The Dunny

I accidentally said "toilet" to some Americans on Thursday. I was explaining to the secretaries that my students were having a break in the middle of our two hour class. One of them repeated, "Oh, you give your students a potty-break?"
And on Tuesday I tried to convince an American planning a trip that she should say les toilettes when in France because it's so much easier to remember than les vé cé or les wat-air. She wasn't sure that she could bring herself to say toilettes (and yet pé cu didn't faze her)!

You see, in America the word "toilet" always refers specifically to the porcelain throne. That means they need other euphemisms (not that "toilet" itself isn't a euphemism, it was originally). Here's a discussion from a professional linguist, based on personal experience:

I heard the following exchange a couple of years ago in the National Gallery (London) between a couple of American tourists and a cruel (and probably bored) security guard:

Tourist: Could you tell us where the restroom is?
Guard: Do you need a rest?
Tourist: Oh no--I mean the bathroom.
Guard: Why? Do you want to have a bath?
Tourists: *gasping for another word*
Guard: I can direct you to the ladies' toilets?

This difference seems to be driven by the fact that America houses have long had toilets in the bathroom, a trend which is far more recent in Australia. So they're not used to the smallest room in the house being called "the toilet" and think of water closets as a continental convention.

I must have been off my guard linguistically this week because when I first got here I was always carefully to say "bathroom" and I think I still do when talking to strangers. I refuse to say "restroom" as that word makes no sense (see joke above). Canadians say "washroom", which is kinda what it is but I can't just start using Canadian words. At least when we're at The Runcible Spoon there's nothing inaccurate about calling it a bathroom.

And, while we're on the subject, one of the things I explain to the American student teachers headed for Australia is dual-flush toilets, and the fact that it's usually a button. This is because the flush is always some sort of lever here and dual-flush toilets are almost non-existent. I say almost because they've just built a new energy-efficient building on campus. Cindy works there and has discovered that they have dual flush toilets there. She particularly likes the fact that it's labelled "number 1" and "number 2"!

Cornbread

Cornbread is an American dish that's not completely crazy but still ain't quite right. It tastes very good; it has a sweet flavour and a texture like a friand (because it's made from corn meal rather than flour. If you made it into a muffin it would go great with afternoon tea.

The problem is that they serve it as a side to the main meal, especially barbecued things. I just can't imagine using anything so sweet to mop up gravy or BBQ sauce. And it's too crumbly for that anyway.

Chez ze Locksmiss

Our car is now slightly less dodgy than before. We took it back to the locksmith and left it with them long enough for a more senior employee to take a look at it. The younger guy had tried twice to no avail but the expert took only a few minutes. We were happy to discover that the door key now also starts the ignition.

Comical Transport Day

Today on my way to class I saw two interesting things:

An asian guy with a longish blond mohawk (but black sides) wearing a pinstripe navy suit, riding a skateboard.

A girl on a Segway wearing a fully enclosed motorcycle helmet.

And there I was on foot!

Preparing Americans for Australia

Today I gave my Australia talk again to a new batch of American student teachers. I told them about Australian schools, wildlife, culture, cuisine and that if they were staying with host families, they should try to learn to use their knives and forks correctly.

None of the questions were particularly stupid this time. Taking me for Emily Post, one girl asked me whether she would have to eat whatever her host family served; I said she should just talk about her likes and dislikes at the start. One mother asked a good question about what sort of meat we eat. I told her to imagine the American diet but replace 1/3 of the beef with lamb. That elicited some mutters from Americans not used to the taste of lamb!

I recommended that they watch Kenny and Summer Heights High to get to understand the Australian sense of humour. I warned that these might be a little harder for Americans as they don't have laugh tracks etc. but that this was good practice for when they'd be subtly mocked by their hosts. It turns out that the organiser who asked me for suggestions actually labelled Kenny as "highly recommended by an Australian national". It's available at Blockbuster Video and one girl said that she watched it for class but thought that it was some sort of low-brow stupidity. Obviously she was taking it the wrong way so I told her to watch it again when she gets back from Australia.

I showed them a promo for Summer Heights High that maybe I shouldn't have. I immediately remembered that there's almost no swearing on American TV and some of the shocking parts reminded me of the "don't ask, don't tell" style of political correctness you often get here. One of the students said that she had asked specifically for an outback school so over lunch I told her to find out a little about teaching aboriginal students and explained some of the things that my grandfather had discovered teaching his aboriginal student teachers.

Sumer is icumen in

When I was walking to campus yesterday I realised that I shouldn't have worn jeans. It got up to 28˙. I changed into shorts as soon as I got home. After dinner last night I put on some thongs and Cindy and I took a walk and bought some "small" (12 oz) ice creams.

Today it's going to get up to 28˙ again, they predict. And there's a bushfire warning, which they call a "red flag".