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| Another ten minutes - My England and DR WHO |
| Posted on 21/09/04 at 05:43 by NGONGE |
This evening, after leaving work, I went to Hyde Park Corner station. I was meeting a friend. On my way there, I got a phone call from him telling me that hes running late and that hell be with me in an hours time if I didnt mind waiting for him. I didnt mind. I decided to walk the short distance to Harrods's (the fancy corner shop). On my way there, I was stopped by an old man. He was a smartly dressed old man. He must have been in his early nineties. He was old and frail but very smartly dressed. He was asking me a question. I wasnt listening. I was thinking to myself that this was the first time ever, Ive met an old man out in the street this early in the evening! I see old women walking about all the time but Ive never come across an old man at this time of the day! Theyre as rare as vampires and Im yet to meet a vampire. He smiled at me and repeated his question. I noticed that he had long teeth. I apologised and asked him to repeat the question a third time. He did. I only understood the word please at the end of his question. He saw that I was confused and decided to use sign language. He pointed to his wrist. I looked at his wrist and asked him what was the problem. He gave me a broad smile with those long teeth of his and acted as if he understood my words! He said something. It was a loud mumble. I shook my head from side to side slowly and tried to explain to him, by the use of sign language, that I did not understand a word he said. He took a pen out of his pocket and asked to borrow my newspaper. I gave it to him. He gave me a look asking me if he could write on my newspaper. I nodded assent. I was expecting him to draw me a picture of something. He didnt. He wrote the words do you speak English? . I panicked. How could someone be able to write a language yet not speak it? I told him that I did and asked him if he understood me. He wrote the word Yes . He then wrote Ill try to speak slowly and see if you could understand me . I said ok. He was an old man. A smartly dressed old man. A frail and trembling old man. I hate trembling old men. I usually tremble with them. He took a deep breath. Trembled for a few seconds more and then said DOO U UN-DER-ST-AND ME N-OW?
I slowly aped back the word YES . He spoke quickly again and I lost every word he said. He was unlike any normal person Ive ever met. Ive met people with the sound emanating from their throats when they speak; I met others with the sound coming out of their noses. His voice was coming out of his ears! I asked him the reason he stopped me and asked him to write it down again since I couldnt understand what he was saying. I wondered what region of the UK he originated from.
I remembered my first week in the UK. I had arrived expecting everyone to speak with an accent like the one DR WHO had. I went to Victoria tube station and wanted to purchase a travel card so I can go and see the famous sights of London City. They have these huge machines in tube stations with big buttons giving you the names of all the stations. I didnt want to go to only one station. I wanted a travel card. While I was stood there staring at a machine, a blonde, blue-eyed young man came and stood behind me waiting for his turn. I turned round and asked him if he could help me understand how this complex machine worked. He told me that he was a German tourist and had no idea how anything worked in this country! My great luck, I go to London and the first person I meet turns out to be a German!
I looked around me to see if I could ask anyone else for help. There was no sign of any station attendants. I saw another young man walking past, I shouted to him to stop and asked him if he could help me. He spoke in some strange language and walked off. I later got to know that strange language to be English, delivered with a southern Ireland accent. I stopped another passer-by. He too spoke with a strange language. I later discovered that he was speaking with a Glasgow (or was it Aberdeen?) accent. I saw a black man! I almost jumped with excitement. English or no English, this Nubian brother is bound to understand me. I hoped that hed speak with a Sidney Poiter accent. I understand Sidney. I watched all his films. He didnt. He spoke with a Beenie Man accent and I didnt understand a single letter of what he said. I politely asked him if he spoke any English. There must have been some broken glass on the floor or maybe a loose live cable. The man started jumping about and gesticulating wildly. I felt sorry for him and decided to leave him to deal with these inner demons that were tormenting him there and then. I tried to explain to him by copying his movement and motions, that I didnt need him anymore. He seemed to understand, sucked his teeth and walked off. I sucked my teeth back in acknowledgment. I stood around looking at the hundreds of people entering and existing Victoria station. I wondered to myself if the London of the Avengers and DR WHO was a fictional London, just like they were! A couple of weeks after that memorable day, I went to live in Liverpool and was introduced to the Scouse accent. After mastering that accent, I assumed that no English dialect or accent is difficult for my ears to decipher anymore. I was wrong. The frail old man was still standing there trembling away. He spoke to me. I heard him. I understood him too! He told me that he was asking me for the time! He had a DR WHO accent. DR WHO wasnt fictional after all.
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