A Lighter View
Spotting foreigners among us
By K.E.H. Stagg

Aug. 13, 2009

When I moved to Dillsburg somewhat less than a century ago, I had no idea how difficult it would prove for me to pass as a native. As I quickly discovered, my accent gives me away every time; if it weren’t my short Midwestern vowels, it would be my vocabulary.

Until I moved to the greater Dillsburg metropolitan area, I never knew that the word “you” could be made plural simply by adding an “s” on the end, as in, “Yous guys are getting on my last nerve!” Nor did I know that a possessive form of “yous” could be created simply by adding an “n” as in, “Is that rust bucket in the front yard you’ns?”

We immigrants have to wander through the minefield of speech patterns and peculiarities, hoping to avoid an explosion that blows us out of the water. We can get tripped up by words that mean the exact opposite of what we think. For example, “a while” actually means “right now.” This is most commonly heard in casual dining establishments where the wait staff will ask, “Can I take your order a while?”

The word “all” is another such opposite. If someone tells me, “The chocolate chip ice cream is all,” that means I’ll be snacking on rice cakes instead. My guess is that the expression was originally “all gone” and the last word was dropped for convenience’s sake (similar to what I’ve seen with the double letters in words like “worshiping” and “employe”).

I still find myself alternately confused and amused by native Dillsburgers who ask a question by making a statement, but let their voice rise at the next-to-last syllable. This colloquialism is impossible to accurately portray in print, but imagine the rising inflection in: “You’re asking a ques-tion.” The query anywhere else in the Lower 48 would be, “You’re asking a ques-tion?”

In some cases, entirely different words have been substituted in common usage. In the state of Ohio, “soda” is a powder substance used in baking, or a fizzy water that tastes like ick. But around here, soda is the generic name for carbonated soft drinks that we knew as “pop” where I grew up. Over time and with careful study, I have trained myself to recognize “pop” indicating a noise or a male parent/grandparent rather than a beverage.

Geographical names provide still more potential pitfalls for those of us born outside the Commonwealth. Take the town of Gettysburg as an example. Those of us from far-away parts pronounce the second syllable as a long “ee” (get-ees-burg), while locals make it a short “i” (get-iss-burg). The city with discount outlet malls to our east is lan-cass-ter to outsiders, but lang-cuss-ter to insiders.

The fact of the matter is eventually we immigrants will so alter the common vernacular in Dillsburg that it will be impossible to tell who was born here and who is a naturalized citizen. But it’s not going to happen any time this week!