Scotland: Cultural Differences Part 1

After nearly two years in Scotland, the cultural differences have become normal to us. But as I contemplate the American visitors who are coming to see us in this, our last summer in Scotland, I think about all the things that will seem very foreign to them. I tried to make a list of all the "cultural differences" topics that I talk about when people ask how things are different in America. It's definitely too long for one blog post. So, here is Cultural Differences, Part 1, not necessarily in order of "importance" but in order of how I thought of them, which is generally how I experience them in everday life, too! 

1. Cultural norms are different
This takes lots of forms.  The most obvious examples I've run into concern customer service, tidyness, supermarket layout, and the house/garden distinction.

Customer service, in the UK, is generally minimal. And it's not just me. British people agree with me on this one. This is true for corporations - one of Paul's favorite stories about our move is that when he called to set up Internet service, British Telecom (BT) told him it would take 3 weeks. He said something along the lines of "I'm going to call your competitor! (Sky) and the agent replied, "Go ahead, they use the same technicians we do, so your Internet is still going to take 3 weeks." Customer service in shops and restaurants also tends to be very low-key. Part of this (especially in restaurants) is likley because tipping is uncommon.  A 10% tip would be generous. This may be more Scotland than other parts of the U.K. (Scots do have a reputation for penny-pinching).  On the flip side, however, you can get very personal service because the U.K. is a small place (well, maybe except for London). People know you. So I've received a personal call from a local librarian to tell me that a book I ordered is in. Also a call (probably from that same librarian) to tell me my 5-year-old forgot her kittycat stuffed toy at the library. I've also watched the owner of a small post office/corner store come out from behind the counter and help a woman with mild dementia do her shopping, while 6 or 7 people waited patiently in line while he helped her.
  
The supermarket layout in the U.K. is mystifying.  It totally reminds you that you are not in the U.S. Two particularly puzzling examples are pancake syrup and straws. In the U.S., the syrup would be in the baking aisle, near the pancake mix, and the straws would be in the paper products aisle, near paper cups and napkins. But in the U.K., pancake syrup is in the dessert aisle (because pancakes are generally a dessert/sweet treat) and straws are with the party stuff (because, why would you have a straw if you weren't having a party?) Also, tissues. Again, with the paper products in the U.S., OR you could buy them in a drug store. Makes sense, right - you have a cold, you go to get cold medicine, and tissues. Not so in the U.K. No tissues to be had in the drug store. Drugs, yes. Feminine hygieine products, yes. Hair products, yes. But no tissues. The upside was that during my fruitless search for tissues, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in a while.  She didn't seem to mind my runny nose.

Tisseus finally purchased at the supermarket, Tesco

Which brings me to...cleaning up after yourself, and your dog. I'm not saying that people in the U.K. are untidy. It's just aparently not as much of a cultural norm to pick up after yourself as it is in the U.S.  It starts early - I think Audrey is the only kid in her (first grade)  class who throws things into the trash bin in the schoolyard. It's just not expected.  If you go to a cafe, you leave your teacup and trash on the table. Someone will come clean it up. Audrey's school employs a janitor to pick up ofter the kids. And the local city government employs people to pick up the streets as well. You see them walking up and down the streets, wheeling along a trash bin and picking up everything that's left on the street. Except dog poo. Of which there is more than there should be. In the middle of highly traveled sidewalks. Big poo, small poo, what I have come to call "dog-a-rhea" for obvious reasons. Some people do pick up their dog's poo.  There are small bins for that purpose stuck to posts at regular intervals, and signs or stickers on the bins/posts to remind people that it's actually the law to pick up your dog poo in Scotland, but it doesn't seem to be changing anyone's mind. So watch where you step.
 
Speaking of stepping, you have to watch your step in people's houses, too, although not quite as literally.  In the U.S., if you invite someone to your home, it is likely that you will give them a tour of the house, especially if they have not visited you before. In Scotland this would be unheard of. If someone invites you to their home, you are expected to stay downstairs, probably in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The only possible exceptions are if their only bathroom is upstairs (in which case you are allowed to visit it) and if they have kids (in which case the kids, if they are old enough not to destroy everything in their path, can go upstairs, but you should still ask before going to collect them from upstairs- it is likely that the Scottish person will bring them down rather than let you go up.)  Gardens, on the other hand, are a point of national pride.  You may be asked to visit a friend's garden and tour it, and you should be appropriately complimentary, as they have likely spent a lot of time getting it to its current lovely state.

