Allan Deonarine

Many people I meet are surprised to find out that I'm Trinidadian. Even colleagues I've worked with for years find it hard to believe. It's probably due to my lack of an accent. That instantly recognizable speech pattern that Trinidadians are known for the world over.

I lost mine after moving to Canada at a very young age. It took a while though. Conversations with my Canadian cousin about the proper way to pronounce the word "bat-a-re" - or "bat-tree" as I argued - are vivid in my memory. In recent years, I've see this type of conversation pop up again as to what's the "correct" way to pronounce certain words.

"Speak to me in your accent." It's a request I've gotten over and over that I can't seem to fulfill. But where did my accent go? Did it gradually faded away as I acclimatized to my new life in Canada or had I taken an active role in its eradication? Honestly, I'm not sure, but it's probably a combination of both. 

I didn't really have many Trini friends growing up in my new surroundings as I mostly hung out with Asian, East Indian, and Caucasian kids. I would try and fit in and a weird accent was not part of the plan. 

Even my parents, who have now lived in Canada longer than they lived back home have mellowed their accent to barely a trace. To me at least. I find it surprising that it only takes a few words for others to place them as Trini, even when they sound like a typical Canadian.

To be fair, I can speak with an accent, but it takes considerable effort. I have to carefully construct how it is supposed to sound and even then, it takes too much effort to sustain it and I tire quickly. When I'm back in T&T, it comes to me more naturally, because there are examples all around and it's just a matter of recalling overheard words and creating the sentence I want. 

That conversation of pronunciation was not by accident. Now that my circle of friends includes a Trinidadian with an accent, it happens regularly. The conversation then turns to me, in which I nod in agreement at my fellow countryman, but do not engage in and I'm ask once again: "Speak to me in your accent." They continue, "Why don't you have an accent? It's a sexy accent."  But of course I cannot oblige. I've lost it somewhere along the way, and I don't know if I can ever find it again. Even if I desperately want to.