A few years ago I went to visit my brother who was stationed
in Germany. I assumed that enough Germans would speak English
so that I could at least get around. But I found that many
people spoke only their native tongue - including the ticket
inspector on the train. He punched my ticket, then chatted
cordially for a bit, making gestures like a windmill. I just
nodded from time to time to show him that I was interested.
When he had gone, an American woman soldier in the compartment
leaned forward and asked if I spoke German.
“No,” I confessed.
“Then that explains,” she said, “why you didn’t bat an eyelid
when he told you that you were on the wrong train.”
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