I met an Irishman in the street. He worked for the "Aisle" Institute (the what? Oh, OIL) where he taught English (or Irish) to Libyan oil men. He was earning £500 a month, a fortune in those days, and with his savings he was buying an apartment in Rome, another one in Ancona and a farmhouse in Ireland. He asked me in for lunch with his Italian wife and small children. She hated the Arabs, and said her children couldn't play with their children for fear of catching skin diseases.
"I can't say I care for them myself," said the Irishman. "They seem to regard all Westerners as exploiters. But it
...more