Pond in my friend Frances' garden

2. Language is different
If you read this blog regularly you will have already read a lot about language, butI'll  just give it a few more words here, because it really is one of the big differences you notice as a foreigner.

First, British English has different words for almost everything.  And there are certain words that can lead to serious embarassment when used incorrectly.  Foremost among these words are pants and pumping.  If you are American, you're probably thinking...Pants. Pumping. Those words aren't very embarassing. One is something you wear when it's chilly outside, to keep your legs warm, and the other has multiple meanings - you can pump gas, or pump your legs on the swing to keep swinging higher and higher, especially if you're seven. But in the U.K., pants are underpants, so if you slip and say "I bought some new pants" people will titter.  This was absolutely the first language change made by the 5-year-old. "Mom, don't say pants! Say trousers!" Pumping in the U.K. means farting. So pumping on the swing takes on a whole new meaning (thank you to my three Scottish readers who are laughing right now).
 
Second, Scotland has accents in abundence.  I have written about this before but it's inescapable on the the ground. Once you start hearing the differences, you can detect Edinburgh (the mildest of the Scottish accents, at least among the educated Edinburgh folk I know. Sounds nearly English, but shhh, don't tell them, they'll be offended). Aberdeen sounds a bit like Scrooge McDuck (again, this is not a compliment, sorry people from Aberdeen).  Glaswegian is distinct from Dundonian, and then there's the Highland accent which is slightly more intelligible than the outlying islands, where the accent and the vocabulary are fairly different from anything you hear "on the mainland."  Plus throw in people who still retain and English accent or an Irish one after living in Scotland for some time. Everyone may have some common "Scots" dialect like saying "wee" for anything small, and (on the east coast) "bairns" for kids (there's a different word for the West coast but since I don't live there, I don't know what it is!)  But back to where I began this post; I just asked Paul to describe the Glaswegian accent, and he said "I don't know - whe we first got here I could hear it, but now I don't anymore." It's just normal.

This poster, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, is probably one of the most common memes in Britain, When I Googled Scottish Accents to look for a good image, I got "Keep Calm and Love Scottish Accents" and "Keep Calm and Fake a Scottish Accent"

 

A Collection of Memos from my Phone

I started to write this blog on why Scotland is totally underrated as a tourist destination by Americans.  But half an hour in, it was starting to look more like a thesis than a blog post. So, moving on.

Sometimes when I am walking home from work, I think of something I want to blog about. So I stop and whip out my super-wimpy smartphone (it doesn't even merit a capital S) and click on the Memos icon.  I am still a fairly rudimentary texter, so my Memos are often mis-spelled, but my hope is that when I look at them later I'll be able to figure out, as the Brits say, "what I was on about." So here goes.

Memo 1: Blog on best toys.

Tad and that $3 cape I bought at Savers. Seriously, Tad, of Leapfrog fame, has got to be our most long-lasting toy.  My aunt gave him to us when Audrey was 18 months old. We started using him as her "going to sleep" music (he plays 10 minutes of night-time music if you sqeeze his hand twice) then, and he's still going. With only about 3 battery changes...we play him every night. He even goes on vacation with us. Audrey is now nearly 7. And the $3 cape. I bought it on a whim at Savers, the thrift department store in Rhode Island, when Audrey was about 4.  It's shiny green on one side and black on the reverse. It has been a princess cape, a fairy cape, and is currently serving as Hermione's cape from Harry Potter, complete with the Hogwarts "coat of arms" badge that I bought in London sewn on.   

