Lost in Translation (Even When Speaking English)

The famous line “two countries separated by a common language” is usually attributed to George Bernard Shaw, and honestly, the man was onto something. When travelling in the US, you’d assume one of the greatest perks is that everyone speaks English. You expect smooth sailing. Reality, however, loves a plot twist.

To be fair, language barriers abroad are expected. I once sat in a French restaurant, confidently dropping my best “l'addition, s'il vous plaît.” The waiter fired back a response at Mach 3 speed, far too fast for my brain to process. Twenty minutes later, as we sat waiting for a bill that was never coming, we finally wandered over to the till. It turned out his rapid-fire French was just telling us to pay at the counter, a fact the cashier kindly explained to us in perfectly clear English.

Then there was the petrol station in Amman, Jordan, where the attendant tried valiantly to explain their credit card policy: yes to Mastercard, absolutely not to Visa. We got there in the end with a lot of hand gestures.  I did think at one point I had filled the rental car with petrol and they only took cash, which I didn't have. 

But nothing prepares you for the sheer panic of miscommunication in a country that theoretically speaks your native tongue.

Enter the word lever. In the US, it’s "LEV-er" (rhyming with ever, never, and clever). Back home in the UK, it’s "lee-vər" (rhyming with beaver). This minor phonetical quirk didn't seem like a life-altering issue, until I was rushing to return a hire car with a flight fast approaching, completely baffled by how to operate an American gas pump.

As my departure time ticked away, the fuel attendant finally lost patience, jumped on the loudspeaker, and started blaring "LIFT THE LEV-ER!" at me. And there I stood, a full-grown adult in a state of mild panic, staring at the pump and genuinely not understanding a single word echoing across the forecourt.

At least when you're in France or Jordan, you expect to be confused. But standing at an American petrol station, being yelled at over a Tannoy about a "LEV-er" while your flight leaves without you? That is a special kind of lost in translation.