Assimilationist Language School

I can feel the influences tugging at me. I'm typing c-o-l-o-r, I'm passing people on the right hand side on the sidewalk (I'm saying "sidewalk" instead of "footpath"), my vowels are going all sharp and spiney, I can feel the old culture drawing me back.

I remember the first transition and the training. Typing c-o-l-o, no, c-0-l-o-U-r, enough times that it became natural. Now I have to do what feels natural and then double back, retrain but also untrain. I'm not sure yet how I feel about this.

Last night I had to call my tax guys in Sydney, and I got a new guy on the phone, sounded young, a lovely broad accent, maybe even from New Zealand. I explained that I was calling from the US so that he would understand about the time difference and the complicated nature of my request. But that gave him the impression that I was a space alien calling from the dark side of the moon and had never heard of his land or his people before. He was reading out his address and prounced, "Sydney, New. South. Wales." so carefully that I was surprised he didn't go "That's S,Y, D...."

I used to live there, buddy. I used to move around the city in synch with everyone, I knew how to get on and off trains and ferries, I knew the locations of all the public toilets in town, I shopped at David Jones, I met proprietors of obscure record stores that still specialized in vinyl. I lived, I loved, I lost, I moved around that city like it was my own. And now you "New. South. Wales." me.

I can feel it. The voice is changing back. They won't recognize me there any more, and in fact that's right because I won't sound or move like one of them.

When I first moved to Australia I was desperate to assimilate. I hesitated to open my mouth because it would give me away as not fully belonging. I longed to fully belong.

And I worked hard and I kind of did - I have the passport, I had a whole family of in-laws, I have a footy team. But, but, but. Now I say "call" instead of "ring", I say "living room furniture", I know the names of people who appear regularly on NPR, I listen at lunch to debates about the best quarterbacks of all time rather than the best half-back (Onya, Joey!). This time I don't want to fit back in and be mistaken for a local/native. I am, kind of, a local/native. What will it be like when I go back? Well, Deb said, the expat's return can sometimes be even harder than the move in the first place.