Arabic In A Foreign Land

Young and I went to see a movie Sunday afternoon. Afterwards, I had to catch a cab back to my area of town to prepare my lessons for Sunday evening. He hailed a cab for me and, in Korean, told the driver where to take me. As I settled into the back, the driver asked me, in Korean, if I spoke Korean. I answered, Only a little. He asked me where I was from. I told him San Francisco. Ohhhh, American. He switched to English. How long had I been in Korea? What was I doing here? Why in the world would I want to leave San Francisco? Had I ever visited Canada? I complimented him on his English. He mentioned he had perfected it while living in Kuwait and working as a dental assistant. Kuwait? Yes, have you ever heard of it? Yes, I used to live there as well. Then he busted out in Arabic. I looked around. There have to be cameras watching me somewhere. What are the odds that I would meet two Koreans, in the course of a couple of weeks, who lived in Kuwait and speak Arabic? The taxi driver, however, did *not* offer to feed me raw fish. I’m making progress.