Or TCSGTTEUS (Looks like Betelgeuse’s red-headed step-child’s name, doesn’t it?)
This summer, I took two major trips. The first was to Minneapolis where our family rented a car (okay, a 12 passenger, gas-guzzling van the likes of which we haven’t driven in five years!). So we all piled in said van and tootled on down the road through Iowa (drove the kids around Ames to see where their father went to college–GO CYCLONES), all the way to the bottom of Missouri. Then we made the reverse trip and flew home again after a lovely wedding in Minnesota.
Two weeks later, I hopped a plane for North Carolina and a writer’s retreat. This trip was highly educational, so I decided to share my lessons with other Californians (and I think it is probably beneficial information for most of the western US. Just sayin’).
Let’s start with Pronunciation.
Lesson 1: For those of us on the west coast, we’re accustomed to thinking of those in the south as having “accents.” These I was prepared for. After all, I was born in Oklahoma and I’ve lived in Missouri and Texas. Accents are no stranger to me. I’d forgotten, however, that with accents often come interesting pronunciation issues. For example, in Texas, they do not wash. Apparently it’s just dirtier there or something, because it takes an extra letter in the word wash, turning it into warsh, to get the job done. I once heard it posited that that extra R came from all the Bostonian words ending in R. They just sort of swirled around in the sky, got caught in a gust of wind, and funneled into a tornado which deposited them in the word “warsh.” While this is an interesting theory, I have a different one. I think they just hop the MTA and zip on over to “Brender’s” house. Ahem.
I digress. I was talking about pronunciation in the southeast, not the northeast/southwest. Let’s get back on track here. So, North Carolina is literally dripping in towns ending in –v-i-l-l-e. You have the town I first flew into—Charlotte (which isn’t a “ville,” but I’m just aching to call Charlottesville now). The town I stayed in—Asheville. The town near where I stayed. Hendersonville. The town near where the retreat was—Boondocksville—I mean Bakersville. Trust me, there are many more “Villes.” You’ve got villes coming out your ears. It’s like they’re fish gills that give life to the place or something.
Anyway, I mentioned to one of the women at the retreat, quite innocently, that I had flown into “Asheville by way of Charlotte.” And this is where things got interesting. Or is that “interestin’?”
The woman immediately teased me saying, “Oh, anyone would know you’re not from there.”
To which I replied, “How? Would it be my lack of a southern accent. I can pull one of those off. Not a problem.”
No, no. no. Apparently people in the Carolinas and the Virginias “swallow” the –ville when they speak it. It’s not ASH-ville. It’s AsheVOLL… but that voll gets choked back a bit as if hearing of their “hometown” brings out all kinds of deep-seated emotions.
And apparently there’s a place in WV (okay, so there really is because I went there! WOOT! Go… um, what were they again? Oh, MOUNTAINEERS! Shh… don’t tell my husband). Where was I? Oh, yes. There’s a place called Monangalia county. Not Monongahela like the river (sorry Oak Ridge Boys)—Monangalia . Apparently some people who live there can’t even pronounce it themselves—they just call it Mon county. So all those names we can’t pronounce? They can’t either. Thought you oughtta know. It’s probably payback for them coming to California and visiting La Jolla and not being able to find it on the map because they’re looking for La Hoy-ya! Yeah. Kind of like when my mother-in-law arrived one day and said she loved her meal at the restaurant, but they put way too many “jal-LAP-eh-noes” in it.” Ahem Mon county. AsheVOLL. Got it.
Next time: I’m going to give away a Southern and Midwestern secret that will ensure a mass exodus from the west to the central and eastern portions of our lovely country. A hint? They don’t have germs!
Monongalia, (not Monanglia) and we start little with the kids. Any time we read one of those words the conversation goes…
“does that sign say Monongalia?”
“Yes, Monongalia county. Not to be mistaken with Monongahela River. Two different things. Can you say both of them?”
and then we practice. LOL My two year old says “nonongalia already.”
Let’s GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Mountaineers!
Take this for what it’s worth since I’m a transplant, but I hear Ashe-VULL rather than VOLL. But you’re so right about the swallowing part.
Right… It actually sounded like a combination of vull and voll to me (that southern accent thing) so I just went with voll instead of vull. Either works.
Loved this post, Mrs. Havig! Made me laugh today! 🙂
Dialect Survey Maps
http://spark.rstudio.com/jkatz/SurveyMaps/
Have fun everyone!
And then there are people who think I live in the state of Or-a-gone instead of Or-y-gun!
I’m from Portsmouth (Port’smith), Virginia. Right across the Elizabeth River from Norfolk (Naw’ fulk-without pronouncing the “L”), but when you say it with a southern drawl and accent the first syllable, it’s not too bad. Suffolk is pronounced the same way, and my kids say it’s the only time they can say a bad word!
That is like when I lived in Canada and the waiter asked me if I wanted to try their special – Fa Gee tas. (fajitas) I said, no, If you can’t say it, I don’t think I want to tryt it.
I like my germs. I think I’ll stay here in Wyoming! 🙂
I live in MOCKSvull about an hour from Ashville. Sometimes I still have a problem understanding people. And I’ve lived here 7 years.
If you had traveled a little farther north from Bakersville, you would have come to Watauga County. Most furiners (people who live OFF the mountain) would pronounce it just like it is spelled: Wa-TAW-ga. However, the locals say Wa-DAW-ga with a very heavy emphasis on the second syllable.
In Watauga County, just west of the county seat of Boone (home of the Appalachian State University Mountaineers) is an area called Vilas (not much of a town anymore; more like a wide spot in the road). Someone from California or anyone with any knowledge of Spanish would probably try to pronounce it Vee-yas and people from the rest of the deep south would pronounce it will a short i sound: Vil-?s, but the locals pronounce it with a long i: Vai-lis.
The most confusing thing for me when I first moved there to work just after college was the phrase: Don’t leave us now. Being young and to show respect, I would sit back down and resume the conversation even though I needed to go. Sometimes this would happen several times in a conversation. I finally figured out that that was a way to say Goodbye instead of Stay.
The Vilas (vi’- lass) family was a very prominent family in New Hamphire. The little town of Alstead has a recreation center named Vilas Pool, given in the 1920’s and a school built in 1935 with money from the estate of Charles Vilas. Pictures are here:
http://home.comcast.net/~heidi.quinn/my_hometown_pool.htm
Alstead is our family’s homestead for many generations. My husband, daughter and grandchildren are there now. Wish i could have gone with them…
Just wait until you come to Wisconsin!!
Yes ma’m! Love how you wrote the “pronunciation” of Asheville. As the woman from said conversation, I got a huge kick out of your post. Love that I can hear you (and our conversation) in my head as I read! Blessings, and y’all come back :).
Well, bless your heart. 😉 Yes, here in NC, many cities end in either an -ville or -boro (pronounced burra). It is a fun observation we have made as transplants to the area.
I am excited to see what else you noticed as differences in the two areas. I too love to observe differences in different areas of the country.
Susan
We like to vacation in Canaan Valley, WV. That’s pronounced Kay-nane’.
Charlottesville is in VA the home of Thomas Jefferson, the University of VA, and the Cavaliers.
And one thing I learned as an Army wife with 19 moves in 30 years is this: be careful how you talk about a place – it’s someone’s home.
Aw, I hope I wasn’t disrespectful. I loved my trip and found the whole pronunciation thing fascinating. 🙂
I always feel like a military kid… 30 moves in 18 years but um… nope. Not military.