<strong>Roberto</strong><br/>(http://i37.tinypic.com/sde0eg.jpg)<br/>I'd followed the group and sat down at the table. I was very wary of doing this thing properly; I'd only caught that Zaraki dude's name because he'd been giving copious examples of How Not To Eat Out In Japan. Luckily, Dad used to receive visitors from Japan quite frequently. I remembered the whole hand clapping "Itadakimasu thing from those heavily tattooed nine-fingered men. I flagged down a waitress, and ordered:<br/><strong>"Ehxcooz my gaijeen eegnorens. Can you breeng me ze udon nooodells weez whatever you poot on zem, and som of ze jasmeen plum whatever eet eez? Ahreegatto,"</strong>I smiled sweetly, and was impressed by how fast I was served. Nothing like anything I'd ever experienced in Latin America.<br/><br/><strong>"Eetahdahkeemuzu," I joined in with Her Imperial Highness and the rest of the group, and tucked into some unidentifiable yet delicious appetiser from a platter. <br/><br/><strong>"Ehsteemed Preseedente, I don't seenk I've had ze honoure of bee-eeng eentrodoushed ayzer,"</strong> I smiled at the girl who'd led us around earlier and whose rapport with the staff here was obviously quite useful. "<strong>Wahtashee wão Roberto Mendes da Silva dehzoo. I ãonly arraeeved from Brasil zees mãorneeng, soh I maiy seem a leetle slãow. Ahnd hoongry. I maeeght add. My compleementes on yowr choice of restohrante, and maiy raeez my glass tu a plehzant yeeahr aht Sendai,"</strong> I toasted my new classmates.</strong>