"Do you have 3 A's?"

My mind scrambles to decipher the language. As a teacher at heart, I immediately think of grades, but I am no longer a student, so it shouldn't be referring to grades. Apples, avocados, Artichokes. Probably not. What else could it be?

Seeing my blank look, she continues, "3 A's auto services?"

Aaahhh...Triple A...in my language. (AAA)

English is a crazy language and while many folk around here do in fact speak another language. English is an equally different language in different places. It isn't right or wrong. Just different.

It is like the grocery store, I wander the isles trying to figure out how the items are organized while scanning for familiar labels. The process is grueling. Melodramatic? Perhaps, but honestly it takes hours to navigate a grocery store with proficiency.

It different parts of the country the pattern of stores varies vastly. People organize and categorize information to help navigate the world. It helps us predict and anticipate thus aiding proficiency (and reducing stress). However, all my carefully organized information from every move is useless, as my brain desperately tries to determine the pattern, so I am reprogramming as I circle the store for the third time frustrated that I can't figure out where to find the lime juice.

I spend a lot of time these days watching and listening for clues. The valuable clues that will enable me to navigate this strange world a bit more proficiently.

Sometimes, I see a familiar label and buy it just because I crave the comfort of a recognizable pattern.

And the lady who lives on the neighboring block always stops to visit if she sees me because she craves a familiar conversation. She was born and raised in Pittsburgh, so she loves to chat about "home" with someone who knows the country. Even after 20+ years in California, she wants to talk about the Steelers, autumn, and the city in the context only locals understand.

The language of "home" is powerful.