I remember writing home after I
had worked a few weeks in Rangoon, Burma, and saying, "Hey,
Mom, I’m learning a new language–it’s called
English!"My assignment was to teach music at the Methodist English High School, which was a British English school. Since my term was for only three years, I was not dependent on learning any Burmese (although I did try to learn some). The principal of the school where I taught was British, and quite insistent that her Burmese students learn proper English.
One day when my choir was learning the Easter hymn, "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?" the students pronounced the word "were" so that it rhymed with "there" or "wear." I corrected them, saying it should be pronounced to rhyme with "sure." Before the day was over, I was called into the principal’s office and informed that their pronunciation had been correct, and I should not pollute the King’s English with my Americanisms. So from then on I made a real effort to speak correctly. Actually, I learned very fast, and soon any new friends were quite certain I was from England, not the United States.
When I returned home after three years I had developed a really British brogue. Of course, it didn’t last after I had been home a while. But I notice I can "turn it on" when I want to.