Memo 2: Flying thru Amsterdam

My attempt to capture our flying trip through Amsterdam.  It was supposed to be an afternoon, maybe getting to see the Van Gogh museum. But thanks to airline delays, we got into the city in time to check into the hotel and seek out dinner. It was a cool city. We saw a stand with about 8 varieties of what Rhode Islanders would call "fried dough"  - mostly apple-based. There was a skating rink, but it was quite melted in places. Even in the north, the weather was too mild for an outdoor rink.  We also saw a big sculpture/place to take selfies written "I Am sterdam" - the letters were probably 8 feet tall but people were climbing all over them for pictures.  We ended up in a hotel on the 3rd (well, they call it the 3rd but counting the flights of stairs you would call it the 4th) floor having to open out windows to the December air because the heating was on full blast and we couldn't adjust it. 

Skating Rink/Swimming Pool

Selfies galore

Apple/Dough stand at the airport

Memo 3: Could you possibly...

A note to myself about the possibility of a blog about polite British ultimatums.  Stemming from my boss telling me that when she says, "Could you possibly..." to her teenage children, they jump up and do whatever she's asked, because that phrase is eqivalent to her saying, in American terms, "F-ing do it, or else!"

Memo 4: What the...

Notes about a possible blog (or blogs) about how the UK did not recognize us as having a life or history beyond its borders, and the parallels with a workshop I took on creating a fake identity (in the name of research, of course!).  In reality, all the steps the workshop runner explained for creating a fake identity were things I had done in the previous 6 months to establish myself as a legitimate person in Scotland.  The only difference was I had a letter from the University stating I was employed by them, which made me "legit" instead of "fake."

This memo was also about being culturally lost in the grocery store, and being intially unable in Dundee to find a store that sold tissues (hint, not the pharmacy) or basic office supplies (hint, the post office). But that while I was on my tissue hunt I ran into both my choir director and my boss. Typical small-town Dundee. 

Memo 5: More Amsterdam.

This memo was about how impressed I was in Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport to find that someone had designed a seating area with a built-in slide. Adults rest, kids climb the stairs and slide down over and over and over...brilliant!  Also in the same airport, I spotted a store called "Philosophy" - they really sell everything in airports nowadays. I almost bought slippers in the shape of wooden shoes. But I resisted. And for some reason I also remembered in this memo that it was snowing lightly when we visited L'Academia in Florence.  

Hope you have enjoyed this trip down Memo-y lane.

We Have Acclimatized. I Mean, Acclimatised.

For my last Scottish language post, I said that we had given in, and started speaking more like Scots.  But really, it's not giving in at all.  It's acclimatizing.  Or as they say in the U.K., acclimatising.

I used to teach this in Introduction to Biological Anthropology - what is acclimatization? Acclimatization is adjusting to your environment.  I remember that Rhonda, my mentor, used to use the example of sweating in Arizona.  When you first arrive in Arizona from another part of the U.S. that features more reasonable temperatures, you sweat equally all over your body.  After a a few weeks, your body adjusts and you begin to sweat more efficiently, preferentially cooling your trunk, because, of course, that's where the important stuff for staying alive is located.  You have acclimatized. 

In Scotland, we have acclimatized in several ways.

First, we have changed our language, as previously discussed.  Even Paul, who doesn't really have much of an ear for languages, tending to remain pretty much American-English only, complains that half the time he calls our daughter's sweater a "jumper," in proper English fashion.  And as I read a book about food the other day with the three-year old, she identified the red fruit as a "to-mah-to." No, I said. "To-may-to."

We have also acclimatized to the cold, or more properly the absence of heat.  The cold is still nasty.  Especially the windy, rainly cold, like the entire month of November. Not kidding, the entire month. But, when we were in Edinburgh last July to get our passports renewed, it was HOT. And by HOT I mean 75 degrees.  This weather is described by Scots as "roastin'" and indeed we were roasting. It was clear and sunny ALL DAY, unheard of around here...here is a picture of that day. Look! Short sleeves! And I have my fleece around my waist, it's so hot. Truly, roastin'.

Roasting in Edinburgh, August 2014.

