"Hullo, Engelsman!"At least they know me, right? That was the greeting I got from the two lads who gave me a lift to the Frogfoot party, when they passed me at the Neelsie last night. They were flabbergasted that I couldn't praat die Taal, and kept saying things about me to see if I understood them - I don't think they really believed me.
Mental note: I need to learn to say "ekskees" instead of "oh awfully sorry old chap" or similar.
As I was walking into work today, carrying my cup of Irish Cream coffee (it's a flavour. It unfortunately is not laced with whiskey or anything), I passed a young Afrikaaner on his way to die Universiteit, and gave him the usual blank glance one gives to passers-by to see if one recognises them. As we drew level, he looked me clear in the eye, and intoned in a ringing voice, "Yes". Then he hurried on to his lecture.