Taxi

I took a taxi today to my college. The driver was in his late fifties, and at first we both kept quiet. But after a bit I decided that there's no point in having silence in a taxi; one should amuse the driver and it's a wonderful opportunity to learn something yourself.

So, rather out of the blue, I admit, I asked the chappie what he remembered from his elementary English teacher? This produced a very interesting answer. I learned the following.

My taxi driver had learned English in a religious elementary school in 1963. The teacher had a pronounced British accent and the children constantly mocked his accent and ridiculed it so much that he wasn't able to teach. One might think that in those days discipline would be stricter, but no - the school preferred them learning Gemorrah. Therefore, he never really learned English. The years went by, he finished his army obligation and went to South America. Within two months he had learned to speak Portuguese and even opened up a small shop there. Obviously a fellow with a talent for languages - he also knows Arabic. But not English...
Today he has a granddaughter who lives in Texas. She knows English. But she speaks to him in Hebrew when he doesn't know the words.

Finally he said to me: "now what made you ask this question?"