While traveling through Spain, I met an English speaking woman at the hostel at which I was staying. Because of her accent, I was pretty sure she was Canadian. After chatting for a bit, I asked her where she was from.
“Edmonton.”
“Me too!”
“I thought so. You have that Edmonton accent.”
I didn’t get around to asking her what this Edmonton accent was and I didn’t see her again.
The following year, while hiking Vancouver Island’s West Coast Trail, I met a group of hikers coming from the other direction. I chatted with one of the women, who spoke with a Chinese accent, about the trail up ahead. I finally asked where she was from.
“Vancouver. Originally from Hong Kong. You from Edmonton?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“My daughter is in Calgary. You don’t sound like Calgary.”
Did I really sound that different from a Calgarian? Was there an accent specific to Edmonton?
To find out what I do sound like, I visited Anja Arnhold, a linguist at the University of Alberta. Originally from Berlin, she speaks English with a slight lilt and moderate German accent. I followed her down the hallway to her sound isolation booth.
I sat at a table, surrounded by charcoal-coloured sound absorption panels, and adjusted the microphone. Arnhold handed me a list of words to read while she captured the sound on her computer for an acoustic analysis.
The visual representation of my voice looked like the lines a lie detector spits out. My voice did not lie. I’m a typical prairie speaker. Nothing distinguishes me as being from Edmonton, as opposed to Calgary or Winnipeg.
“With a few exceptions like Newfoundland, there is not much variation within Canada. On the prairies it’s middle-of-the-road Canadian English,” said Arnhold.
My middle-of-the-road English means I pronounce “about” as “a-buh-owt.” “Out” is “uh-owt.” “Mouth” is “muh-owth.” These are examples of Canadian raising and refers to the quality of two vowel sounds – “ow” and “aye.”