The rest of the world rightly calls it a ‘thumb war’. What is going on here?
One of the fun things about being an Australian dating someone from Aotearoa is the incredible cultural exchange. It is most notable in tiny quirks of language, possibly because my girlfriend is a poet and editor, and I’m a writer. As you can imagine, we are very alert to and deeply annoying about these sorts of things.
On a surface level, we enjoy (lovingly) mimicking (mocking) each other’s accents daily. I laugh every time she says the word “pepper” because it’s too cute to be believed, and she loves imitating me when I say the word “here”, because my bogan Queensland accent means I somehow stretch it to three syllables. She also enjoys when I say the word “no,” which is famously “naur”, but also when I say “Coke”, which is apparently “caurk”. Outside of accents, the little variations in word use fascinate us (we are cool), and we are delighted every time we come across one. Or almost every time.
In Australia when you are angry or frustrated you “arc up”, and in New Zealand when you deliberately make someone angry or frustrated you “rark them up”. Such a tiny difference, but meaningful. How did that happen?
Interestingly(?), we’ve also found that Queensland and Aotearoa share some slang terms that are alien to other Australian states. Queenslanders are the only ones who know what you people are talking about when you call swimwear “togs”. Queensland (as far as I know) is the only state that calls cocktail sausages “cheerios” like you do. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s a fact. In some way it makes sense, as Brisbane is closer to your whole country than to Perth.
Some of our regional expressions have by now leaked into each other’s vocabulary. She’ll say “fuck me dead” when she’s frustrated these days, which I consider a marker of my great influence. I have also taken several of her expressions for myself. I now use the word “wee” a lot more to describe small things, which I’ve learned is a Scottish immigration hand-me-down over there.
I love how you New Zealanders use the word “buzzy”, which perfectly encapsulates a feeling – but is hard to pin down with a definition. For Australian readers, it’s in the neighbourhood of “trippy”, but can be used in both a positive and negative way. To my girlfriend, seeing a superb lyrebird running along a path in the bush was buzzy; to another friend, being in a minor car crash felt buzzy.
One New Zealand-ism that I’ve blatantly stolen and am spreading like propaganda across the pond is the word “pottle”. It’s perfect, and cute. Instead of saying, “Can you hand me that small plastic container,’ you can instead be more efficient and more adorable by asking for a pottle.
The exchange of language, slang and culture has been a fun adventure, and clearly I have an open mind towards accepting and embracing Aotearoa’s funny little ways. However there is one word New Zealanders use that I will not be adopting.
Imagine this – you are a grown woman lesbian challenging your girlfriend to an innocent game of thumb war, and she tells you that in her country they don’t call it a thumb war, they call it… a peaknuckle war. Peaknuckle. What is going on here?
Some New Zealanders I’ve told have been surprised that calling a thumb war a “peaknuckle war” is not global. Of course it’s not! It’s insane! None of you even seem to know why it is called peaknuckle. It’s not like Edmund Hillary said it when his thumb clawed to the top of Everest.
As far as I can figure out, it might be based on the name of an old American card game.
It makes no sense, I don’t like saying the words pea and knuckle together, and it doesn’t tell you anything about the game you are about to experience. I also think “I declare a peaknuckle war” has too many syllables, but my (poet) girlfriend assures me that it does scan. To me, it’s too complicated. In Australia we call it a thumb war because you use your thumb to go to war. Simple. Clear. Accurate.
I’ve learned many wonderful things about Aotearoa and I’ve happily adopted bits of your language and culture over the past handful of years. I concede that New Zealand’s lamingtons are superior. I am now in love with all your special birds. All New Zealand sporting teams are my teams-in-law, despite my girlfriend having no interest in them herself. But one thing I am never going to do is use the word peaknuckle. I will never be worn down. I will win this (thumb) war.
