Fred and I were out at a soba place last week. Soba is the Japanese for buckwheat, but soba also means buckwheat noodles. When you hear most people talking about soba, they are probably referring to the noodles. Our waiter asked us what the English was for soba and I didn't even try to answer. Fred replied immediately that soba was fine. He continued by saying that some people would not understand and that you would need to explain. Then you could simply say that soba is buckwheat noodles. Fred concluded by comparing soba to sushi, saying that in 25 years everybody in the United States would probably understand the word soba, just as everybody now understands the words sushi and kimono.

When our waiter went away, I said that everybody was interested in English. Fred answered, "Actually, I am too. Believe it or not, I was actually attacked for linguistic insensitivity the last time I was in the states. I was taking a tour of a museum with some friends and really enjoying listening to all of the different North American English accents. The tour had a couple of New Englanders, a southerner, and a Canadian family whose speech was just dripping with the Canadian eh. You know what I mean, eh?"

I foolishly started to reply when Fred forged on. "So, I turned around to one of my buddies and I said, 'I really love listening to all this English.' One woman spun around and jumped on me, saying that I shouldn't be so English centric or something like that. Can you imagine that? I live my life in Japan, speaking more Japanese than English. I speak several other languages fluently and smatterings of others. I love languages and have spent a great deal of time, energy, and money on getting better at them. And this woman had the nerve to jump on me.

I waited, eager to hear what Fred had said back to the woman who attacked him. Fred paused, an unusual action for him, and continued. "Can you believe that I was speechless? I wasn't able to say anything. In retrospect, I have thought of a million answers. At the time though, I just couldn't think of what to say. Well, fortunately, Maura immediately jumped into the fray."

"You shouldn't aggressively jump into conversations and attack people like that when you don't know what is going on. Didn't your mother teach you to ask questions first and make conclusions after getting all your information? Fred here happens to live in Japan. He spends most of his life in Japanese, both working and at home. He speaks at least four languages fluently, has traveled around the world, and is still interested in learning more languages. What is English centric about that? When Fred is back in America, he enjoys hearing all the different English accents that we have here. Fred loves languages, including his own."

I could just picture it. I started to say so, but I couldn't get a word in as usual. Fred continued on, "Well, the woman muttered an apology and slunk away. I thanked Maura for stepping in on my behalf. And what do you think she said?"

Fred continued, "She said, 'I can't believe you did not reply to her. You never used to be so quiet and slow to speak. Japan has really slowed down your speech.'"

Maura was right. Fred may dominate English speech in Japan among other Japanese and Westerners, but when he is back in America, things are different. He is just a touch slower and a touch more thoughtful. The bull of the woods in English conversation in Japan is just a puppy when he gets back to America.

Living abroad barely changes some people, people who live in ghettos with their own ethnic group and never learn the local language. For people like Fred though, people who learn the local language and live and work in it, something changes. Speech patterns, thinking, and vocabulary can all change. People change in different ways. Still, none of these changes are as great as we think they are. If Fred went back to America permanently, I am sure he would be able to more than hold his own after a few weeks setting back in. After all, Fred is Fred.