Friday, May 15, 2015

We Have Acclimatized. I Mean, Acclimatised.

For my last Scottish language post, I said that we had given in, and started speaking more like Scots.  But really, it's not giving in at all.  It's acclimatizing.  Or as they say in the U.K., acclimatising.

I used to teach this in Introduction to Biological Anthropology - what is acclimatization? Acclimatization is adjusting to your environment.  I remember that Rhonda, my mentor, used to use the example of sweating in Arizona.  When you first arrive in Arizona from another part of the U.S. that features more reasonable temperatures, you sweat equally all over your body.  After a a few weeks, your body adjusts and you begin to sweat more efficiently, preferentially cooling your trunk, because, of course, that's where the important stuff for staying alive is located.  You have acclimatized. 

In Scotland, we have acclimatized in several ways.

First, we have changed our language, as previously discussed.  Even Paul, who doesn't really have much of an ear for languages, tending to remain pretty much American-English only, complains that half the time he calls our daughter's sweater a "jumper," in proper English fashion.  And as I read a book about food the other day with the three-year old, she identified the red fruit as a "to-mah-to." No, I said. "To-may-to."

We have also acclimatized to the cold, or more properly the absence of heat.  The cold is still nasty.  Especially the windy, rainly cold, like the entire month of November. Not kidding, the entire month. But, when we were in Edinburgh last July to get our passports renewed, it was HOT. And by HOT I mean 75 degrees.  This weather is described by Scots as "roastin'" and indeed we were roasting. It was clear and sunny ALL DAY, unheard of around here...here is a picture of that day. Look! Short sleeves! And I have my fleece around my waist, it's so hot. Truly, roastin'.

Roasting in Edinburgh, August 2014.

Another acclimatization is to driving - and riding - on the wrong side of the road.  Paul now has a full UK driving license, but in the early days he gave a couple of car dealers near-heart-attacks as he drive down the road, trying to stay to the side instead of (counterintuitively) hugging the center (I mean centre) line of the road.  Riding in the passenger seat, which would be the driver's seat in the US, took some getting used to, too.  For the first month or more, I habitually tried to get into the wrong side of the car.  Once I was in the correct seat, it still felt strange to be in the driver's seat yet have no control over the car.  And going around all the roundabouts made me feel slighly sick every time we took the car anywhere.  But eventually, I acclimatized.

The last acclimatization was to food availability.  When we first arrived, our families and others from the U.S. would ask us if we missed anything from the U.S., food-wise. And at first, we did. Decent bagels. Normal marshmallow. S'mores. But as we were here a little longer, we adjusted to what you could (and could not) get and became concerned with the bigger issues, that were mostly beyond our control.  Like, there are only two kinds of takeout food in Dundee that are any good.  They are: fish and chips, and Indian/Pakistani food. That's it. I feel lucky because I get to travel for work every couple of months, so every time I go to a bigger city, I seek out decent takeout food - Thai! Mediterranean! Sushi! Even (dare I hope for it?) Mexican! Okay, not really. You have to go all the way to London for that! Also, while the grocery store carries a number of products that we want to buy, they seem to mkae a game of organizing them in the most obscure possible way, so we can't find them. And, although we have also aclimatized to this, the Scottish idea of "customer service" bears only a faint resemblence to what you would see in the U.S. The idea of low profile shop assistants does have some benefit - you will never find a salesperson hovering next to you, glibly inquiring, "May I help you?" But, on the other hand, if you truly need help, sometimes it's like a prairie dog colony - you see salespeople all over the place, and then as soon as you open your mouth to ask a question, they're gone. Whoosh.

Two years of acclimatization. And soon we'll be back, and I'll be writing this blog in reverse.  Talking about how no one in America speaks properly or can cope with the cold.  Having the same unease about driving on the wrong side of the car, and actually driving again after two years of not driving. And of course, realizing that although Americans have proper bagels, marshmallows, S'mores, and of course fabulous takeout food (I'm looking at you, Tucson), the grocery stores will seem strange after two years away, and the salespeople uncomfortably clingy, over-helpful, and just plain American.

Time to acclimatize again.