Another acclimatization is to driving - and riding - on the wrong side of the road.  Paul now has a full UK driving license, but in the early days he gave a couple of car dealers near-heart-attacks as he drive down the road, trying to stay to the side instead of (counterintuitively) hugging the center (I mean centre) line of the road.  Riding in the passenger seat, which would be the driver's seat in the US, took some getting used to, too.  For the first month or more, I habitually tried to get into the wrong side of the car.  Once I was in the correct seat, it still felt strange to be in the driver's seat yet have no control over the car.  And going around all the roundabouts made me feel slighly sick every time we took the car anywhere.  But eventually, I acclimatized.

The last acclimatization was to food availability.  When we first arrived, our families and others from the U.S. would ask us if we missed anything from the U.S., food-wise. And at first, we did. Decent bagels. Normal marshmallow. S'mores. But as we were here a little longer, we adjusted to what you could (and could not) get and became concerned with the bigger issues, that were mostly beyond our control.  Like, there are only two kinds of takeout food in Dundee that are any good.  They are: fish and chips, and Indian/Pakistani food. That's it. I feel lucky because I get to travel for work every couple of months, so every time I go to a bigger city, I seek out decent takeout food - Thai! Mediterranean! Sushi! Even (dare I hope for it?) Mexican! Okay, not really. You have to go all the way to London for that! Also, while the grocery store carries a number of products that we want to buy, they seem to mkae a game of organizing them in the most obscure possible way, so we can't find them. And, although we have also aclimatized to this, the Scottish idea of "customer service" bears only a faint resemblence to what you would see in the U.S. The idea of low profile shop assistants does have some benefit - you will never find a salesperson hovering next to you, glibly inquiring, "May I help you?" But, on the other hand, if you truly need help, sometimes it's like a prairie dog colony - you see salespeople all over the place, and then as soon as you open your mouth to ask a question, they're gone. Whoosh.

Two years of acclimatization. And soon we'll be back, and I'll be writing this blog in reverse.  Talking about how no one in America speaks properly or can cope with the cold.  Having the same unease about driving on the wrong side of the car, and actually driving again after two years of not driving. And of course, realizing that although Americans have proper bagels, marshmallows, S'mores, and of course fabulous takeout food (I'm looking at you, Tucson), the grocery stores will seem strange after two years away, and the salespeople uncomfortably clingy, over-helpful, and just plain American.

Time to acclimatize again.   

Speaking the language

I've given in...

1) You stop using z's (realise, organise) and start adding u's (colour, favour)

2) You start thinking (about your visiting American guests),  "I wonder if they'd fancy a boat trip on the Firth of Forth?"when previously you had thought it sounded hilarious when new Scottish friends asked if you "fancied" something.

3) You can understand that when someone says "I ken twa wee bairns," they mean they know two small children. 

4) You call it America instead of the United States because that's what everyone (including your 3 year old) calls it here [as in "Mummy, when we go back to America, can Audrey and I get bunk beds?"]

5) You visit London, and you miss the way Dundonians greet you in the shops with a cheerful "Hiya."

6) You realise you can now almost sing a verse or two of Muggie Sha' (see the women's singing group I am part of singing it here).

7) You get your kids to sing "Wind the Bobbin Up" when you're brushing their hair.(although all the Youtube versions of this seem to be sung by Americans, I had never heard it until Library Rhyme Time here)

8) You start putting two syllables in girls (gah-uhrls) and world (wah-ruhld).

9) You pronounce Menzieshill "Mean-es-hill," Kirkcaldy "Kir-coddy," and Glamis "Glams."

10) You respond to good ideas with, "Brilliant!"

11) You start thinking "You Canna Shove Your Granny Off The Bus" is sort of catchy (although not very good for your dad's mom, because you find out later in the song that you Can shove her off the bus!) 

12) You say "cheers" back when people say it to you.

So, cheers to you all, seek out the bonny (beautiful) , and avoid the mingen (gross).  Oh,  and when you're singing that song about Loch Lomond, make sure you "tak" the high road or the low road, don't "take" it.

