Intrepid Optimist is the place where I can share my stories; fact, fiction and thoughts from the past and present. It’s Written by myself for people who believe adventure knows no age
On my way to a meeting this morning I was approached by a Syrian refugee at a rush-hour filled German railway station, who needed help. In English, I gave him the directions he required.
“Thank you so much for your assistance,” He said, in relatively good English. “I asked you because I don’t speak German and I thought you looked English. And may I ask, if you are from Manchester?”
“Indeed, I am,” I replied, quite astonished. “And how did you guess this.”
“I recognized the dialect.” He answered, and went on to explain that an engineer from Manchester had worked for a while in his uncle’s, Mosul factory, installing textile machinery. Prior to meeting this person, his knowledge of English came from his time at school.
I wished him good fortune in his difficult new life and we parted with a handshake.
The point I am trying to make is not my brief illuminating meeting with this Syrian, but that he thought me to be a Brit, and even recognized the accent – It is now more than fifty years since I left England.
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