Why I Hid My Accent for 16 Years, and How Google Outed Me
Try all you want. The algorithm is going to find you.
‘Turn lift.’
‘Continue street.’
Or my personal favourite:
‘Hid est.’
Forget my wedding or the births of my children, Wednesday was the happiest day of my life.
And, if I’m being perfectly honest, simultaneously the scariest day too.
Get this:
I was heading to Yuza. I love driving to Yuza. You can basically stare at Chokai-san the whole way there, a mountain that gives the Fooj a run for its money.
I was going somewhere unfamiliar so I asked Google Maps for directions. However, instead of the usual:
’Turn left’,
‘Continue straight’, and
‘Head east’,
I got:
‘Turn lift’,
‘Continue street’, and
‘Hid est’.
My first thought was, WTAF,
since when does Google speak my language?!
I was in heaven! What a revelation! This is better than the last day of yamabushi training! ‘Chuffed as’ doesn’t even begin to described how chuffed as I was.
Finally, my phone had gone and done it. For the first time in my life it spoke a language that truly felt like home. For the first time in my life, well, besides when I talk to my sister I guess1, my phone had used Standard New Zealand English.
Because, as anyone from a country not big enough to be acknowledged by big tech would tell you, this never happens.
None of this ‘English (US)’, ‘English (UK)’, or if we’re feeling lucky ‘English (Australia)’ being the only options bullshit.
Actual Kiwi English. With the ‘fush’ and the ‘chups’ and the ‘chur’ and the ‘bru’ and everything else.
But why does this even matter?
When I first got to Japan in 2010, people (let’s be honest, it was just the Americans2) had real trouble understanding me. I had to adjust the way I spoke to get someone to pass me my ‘flip flops’ (jandals) or a glass of warder (wai).
I needed to escape all the trauma the American words had caused, things like your ‘all y’all’s, ‘bangs’, ‘bleachers’, and ‘cracker jacks’. Whatever they are. I honestly don’t know what cracker jacks are, or why you would want them at a cricket match for that matter…
Speaking of, our Australian cuzzies aren’t much better. Whenever I go there everyone insists on calling me ‘Tem’3. I’m not ‘Tem’. That honour belongs to another Kiwi. You know, Dr. Hone Ropata, or the seemingly more well-known ‘Jango Fett’, ‘Boba Fett’ or ‘Clone Troopers’. I actually fooled a fellow Kiwi into thinking I was Australian with this. He just looked at me and said, ‘as in Temuera?’
But the worst part was when Apple brought out Siri. Even now if I don’t put on my best mid-western American accent, voice prompts on my iPhone simply will not work. If I want my phone to check the weather I practically have to unhinge my jaw and yell:
“Did all y’all cut your bangs under the bleachers with them cracker jacks or what?”4
My accent trauma got so bad I got a Masters of Applied Linguistics where I literally learned the how and why of teaching English pronunciation. Let’s just say you probably don’t want to be teaching standard New Zealand English. It’s so bad I tell my students not to copy it whenever it appears in the wild.
I mean, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my students walking around saying ’wop wops’, ‘jandals’, and ‘yous guys’ (‘all y’all’ isn’t any better). Could you imagine little Hanako or Taro walking around saying ‘yeah, nah’ when asked a question, or adding ‘bru’ or ‘ay’ to the end of every sentence with an upwards inflection to boot?
Which leads us to the question: how did my phone know I was a Kiwi?
I don’t remember changing any settings. And I’m pretty sure my daughters didn’t ‘accidentally’ do it either.
The truth, it appears, is much more existential.
I had heard Google was working on getting the pronunciation of indigenous place names correct, with Māori names getting special attention, even the longest place name on earth: Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu (a little north-est of Te Awa Kairangi).
It sounds like this:
My first theory was that I had put ‘English (Aotearoa)’ somewhere in my Google settings and they had finally released these voiceovers. But then I remembered: That’s impossible. Google is an American company. America doesn’t think New Zealand exists5.
And you know what, I was half-right: Google Maps did indeed bring out a New Zealand accented voice and correct pronunciation of Maori names (suck it, David Seymour).
This is probably why:
But the second part to the answer, the ‘why me?’ part was much creepier.
After some very vigorous (Google Gemini) research, it turns out that because I first registered my Google account in Te Awa Kairangi, Aotearoa, some 20 odd years ago, Google Maps placed me in the ‘this guy is from Aotearoa, specifically Te Awa Kairangi, let’s give him some straight up proper as English’ category.
So the past 16 years of me trying to mask my accent have been for nothing. I got great jaw definition just asking about the weather, got an MA in Applied Linguistics, and even changed the ‘i’ sound in my name to Australian (shudders) so I could escape the clutches of the algorithm.
But yeah, nah. Try all you want ay. Escape to the other side of the world for all I care. Hide in the wop wops and become a literal mountain monk (yamabushi). Google’s still gonna get you ay bru.
Chur.
Daily Yamabushi Posts for July 3 to July 9, 2026
Here are my Daily Yamabushi posts for the past week. Get more Daily Yamabushi posts at timbunting.com/daily-yamabushi. Discover more Japan essays and daily insights in the Kiwi Yamabushi Substack Archive, or follow my writing over on Medium.com.
My brother is also Australian now so doesn’t count.
This was true probably 90% of the time. Not always.
This is a joke. Generally I would say Australian English is better than New Zealand English. Who knows what those people from Queensland are on about though. ‘Jump in the pewl?’
Would someone mind explaining what cracker jacks are?
To be fair it’s not just America.