Adventures of Jill and Lisa, Part Five

Can you say "yous"?

At this point in the saga, do you wonder what possessed two obviously brain-damaged women to travel to a foreign country and try to act “normal”?

I’m glad you asked.

We discovered a program in which native English speakers sit with native Spanish speakers for one week and converse in English. Talk and walk and chat and laugh and hang out and drink and drink and eat. Did I mention drink?

For seven days we were hidden in the hills of Spain (Soria to be precise) and lodged at a renovated village, originally built in the 1500s. We thought this would be a fabulous and unique vacation.

The day after we figured out how to turn on the lights, we met our group for a three-hour bus tour (not kidding) to our new mountain view home. Our checkout from the Hotel Atlantico was the same as our check in, but in reverse.

We flagged a cab to the meeting place with relatively no problems. We admired the architecture of Madrid and observed the lay-person rushing to his/her destination. After the standard pleasantries we boarded the bus and I fell asleep. I wish I could say it was from jetlag but somewhere along the way I caught a cold. Therefore, I took advantage of the “free time” to try and sleep off the stuffy nose.

We arrived to Valdelavilla (Englishtown) and dragged our luggage along cobblestone steps. I thought the cement paths at the airport were hard on our wheeled luggage, I had no idea what cobblestones could do.

After a wonderful lunch, we were escorted to the main desk to check in.

“Passports please.” A dark haired woman requested from behind the main desk.

She looked at my passport and then looked at Jill’s and started rambling in Spanish.

The only words I caught were “one bed” and “married.”

“One minute please,” she said in her best English.

Moments passed and after hearing the same words over and over again, I finally stepped in.

“We’re not married.” I pointed to Jill and myself. “I like her, but not that much.”

Everyone laughed, a bit nervously.

“Sometimes we cannot tell from the names the person’s gender,” she explained.

“I bet Jill isn’t a common name in Spain,” Jill whispered to me.

The woman looked up. “Oh no. We have plenty of Yills. We don’t have Lisa’s.”

I must admit, I was surprised. I grew up in a primarily African American and Spanish neighborhood. I knew at least four Lisa’s all of Spanish origins. I assumed that Lisa was a common name in Spanish speaking countries. Guess not.

After assigning us a new room with separate beds, we put our clothes away and freshened up for the introductory meeting with – Mr. Englishtown.

Yes, there is a Mr. Englishtown. He is the founder, the creator … in two words – The Man.

But The Man had some preconceived ideas about how English speakers talk.

He introduced himself to the room full of English speakers (from Canada, Australia and the US) and Spanish speakers, then asked each of us for introductions. After demonstrating the importance of enunciation “If I say, how is your dog, then you understand me. But if I say howsyurdawg then you may not,” he pulled some common slang from Australia (goodday), Canada (eh) and various ones from the US. OH yes, he tried to address the Philadelphian’s speech pattern.

“Lisa, what is it that all Philadelphians say?” he asked.

“I dunno. Dawg and caat?”

He smiled. “No. Don’t you people say “yous”?”

“Only if you’re watching a Rocky movie,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Uh sure …”

“See every area has a bastardization of the basic English language,” The Man declared.

Let’s be honest folks. The only time I have ever heard “yous” is either while watching Rocky or if I hang out on the docks. And I DON’T hang out on the docks.

Next was Jill’s introduction.

“Do you hear the silkiness of her voice? Spaniards. Listen.” He leaned closer to Jill. Of course the rest of the room followed suit, while Jill quickly turned the color of a rutabaga.

“Uh. What do you want me to say?”

“Spaniards. This is the woman you want to talk to, if you want to learn how to speak a smooootthhh, silky English.”

Jill and I looked at each other –Who is this guy and what’s with the silky stuff? Note: Jill is a professional voice over artist. This said, Mr. Englishtown was creepy.

After ensuring that Jill would be embarrassed even if she asked for a glass of agua, we finished our introductions and exited to our first set of meetings.

Come back next time for special guest blogging from Yill and discover some of the more colorful aspects of our trip to Englishtown.