I feel sorry for you, kiddo.
There is no country in the world in which you can take the bus and hear nothing but British English spoken.
But there's still a chance, with no need to move:
Build a time machine and go back, say 50 or 60 years. Nice double decker busses and hardly a speck of a foreign language.
Or better still, you could open up your heart and mind.
No, wait! Honestly, I think building a time machine would be an easier task for you.
I feel soooo sorry for you, kiddo.
He's only eighteen. Hes still a teen-ager. Maybe it can be looked at from the standpoint - although he said that he doesn't think the people on the bus using different languages are talking about him - that in actuality, to a certain extent - it's a natural function of adolescence to believe that EVERYONE is talking about you.
He'll grow out of that - most people do.
But what I hear him saying is that he's upset with the change. And so he's directing his upsetedness and attributing his discomfort to the change that he sees and hears - and that's the different people who have arrived to make what was once familiar and comfortable to him, unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
Again - I think it comes down to what you're used to. I grew up in a neighborhood and I would say a town - in which there were no Baptist people but my family. I'm SERIOUS!
We had to go to church, be edict of my parents, two or three towns over where a bunch of transplanted southerners had gotten together and built a church for all the transplanted southerners.
So here I am, one of six children being raised by two fundamentalist, southerners in the middle of a town where most of the people were living in Jewish households with three kids max and the remaining were Catholic with a few mainstream Protestants thrown in.
They all looked at me and my family like some exotic oddity that lived down the street. So what do you do? You know - I went to Hebrew School with my Jewish friends - took part in their seders - tried to wear a chai and a star of David necklace (my mother drew the line at that).
I went to catechism with my Catholic friends - dreamed about what name I'd pick for my confirmation name if I could have picked one (I wanted Theresa). Because what was the other choice? To sit down there in my own house, just learning my own culture's ways and feeling isolated?
But if I had felt uncomfortable, I think it would have been understandable.
It's not easy to feel encompassed and surrounded by the different and unfamiliar and to be the odd one out. Especially not when you're only 18.
But I do think that, in general, British people seem less able to roll with change than Americans. They have a long and hallowed sense of tradition that Americans just don't have.
And they do seem to believe (it seems to me) that there's only one right way to do something or one right way to say something...there doesn't seem to be a lot of innate flexibility in the British psyche.
I mean the other day, I said, 'Okay - I'll be there at quarter of one. And the person said, 'Quarter OF?! You mean quarter TO one, don't you?
And I was like -'Oh Jesez - same thing - you knew what I meant, didn't you?
But that person just wanted me to say it his way instead of my way - whereas when they say things their way - I don't even notice it- as long as I know what they mean.