Back in 2,000, before the turn of the millenium, I dragged my in-laws and my wife to the USA for our second wedding ceremony–for the record, there were three total in two hemispheres. While we were there, we went to Kansas City to  visit my friend Steve Brisendine and his family.

We were staying in a hotel and I had to call him and let him know our hotel phone number so we could arrange mind-numbing consumption at KC Masterpiece. (This was a compromise as we thought the shouting at Gates would scare the hell out of them.)

After a half-hour of listening to me carefully recite the numbers, Steve paused, perhaps to splash water on his face to wake up, and said something to the effect of “I can tell you’re used to talking to people who don’t speak English.”

Talking funny is one of the unusual side effects of living overseas, especially if you’re a teacher.

First, to communicate with your students, you begin to speak slowly and carefully. The challenge is to retain normal intonation: “NOW-OO EV-ER-Y-ONE LIS-TEN TO MEEEE” is not particularly helpful to  your students. (Neither, it should be added, is a rapid “Y’alllisnup”) Eventually, your native accent begins to erode. Professor and musician Dan Strack wrote the song “You’ve Lost Your Native Accent” (Sung to the tune of “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” ) in honor of this. (He also included, ominously, the line “you’ve lost nearly half your vocabulary”.)

In my case, my Kansas twang, stretched “A”s (It’s not Kansas it’s KAAANsas) and dropped “G”s (it’s lovin’ not loving) disappeared and I now have a broadcaster’s voice that would be right at home on CNN or MSNBC (unfortunately I can’t work at either place because I’m only a partial moron not a total one.)

I also, despite my best efforts, I still speak numbers slowly. In my defense, that’s often necessary when talking on the phone with airlines and banks in other countries.

The effects of this are especially brutal on people from England, Scotland and Australia, who, despite admirable resistance, eventually begin sounding a lot more like me.

Then there are the odd grunts and sighs you pick up. I also find myself bowing a lot when I go home and the occasional arigato slips out.

I do have one quirky way of speaking that’s stuck with me, but that’s fodder for another entry. (Hint: Who What Where When Why Which and Whore.)