The 17+ months update

Wow, I haven't posted in a while. I don't know what happened to October, but November got away from me because of job applications. The first weekend of November Paul went up to Carefree, Arizona (Phoenix-ish) for an art show. Since it was only about a 2 hour drive, Audrey and I went up to support him, and to see what doing an art show with a toddler would really be like. We thought she might be bored, but she really loved it - lots of people to charm, and she thought the whole show area was a big game of "chase Audrey." She would walk away from Paul's booth, then turn around and smile to see if one of us was following her, and then she's scoot a few more feet away, merrily walking in front of show visitors and their babies and dogs. Though I didn't get any pictures of her at the show, I did take this one of her eating breakfast at the pancake house one morning before we went out to sell some art.

After we returned from the show, I was buried in job applications and presentation preparation for a few weeks, and then we headed to Virginia on Nov 25 for Thanksgiving and, for me, a trip up to Philadelphia for the AAA meeting the next week. Audrey has been enjoying hanging out with Nana and Poppa (and she can now say both of those names) running them ragged by being in constant motion and making most of her desires known with her still somewhat limited vocabulary. Although many of her words sound alike (dog and duck both sound kind of like "doh") she often uses a sign to distinguish which word she means. She also has some words that she exclusively says (like "plane," that we don't know the sign for) and others she exclusively signs (like "cereal," apple" and "signing"). Though she's enjoyed being the center of attention as the only grandchild on this side, she also had fun playing with her cousin Owen, about 8 months older,one day after Thanksgiving, and all the Guilford Avenue roommate's kids a couple of days later (she is the youngest of a 6-kid group, the oldest being 5 1/2 and the closest to her age being 3 months older).

One of the funniest moments of this trip to my parents' house was that they bought her a little kid cell phone that makes noise when you press the buttons, and also, if you close the phone, it waits about 5 seconds and then rings. Audrey was attempting to wave bye-bye and leave the room (one of her favorite things to do, followed by a re-appearance a few seconds later) but every time she closed the phone and said bye bye to us, the phone would ring. The first couple of times, she answered it, but after about four times, with all of us laughing as she got more and more put out, she handed the open phone to Paul and then successfully left the room.

The Tao of Bei: Linguistic Development a la Audrey

Anal PhD mom that I am, I was recently making a list of all the signs and words Audrey now uses at 14 months (at least 6 signs and 8 words, in case you were wondering) and I started thinking about one of her favorite multi-meaning words, namely "Bei" (or maybe "bay"). This is a word Audrey uses, with slightly different inflections and associated hand signals, to mean "belly button", "baby", "bird", "cat" and "dog."

If it means belly button or baby, she points at the item in question (typically real babies but sometimes her baby doll). If it means bird, she makes a hand signal that looks a little like the sign for "bird." For cat, she uses a sign that looks a bit like "cat." For dog (which can be prompted by real dogs or our neighbor's dogs barking) she doesn't use the American Sign Language sign for dog, but instead a hand motion that looks a little like summoning a dog.

She is also experimenting with stringing words together. Her longest phrase so far has been 4 words ("No, mom, no, mine!" when I closed the refrigerator door before she was finished positioning her water bottle appropriately inside) and she's also signed a two-word phrase ("more signing" when I turned off the Signing Time DVD)

Memorandum of Understanding

I am amazed at what Audrey understands. She is 13 months and one week old and I talk to her a lot, but still. Just today she was able to come down ten stairs at my friend Jenne's house by herself because I reminded her to sit down and then put her feet down on the lower step. No physical guidance, just talking her through it. And tonight she spit out some cheese on the floor, then continued on with her activities. I said "Where's your cheese? Can you give it to me?" and she stopped doing what she was doing, went over and picked up the cheese and handed it to me. Also today, she was heading toward the above-mentioned stairs for the tenth time, and I was able to distract her by asking her to pick up a toy and bring it to me. Which she did, and by then she had forgotten that she was going to try to go up the stairs.

On a related note, if asked, she can point out her belly, her nose, and sometimes her toes. I don't know when kids are supposed to know these things, but I like to think she's advanced for her age. She also uses the word "lights" (this is probably her fourth consistently-used word after mama, dad, and ah-da (Audrey)) and also has a word that sounds suspiciously like "mine!" when something is taken away from her.

Sometimes I ask her to do something or find something, and I can tell I've used too many dependent clauses (or something) because she sort of stops and looks at me blankly. But most of the time she understands. Amazing!