My senses were very alert, observing as I watched how they greeted first my friend and then me. Embraces, handshakes, and then bows and "thank you" several times in both Japanese and English. No matter how much you tell yourself ahead of time that that will happen, it can still occasionally catch you of guard. I had left America at that moment. No longer was my ear filled with the words of my familiar mother tongue, but now they were a hum with the flowing words of Japanese.

I got to drive the taxi, which is not something that some one normally does when arriving in another country. The rhythmic sound of Japanese continued as my friends took in the sites of the City from my backseat. Such giant, straight roads. So much wide open sky. These were somewhat new to me again too.

We got all the luggage into the hotel room and then went for lunch at Applebee’s. The food was of course familiar, but it was also new as I watch my friend’s father dig into his first Oklahoma steak. I had one myself, indulging like it was also my first time.

Conversation began, and my speaking and listening skills were put to the test. The key was understanding, and meeting each other where we were at as we tried to communicate. And communicate we did. We talked about everything, from the wonderfully strong, almost addictive taste of the chocolate dessert to the Texas Rangers’ recruiting team, the Red Hawks, in OKC. But soon it was time for my friend’s parents to get some sleep and adjust to the new time zone.

I returned to America...

I left America the other day, this time with another friend. He guided me as we shot south in my car, crossing the Red River and passing Fort Worth, but not going so far as to cross the Rio Grande. The trip was shorter than expected, but it always is with a good friend beside you. We had a little time so we went shopping quickly, but my friend’s family arrived even before we had finished.

Greetings, these being somewhat more eligible: "¡Hola! ¿Como estas?" and many other expressions and questions, which my limited Spanish vocabulary does not contain. Nevertheless, smiles, handshakes, and hugs are quite well understood, and the pictures taken were by no means out of place. The food was pretty similar in this new country. Hamburgers, fries, but of course I already knew that McDonald’s was international. Their paper cups and things even have multiple languages written on them.

Conversation continued in the melodies of Spanish. I understood very little unless it was spoken directly to me, and even then I some times needed a translation. Most of the talking wasn’t for or about me and my culture. I didn’t expect it to be though. I was with my friend’s family, his mom and dad, sister, brother-in-law, and their son. (The proud uncle loved holding his nephew.) I dove into the wonderful flavor of ketchup and fries, and just listened to the foreign music in their language.

This visit was pretty short, and soon, after more pictures, we were zooming up I-35 again, coming back to America...

I was in America yesterday, and I started a conversation with another student who was from India...