Dialect

Blogging is rubbish isn't it? Like a one-armed man trying to attach a tarpaulin in a Force-9 gale. "Attach it to where?" you cry. "Who cares?" I reply. It was a poor analogy in the first place...



Due to technical difficulties caused in part by my inability to operate a keyboard, nothing has been said on this page which gives you any idea of the daily horrors I face daily, sometimes as often as every day. Incredible. Let's remedy this immediately with a run-down of some of the interesting discoveries I have made during my (failed) attempts to make myself understood in this bloody god-forsaken shithole.



1. Who is Ken?

This took months to get to grips with. Every single sentence uttered in my presence since the moment I arrived has ended with the immortal words: "D'ye Ken?" Obviously, being a pompous English pedant with an inferiority complex, I would assume this was my fault for not having enunciated clearly on introducing myself. I would therefore smile, wait for my conversing partner to pause for breath, and then interject, gently "It's Alison, actually."

This had no effect other than convincing whomever I was speaking to that I was a certifiable meglomaniac with no social graces, so I would repeat it until, embarrassed and starting to sweat slightly my latest, newest friend would start to back away, muttering other unintelligibles, sometimes into moving traffic, and out of my life forever.

To cut a long story short, I eventually discovered (by consulting a dictionary, of all things! I know, it's extraordinary what lengths I'll go to) that "ken" means "know". So an average sentence might go something like: "Och, I cannae stannit when the wains are greeting, d'ye ken?", which now makes perfect sense.



2. Greeting

Of course, to any right-minded person the above sentence makes no sense whatsoever. This is because it contains several words whose meaning is entirely distorted by the inability of Scottish people to speak English properly. They like to call this a "dialect", but surely the the idea of a dialect is to substitute entirely new words which have a local meaning: lug for ear, cotters for tangles, lop for flea, and so on. (Pompous bitch)
The dialect where I live takes English words which already have a perfectly clear meaning and pretends they mean something else altogether. "Greeting" then means "crying". It is therefore impossible, I presume, to post a Christmas card saying: "Season's Greetings" unless you want to send someone you don't like sincere hopes for a miserable, tear-soaked Christmas. Which is what I am in fact doing this year.
Of course, I am probably incorrectly assuming that the word "season" has not also been tampered with, and will instead be giving people the impression that I am offering espadrilles in an assortment of colours at the amazing price of only £21.95 plus p&p.

3. Wains

This is not spelled correctly I'm certain. I don't mind this one so much, as it obviously originally had something to do with "weaning" and so you can work out that it in fact means "kids".
Unless of course it doesn't, but I can't be expected to know everything. Look it up yourselves for Christ's sake!

4. Playpiece

My five-year old daughter has just started school and takes a book bag with her which is full of the obvious things: pencil case, homework, bomb-making equipment, etc.
One day she came home and said: "Mam, can I take a playpiece tomorrow?" In fact - this is the conversation as my official note-taker remembers it:
"Mam, can I take a playpiece tomorrow?"

" A what?"

"A playpiece"

"A what?"

"Playpiece"

"What?"

Three minutes passed, featuring the same sort of snappy dialogue.

"A PLAYPIECE!"

"A what?"

I could feel myself ageing so decided to take matters in hand.
"What exactly is a playpiece?" I asked, concisely.

"For playtime," she replied.

"Do you play with it?"

"No."

"But you use it at playtime?"

"Yes, you bring it in your bag."

"But what is it exactly?"

"It can be anything - the mummies decide."

What the hell was she talking about? I opted for a more direct line of questioning.

"So what did Ollie bring yesterday?"

"Crisps."

Ah, yes. Of course. It's obvious. A playpiece is a snack. That you eat at playtime. "Playpiece" is a perfectly logical name for it. FREAKS!

5. Skin complaints

How would you respond to this statement?

"Ach, I saw two wee laddies with terrible eck-zeema all aver their wee faeces."

My instinct was to throw a custard pie and run away, but, not having one with me, I had to stand still and pray that I wasn't expected to reply. I think I may have tutted, believing the old lady speaking was describing some gross act of vandalism, and that seemed to satisfy her. This meant I was able to walk home without feeling as though she was trying to memorise my face in case she saw me on Crimewatch. Usually I'm not so lucky.

This is why I have no Scottish friends.