Diary of a Gen Z Student: Yeah, no... I'm grand, I will yeah — and other quirks of Hiberno-English

It is only as I continually confuse other English speakers that I’m realising just how odd our phrasing can be

Jane Cowan in the Shelbourne Hotel, Dublin Photograph Moya Nolan

Some people say there is no such thing as direct translation. Because it’s not possible to wholly reproduce a language, region, dialect, historical epoch, culture, atmosphere and so on.

For example, there’s no word for ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in Irish. But the language functions perfectly fine without them. This is all information I know and understand.

Despite that, I often forget that speaking my version of English to people who have grown up with their own version will cause some difficulty. This has been brought into focus for me lately as I am visiting my sisters in Australia.

Further to that dilemma, I have an incessant desire to fit in with locals whenever I travel abroad. That requires a serious amount of Google and ChatGPT searches before my flight touches down. I want to be ready for anything. 

Of course, it never really works. My pitiful attempts at another language just ooze tourist. Bookending ‘Can I have a cappuccino?’ with ‘bonjour’ and ‘merci’ isn’t going to convince anyone, I have learned.

I thought I would get away without any miscommunication in Australia. Sure it’s an English-speaking country. We speak the same language. 

However, in practice, I am coming to understand just how much a language barrier exists between English speakers around the world.

Not that it’s a major issue, but I have found myself having to repeat and rephrase some of my Irish-isms whenever I’m conversing with an Australian. 

It’s fair enough, if you ask me. A lot of our phrasing doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, if you’ve not heard it before. Hibernian English is what we call it, but speaking gibberish is what everyone else seems to hear.

This language barrier first became apparent to me in an airport in Melbourne. A little dishevelled, needing sleep but settling for caffeine, I walked up to a bar and said: ‘You don’t do coffee?’. 

A simple enough question, to my mind. But to the poor Australian man behind the counter, I had just greeted him with a statement, telling him that he does not serve coffee.

The confused look on his face as he said ‘Would you like coffee?’ told me that maybe my question hadn’t been as clear as I thought.

In fairness to the guy, I hadn’t asked a question, but merely given the impression of an inquiry. So I tried to summon some standard grammar: “Yes… do you serve coffee here?” 

And we were golden. Soon enough, I was sipping an oat milk cappuccino and waiting to board my next flight.

Another confusing habit Irish people tend to have is our apparent inability to directly answer a question. It’s rare that you’ll get a clean cut ‘yes’ or ‘no’ from me.

Of course, in Ireland, the lack of coherence is grand. We understand how nuts we are. I can greet a magpie and everyone will know that I’m just warding off death. Obviously.

We also know that when someone says ‘no yeah’, we mean ‘yes’. And when someone says ‘yeah no’, we mean ‘no’. 

Also, if someone says ‘I will yeah’, what they’re really saying is ‘not a chance’. I could go on, but you know what I’m getting at. It’s all pretty intuitive for us. We go off vibes. And that does us perfectly well.

It only becomes a problem when you’re trying to communicate with someone who’s never heard of RIP.ie. 

In a restaurant in Melbourne, I was told that they had run out of the flavoured coffee I ordered. Not a problem. 

They asked if I would like to try an alternative flavour. Again, thinking I had mastered Aussie-ness, I said ‘no yeah, that’s perfect.’ 

The waitress staring blankly in response, illuminated the havoc I was wreaking on this nice woman. 

Rephrasing to ‘yes, I’ll try that’ got things straightened out. But it is only as I continually confuse other English speakers with my Hibernian English habits, that I’m realising just how odd our phrasing can be.

Fluent English speakers look at me with confusion when I think I couldn’t be clearer.

Basically, until I work out how to translate our terribly confusing turns-of-phrase, my chances of appearing local in Australia are not looking good. 

I’ve been trying my best, seriously. But there’s only so much I can ask ChatGPT before my laptop combusts. Maybe this just is ‘a me problem with a Duolingo solution’. 

Who knows anymore. And if you need this column translated, let me know. I won’t be able to help, but I’m interested, all the same.