Daft Old Duffer returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Because I joined the Merchant Navy in the mid-fifties of last century, I spent a handful of years wandering about the Middle and Far East. At a time when memories of ‘White Imperialism’ were still raw.
I, and my shipmates were frequently astonished therefore by the obvious goodwill of the local folk. Of course there were blotches of dangerous resentment against ‘Whitey’ – a grim resolve that he must never be allowed to boss over them ever again. But in the main people were plainly kindly disposed towards us.
Protected from thugs
I recall the bar owner in French Indo-Chine (Vietnam as is) who advised us to go back to our ship as there were youths wandering the streets looking for white men to beat up.
The taxi driver in Alexandria who point blank refused to take us to the bar we had heard about because, as he said, it was in a part of town where it was not wise for a European to go at night. “Allow me to take you to a nice bar where there’s no trouble sirs,” he said.
And the family, out for an evening stroll in Hong Kong, who stopped us to advise that further along was a gang of kids who had drunk too much and were looking for trouble.
Rare moments of hostility
In fact the only time I have experienced personal hostility was once in France and once in Belgium. Where I think we were mistaken for Germans.
And once in Beirut when a bunch of lads waved their fists and shouted at us as we strolled the main drag one afternoon. Otherwise, nothing but kindness.
The extreme few are just that, few
I can’t explain this universal friendliness, except by saying that folk everywhere are basically nice.
And that when we read of Indian men exploiting young girls, and Africans gang-warring with guns, and young Muslims dreaming of entering Paradise via haversacks full of fertiliser, we should always bear in mind these are the acts of the extremist few.
Image: Binder Bonedat under CC BY 2.0
