Then came the harsh laws against settlement, which changed these respectable people into outlaws. There were among them of course, as is always the case, the undesirables, the dishonest, quarrelsome, and drunken who disturbed the peaceful community, and there were neither policemen to prevent disorder nor courts to punish those who caused it. There were sometimes ugly scenes and many crimes which the better people were powerless to stop. There were often marked differences between the type of settler at places only a few miles apart, and this affected the habits and customs of these places for generations. The people who lived in Conception Bay were as different from those who lived in Trinity Bay as if they belonged to a different nation. At one place the people might be coarse and crude; while at the next they might be quiet, refined and law-abiding. Yet in spite of all the hardships and restrictions the population continued to increase. The king of England could make laws, but he could not enforce them; the English merchants might have the ear of the king, but they could not drive out the settlers, although they could and did succeed in making life almost unbearable for them.

In later years, around the time the ban on settlement was lifted, there was a large immigration from Ireland, where often people were induced to emigrate because of false information given them of prospects in the country to the west. As was the case with the English, more than two hundred years earlier, friends settled together and sometimes upon visiting such communities, one might be excused for thinking that he had somehow crossed the Atlantic and was in a village in the land of the shamrock and leprechaun. Place names too often tell of a homesick people with Ireland's Eye, Jersey Harbour, and English Harbour being good examples. It should also be noted that the local pronunciation is usually the soft brogue generally associated with England and Ireland. Place names also tell a lot about the people who settled there, their hardships may be seen in names like Bleak Island, Misery Point, Savage Cove and Wreck Cove. That fishing and the sea was their main concern is known by Caplin Cove, Trout River, Herring Neck and Boat Harbour. Animals and Birds were common on the Island and were not forgotten with such names as Pigeon Island, Horse Chops, Gander Bay and Otter Point. Some people found happiness in the new land as shown in Heart's Desire, Heart's Content, Heart's Delight Comfort Cove and Paradise. Other's saw the humorous side of life, even amid their troubles naming their places of residence Jerry's Nose, Blow Me Down, Joe Batt”s Arm and Nancy Oh. When ideas ran out they came up with Nameless Cove and Harbour Harbour.

One female student wanted to start a language course by studying Spanish spoken by a Mexican teacher. She had no prior exposure to Spanish and so could have been accommodated by any good Spanish language speaker at least to learn the language base before focusing on the accent issue. In the end she backed down from the course. Why be fixed on a Mexican accent when the grammar and basic sentence structures are the same in Mexican or Spanish?

I backed the information with my own experience teaching one student who drifted suddenly from one topic to the next and noticed that this was often a tactic of their not wanting to face their mistakes in print. In this case, we were in the midst of a reading so it was inappropriate when the student suddenly moved from one subject to the next without allowing me to finish an explanation.

This student had to be told to leave her questions for the end. I noticed this interruptive pattern more among my female students than male ones.

My manager backed that up too by statements he got from prospective students doubtful of his teacher’s expertise or looking for a specific answer from the teacher without giving him time to complete an answer. He said that he has to tell them to trust a teacher’s methodology because they are prepared in instructing people and he noticed that he does not have to say this to his male clientele.

Another student began to cry because she was being corrected and felt ‘exposed’ according to my manager. He then mentioned wouldn’t that have been in her interest to know where she has gone wrong in her pronunciation so that she could improve? That seems that most students would prefer frankness from a teacher someone who will tell them eventually what their weaknesses are and get them to improve. Still there is certain number of labile students unable to cope with the reality of learning a language. It seems like something insurmountable or harsh and in fact all it takes is just a matter of acceptance and that everybody can learn given a positive approach.

The English language is constant source of amusement for me as I live alongside some very colourful people from a variety of different countries. So, why is this amusing? Well, fortunately for me, English is the language that is most widely spoken in order for other nations to communicate. Hoorah! Consequently, as English is my native tongue, I regularly hear some real howlers on my little island paradise in the Gulf of Thailand. Now please do not think for a minute that I am trying to ridicule other folks from other countries who are doing a marvellous job of speaking my language, whereas I sadly cannot speak theirs. No, on the contrary, I am completely in awe of anyone who speaks another language. I find it simply amazing. We would just not be ble to communicate if they didn't. Simple as that. So, I am not ridiculing, but I do want to share some priceless moments with you……

The Ice Breaker

A few years ago, when bird flu was the hot topic, especially if you lived in South East Asia, I was having a small party which involved large quantities of gin. It was the first one of the year and there were a few new people there who we had just met and thus, as it was early evening, the conversation remained polite.

The question is asked “Does anyone know whether there has been any cases of bird flu reported on the island yet?”

Daniel, lovely gay Dutch man who speaks beautiful and oh so accurate English, replies ”No, there are no cases of bird flu at all on the island. I was reading in the Bangkok Post….. all the cocks on the island are clean and healthy”.

Stunned silence. It's one of those moments when you just don't know how to react. We don't all know each other that well at this point, but this is just too good to pass over. I can feel a balloon of hilarity building inside my rib cage. I look around at our group to see if I can see anything similar happening with them. Yes…. there it is…..they've all clocked it….. can they hold….can they…. Nooooo!

Angelica (German) is first in with a beauty, “Bloody hell Daniel! Wish you'd told me before….. I'm going home tomorrow!”

Ahahah! Many people falling on the floor in crumpled heaps of laughter. More gin then?! Oh how we bonded over Daniel's clean and healthy cock story, which incidentally has now been told at many dinner parties around the world. Daniel had the good grace and humour to be delighted with his faux pa and is always keen for someone to relate the story in his presence!

