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Just as the Southerner must have the Northern-speak of a New Yorker translated, so must those of us from the States have the English of someone from the United Kingdom translated. During a weeklong visit with a fine group of early childhood educators from the UK, I often questioned whether or not our "Yankee" English -- in this usage of the word, all of y'all are all Yankees -- actually derived from England.

It didn't take long for me to catch on that chips are fries and crisps are chips. It did take our esteemed visitors a bit to get the hang of sweet tea, which is not hot and does not need milk. Since Hubby and I love hot teas of all kinds, I understood that they needed a different tea altogether. To phrase it as my new friends would, they needed "proper" tea.

Actually, they craved it like I do a pot of coffee when waking to a new day and stumbling around the kitchen.

We were able to secure some proper tea -- or at least decently flavored hot tea that was worthy of a spot of milk. And, within a few days, they caught on that when ordering tea, they had to specify "hot tea" rather than simply asking for tea.

Miscommunication also centered around biscuits. We rather enjoy our buttery, fluffy hot biscuits. They use the term biscuit for cookie. Yes, an Oreo, which they cannot get on their side of the pond, would be referred to as a biscuit. Imagine their surprise when they had the honor of biting into the soft, silkiness of a real Southern biscuit.

Not only did the group become acquainted with Yankee biscuits, but I also had the pleasure of exposing one of them to what I now term "proper pork." Four of the five in the group were vegetarians, so only one was able to experience the full flavor and decadence of good ol' Southern barbecue.

Hubby and I made sure that our new friend enjoyed a hearty sample of shredded pork, barbecue sauce, hush puppies and slaw. When I first mentioned the hush puppies, several pictured food served up with a pair of shoes. They also expected the slaw to be similar to cole slaw. I diplomatically explained the differences.

And I must have done a great job, because my new friend took to combining the slaw and barbecue well. He even dipped his hush puppies in the extra barbecue sauce. Please note that this was a carryout sample, and we failed to obtain a minitub of honey butter. Not to worry -- we'll do it right the next time.

Only one in the group was a smoker. She appreciated the gentle health warning, in small font, discreetly printed on the side of the cigarette box.

The box she brought from the UK had big, bold, black lettering that claimed rather emphatically, "Smoking causes fatal lung cancer." The warning was printed in larger font than the brand name. Seeing that I was amused by the bold statement, she flipped the box over and showed me the other warning -- "Smoking is bad for your health and the health of those around you."

What she liked most was the extremely inexpensive cost of cigarettes in the U.S. She was able to buy a carton for the same price -- once the pound and dollar conversions were done -- as one pack of cigarettes in the UK.

Not only were cigarettes cheaper, but so were blue jeans. Ours run about $25 to $50. The same would cost more than $150 in the UK. Luggage was cheaper, too, as members of the group learned when they purchased extra bags to carry home all their inexpensive clothes and souvenirs.

As we drove across the state visiting high quality Head Start centers for a week, they ogled at amber gamblers (translation: someone who drives through a yellow light), called lorrie drivers "bloody" when we were cut off in traffic (translation: called truck drivers something bad), and spent hours trying to convince me that the World Series was misnamed, as the U.S., even if we include a Canadian team, does not make up the entire world.

It took patience, a bit of sign language and a few jokes, but we communicated through seven days of international early childhood collaboration. I dare say we even became semi-fluent in each other's languages. Should I be so fortunate as to make a reciprocal visit, I feel quite confident in my ability to ask for directions to the loo.

Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com.