Mainglish

I have long been fascinated by how people communicate. I imagine that had my life worked out slightly differently, I would have studied linguistics and could speak five languages by now. Instead, English is the only one I really know, and at times I wonder if I really should even make that claim.

When I first arrived here, I noticed the surrounding nature and culture. I would at times get so giddy I would make squeaky noises and dance at the thought of being so close to beaches to ocean gaze, mountains to hike, new food to try, and a foreign country to visit even. Not that Canada is really all that exciting, but just in case I get really bored, it’s an option. The thought never occurred to me that I would have difficulty communicating with people.

It’s not a problem with dialect and if anything, I am the one with an accent. People here sound like the characters you might find on television. They sound like Americans. I’m the oddball for saying yer instead of your. I like to ask people, “What’s yer phone number?” I get lots of looks. I concluded early on that my issue with communicating with the locals was not one of pronunciation. I can understand every word that a Mainer speaks to me; I just don’t understand what they are talking about.

When I can ask someone a simple question like: “What methods of payment do you accept?” or “Do you have any LED lights?” or “What paperwork do I need to bring with me when I get my driver’s license?” I get a response, they use words, they are English words, but all I can do is tilt my head and give a look of confusion. Often, I ask for things in writing, “Do you have a handout explaining that?” Even then, I usually walk out of an office with three more handouts than I need because it wasn’t until they gave me the fourth one that I had my question answered.

Even when my boyfriend and I both are present, it still does no good. We come back home and compare what we heard and still have no idea what was said to us. We’ve even tried negotiation by word order. For example, at the hospital billing window, we tried a line of questioning like: “What amount do I owe you?” “Do I need to pay anything now?” “Would you like for me to pay now?” “What amount would you like for me to pay you?” “Do I owe you any money today?” “Can we get a bill?” “Do you have my mailing address?” “When will you bill me?” The reply to all of the answers was something like this: “You can pay today, if you want, we ask for fifty percent down, but you don’t have to. We will bill you, after the insurance, it looks like they’ll pay more than fifty percent, you can wait, until after they pay, but we would like it if you pay, the fifty percent of course, today, at the hospital, you don’t have to….” After a while, when she took a breath, each time we asked what that amount would be, an estimate even, if we did pay, what amount would I pay here and she cycled right back to “Well, you can pay today, but….” We stood there for quite awhile. Even if my life depended on it, I would not know what to make the check out to, what amount to write or to which person to give it to, not even which department nor did I leave there with an account number to reference if I needed to call back and ask about something. After a couple of weeks I got a letter in the mail with an account number, my name and date that they saw me and a note saying they were going to bill my insurance company at some point in the next thirty to forty-five days. Again, no dollar amount. I still have no idea what that visit cost.

At times I feel I need a notepad and just write things like: Me want this book (draw arrow to left hand holding book) Me pay you. (Hand person a 20 dollar bill) Give me change. I want receipt. Of course, even if I did that they would probably still be confused. I’d get a receipt that would be for a Mocha Frappachino and all of my change in quarters. I have never felt a bigger urge in all of my life to just simply order everything I need online and have it mailed to my house just so I don’t have to deal with people. Sadly, here in Maine I have to pay sales tax and if I drive a couple miles into New Hampshire then I don’t. Unless I get really rich, I’m going to have to keep talking to these people.

For the time being I talk to people using phrasing found in most early twentieth century writing like in the Narnia Chronicles. It seems to have worked. Now people return my phone calls and I have job interviews. I had one today and it went really well. I guess I need to talk like I’m trapped in a novel. I wonder if that’s why people call this place vacationland and say it’s the way life should be. Should we all be trapped in books? I guess so according to New Englanders.