‘It’s another English class!’ I exclaimed.
‘What? What is it?’ asked Mary.
We were standing in the middle of Argyle Street, just around the corner from Oxford Circus station. I had opened the Meetup app the moment we had decided we were ready to ‘do a random’. I looked again at the Meetup description. The event had the title: ‘Two short vowels and the long vowels OO and AW’.
‘We can’t do this…’
I wasn’t happy. I started to wonder this group might fall under the ‘inappropriate Meetup rule’. I glanced at the next event on the calendar; some technical or IT event; eighty people had registered. Only six people had registered for ‘OO and AW’.
‘You’ve gotta do it. That’s the rule. That’s your rule’, challenged Mary. She was right. We needed to do this event, if only to demonstrate that I’m a man of integrity.
‘Look! There’s a mobile number! I’m going to give him a ring’.
I called the number. It was answered by Tim, the group organiser. I then launched into an unrehearsed explanation of why I wanted to attend his Sounds of English group, even though I’m thoroughly English.
‘That’s fine. You can both come’, said Tim, much to my relief. I gave a thumbs up to Mary, who looked excited. ‘Sorry, I don’t quite understand all that… Could you tell me why you want to come along again?’ asked Tim.
Two minutes later, we were on our way, heading in the wrong direction. Oxford Street was rammed. It was uncomfortably teeming with people; every single space of the pavement was occupied by shoppers who should know better than to head ‘to the west end’ on a Saturday afternoon.
‘Wait! It’s that way!’
Mary thought for a moment, and then agreed: we needed to go back to where we came from. Oxford Circus ranks number three on my list of confusing and bewildering underground stations; Bank easily takes the top spot, followed by Leicester Square. It took us five minutes to find our way to the Bakerloo line. When we arrived at Waterloo station I knew the way to go: a quick walk up a flight of stairs, and then a right hand turn to the entrance, passing the area where I proposed to Grace. I looked at a sign: we needed to go to the Blue Bar, which was on the fourth floor.
‘There’s a lift!’ said Mary. I couldn’t see it, so I followed Mary until I recognised the shape of a glass elevator. I glanced at my watch. I mentally willed the lift to travel to the ground floor. After waiting for what seemed to be an eternity, we got in, and were deposited on the right floor. I looked around. I saw a chap in the corner of the room, surrounded by a circle of chairs. I assumed this was Tim. Several of his students were milling around, having just arrived. We had found the Meetup with seconds to spare.
‘You do realise that this event is for non-native speakers only?’ said Tim. Mary blinked. ‘Yeah, that’s fine; I’m just, erm, here to learn. I’m happy to join in with whatever you’ve got planned’.
Mary pulled me to one side. ‘Non-native speakers only?’ She looked at me with an expression that said, ‘this is absolutely bonkers, have we really got to go through with this?’ I shrugged. We were here. The rules had taken us to this class; we were going to go through with it.
‘This is going to be hilarious!’ she suddenly exclaimed, bursting out into laughter.
We made a circle. There were around seven of us; a student from Korea, two Russians, a student from Scandinavia, South America and a couple of Eastern Europeans. There wasn’t time to chat; we went straight into the lesson.
The first exercise was all about breathing. We drew a breath, and then counted from one to eight, and then to 10, and then to 14. We moved onto saying the days of the week, all in a single breath. Then we did the months of the year. And then we had to say the months of the year followed by the days of the week, all in a single breath. Tim smiled at us as we all became collectively hypoxic.
It was time to move onto humming. We started with an M sound, moved onto an N sound, and then finally onto a V sound. It was at this point that I wondered whether we had inadvertently stumbled across some kind of weird yogic meditation exercise.
Finally, it was time to have a go at words. Tim gave us some sheets of paper. In unison, we all read: ‘Beat Bit, Deed Did, Heed Hid, Feeling Felling’.
It was time for us all to try to say a sentence. It was my go. I said the phrase: ‘The vicar’s kitten bit the bishop’.
‘Do it again.’
‘The vicar’s kitten bit the bishop’
‘That’s better.’
We then chanted ‘Lippity Lippity Lippity Lee, Dippity Dippity Dippity Dee, Tippity Tippity Tippity Tee’ in unison. Occasionally Tim stopped to listen to how some of his students were doing. It was fun, but after four pages of exercises, an impossible tongue twister, some work on the ‘EE’ sound, Mary turned to me and said, ‘what time it is?’ It was at that point I was wondering exactly the same thing; I was getting tired. The consonant pronunciation exercise, where we had to say ‘LBDP’ and ‘TPRB’, had been tough. After an hour of various exercises, corrections and repetitions, we arrived at the end of the class.
One student turned to me and asked me the inevitable question: ‘if you’re English, why are you doing this?’ I gave her an explanation; I told her about randomness, and said that this was my second English lesson. I asked her whether she had met Andy, the guy who ran the London English Conversation Group. She had been to his class too.
When everyone had gone, Mary and I chatted to Tim. Tim was an actor and his group had been going for around a year. His classes drew upon the experience that he had gained from acting and voice training courses. To make things clearer for his students, he organised the classes into different levels. Mary and I had accidentally stumbled into his ‘second level’ more advanced class.
I had never stopped to imagine what voice coaches did or how their classes might have worked. In some respects, Tim’s class was a revelation; I understood what he was trying to do. ‘It’s all about using and developing those voice muscles’, explained Tim. As he described this, I understood ‘muscle’ in a more metaphorical sense than a physical one. All I knew was that he created an opportunity to uncover, develop and practice new ways of articulation. I asked Tim about his acting, but I sensed that he was coy. Rather than telling us about films, or plays or shows, Mary and Tim chatted about acting schools for a few minutes, before he started to return the chairs to where they belonged.
We caught the elevator to the ground floor, and went to the bar. We both tired. We both needed a drink.
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