It is funny to me how subtle differences in language can really make a big difference. Cyprus is, for all intents and purposes, an English speaking country. When our garbagemen came around for their holiday tip, they spoke English. Rarely will I find a store clerk or any other person who doesn’t speak English, and even then, most of them do speak and understand English they just aren’t fully comfortable with it.
The other day, I walked up to the meat counter and asked for ground beef. This is a task I usually assign to Severin while I bag produce, but last week I had mercy on him and made the grocery run by myself. The butcher looked at me like I was speaking in tongues, so I made a grinding gesture (????) and said ground beef. He was still confused, so I just kept gesticulating wildly and saying ground beef. Finally, he put two and two together (thank god one of us did!) and said, “OH! You mean MINCED beef.” Yes! That!
Interestingly enough, one of the hardest places to adjust to these subtle differences are at the barn. For example;
“Yard” = the whole barn
“Stable” = what we would call a stall, while we would say stables as the whole building or area
“Wash Area” = cross-tie
“Head Collar” = halter
“Numnah” = Saddle Pad. I thought this word must have been Greek for the longest time, but it turns out it’s British English.
“Plaits” = Pronounced “Platz,” meaning braids. Plaiting, pronounced “platting,” is the verb.
“Hack” = in the United States (at least in Southern California in the late 90s/early 00s, maybe they’ve Europeanized their vernacular by now), hacking means to walk, trot, and canter a horse. Here, it means to take your horse on a trail ride.
“Lorry” = Truck/Trailer
The coaching is somewhat confusing as well, though I’m not sure if that’s a product of both of the instructors speaking English as a second language. For instance, if you’re told “Don’t close!” before a fence, that means don’t half halt/slow down, and don’t open means don’t go forward. I was raised with “Close your leg!” which is functionally the opposite of what is meant by “Don’t Close!” That can be very confusing when you are barreling toward a jump and only have a stride or maybe two to make an adjustment.
There are a few other words, that come to mind, such as “petrol” instead of “gas,” “till” instead of “cash register,” and “sunbeds.” I recently learned “jiggery pokery,” (from Brits, not Cypriots), which basically means to work a little magic– i.e., something or someone screwed up the schedule for your event, and you have to use a little jiggery pokery to make all the pieces still fit and keep the event on track.