i still find it jarring when strangers speak to me in english.
an algerian man i walked by on the way home asked if he could walk with me. it was so familiar: the frustration of wishing you could get over the language barrier and fluently see what this man is like. not wanting to show him where i lived, we went to a cafe for the ten minutes he had before work. he bought me a chai latte and had an espresso, something americans barely ever order. he has been here for three months, working nights at a gas station and taking english classes for the same amount of time. our roles were reversed, but it felt so much like being abroad again that i felt more at home than i have in weeks.