The Back Handed Compliment

One evening the conversation turned to my good friend Gin Jan (the clue is in the name), much to her horror, as the question of her age came up. Now GJ (English) is looking might fine. She's the wrong side of 55 but looks more like 45. She's a knockout! (Although she never believes anyone who tells her). Cedric (French speaking Swiss) nearly fell off his chair when he found out. “Zhan, my God,” he said in his fantastic thick French accent, “I zhought you were zhirty vize (35)” A moment of silence. Furrowed brows. Confusion expressions. Native English speakers and other Europeans alike tried to digest this offering. Haych (English) turns to GJ and with her usual deadpan dryness responded, ”Well, Gin Jan, I'm sure Cedric just said you should be certified. I don't know about you but frankly I think that's a bit rude”. I think this was probably a bit too much of what is known as the "English sense of humour" for some, Others fell about, whilst poor Cedder's still hadn't got a clue what certified meant! Brilliant!

Stale Mate

Marika's (German) "long stay bread" will make me laugh to the day I die. She was kindly making me a sandwich but she only had "long stay bread". Long stay bread? What the bloody hell is long stay bread? I wonder if she got that from the German Bakery up the road? They sell some really strange stuff in there. Really, they do.

But no, what she wanted to tell me was that she had no fresh bread, but didn't know the word for stale, so she had ingeniously come up with long stay bread as the closest she could get. I like it, it really caught on. We still call it long stay bread. Much more descriptive, don't you think?

Irish Whisky

Now, just because English is my native tongue, it would seem that doesn't necessarily mean that it's all plain sailing. One night, I went to meet some friends in a local bar. I walked in, there were two Swiss, a German and two Thais. There was a man at the bar I didn't know. One Swiss man says to me “Thank god you are "ere. Speak with this man. He says he is speaking English, but no one understand what he"s saying.” “Where's he from?”. “He's Irish”. Ah, OK. I can see that they might have a few problems with that, but nothing I couldn't handle???!!!! Crikey jeepers, got that wrong!

I sit down next to the Irish guy. “Hi,” I say “how are you?” He replies (I think)…a sentence of something or other, not sure. I turn back to the others….”He's not speaking English.” I tell them confidently. Large hilarity break out. “He is! You not understand him either? He speak same language as you!! Ahahah!” OK, I try again. I turn back to the man, he's looking at me and he knows. He knows we are speaking the same language, he knows what I'm saying, he knows I haven't got a clue what he's saying, and he knows that no one in the bar knows what he's saying either. The poor sod.

Right. Concentrate. Ask him to speak more slowly…. people are always asking me to do that….. mind you, they don't speak English. Never mind. “Please speak slowly”. Right we're getting somewhere. His name is ……….yes….it's Paddy. No, really, it's true! Paddy from Cork. Paddy from Cork after twelve Mekong (Thai whisky) Cokes. Twelve! 70% proof. Oh for god's sake. What chance do you really have? That explains it. Is it my fault he's incoherent?

For a moment I was in the twilight zone. How do you explain to five non-native English speakers who are falling about all over the place with laughter, that you can't communicate with someone who speaks the same language? Thank God he was drunk, because I do wonder whether I would have been able to understand him anyway. It was a very strong brogue. Paddy stayed around for a week or two, so we managed to develop a form of English that we could all understand. Well, mostly… sort of…..yeah.

So, our rich language. A great source of national and international confusion. Providing an unlimited source of pure laughter. I can amuse myself for hours pondering and playing with words, listening to others, reading other peoples offerings.

The conclusion I have come to is that I don't have enough time in this lifetime to master another language as I am having far too much fun with this one!

However there is definitely more to this colourful community that merely appearances. For instance the food…Parsi cuisine has a flavour that sets it apart form most cuisines. It is mainly non vegetarian as Parsis are a meat-eating lot. In fact it would be quite safe to mention, that most of them think, that God did not place them at the top of the food chain to be vegetarians. Parsi wedding feasts are a production in themselves. Everyone loves to be invited for these…mainly due to the excellent food & alcohol served. The former is a necessity & the latter a compulsion. Alcohol is a key ingredient for losing bawa inhibitions in a social gathering & the open bar tradition is one that is most diligently upheld by every bawa worth his sali-par-eedu (a Parsi snack made of potato sali & egg). Woe betide anyone should the alcohol supply at a wedding/navjote party/house party ever dwindle. The host in question would in all probability face excommunication, or at the very least, be the subject of many a hushed conversation for quite a while afterwards.

It is actually a sight to behold all of the matriarchs of the various families dressed to the nines in their emerald broaches & the men resplendent in the spotless white dugli. The very epitome of old-world charm & dignity…EXCEPT when the announcement for dinner is made. “Jamwa chalo jee” (or come to the dinner table) is the battle cry equivalent for all hell to break loose, as grace & poise are tossed by the wayside in a bid to get the best patra ni macchi & lagan nu custard. However no matter how delectable the food, there will always be that one gentleman or lady who will take it upon themselves to be the Devil's Advocate as far as the quality of the food is concerned…claiming they have had better. I think they look upon it as a test of weather or not they would be considered as connoisseurs, depending on their ability to critique. (My own grandfather is one such individual…90+ & as opinionated as ever ! ).

However the Parsi community also believes in doing their bit for the betterment of society.A lot them are patrons of fine arts. Eg :- Contemporary artists, Opera, Western classical music, Duke's Raspberry Soda, vintage cars…all owe their survival in this increasingly cutthroat commercial competition to the unfailing patronage of the bawas of Bombay.

In conclusion it is a safe analogy to equate the bawas with the salt in a dish…One may not necessarily taste it in the food …but it would be unthinkable to make one without it.