
On the other hand there are the tongues which don’t employ an immediately recognisable alphabet. Take Greek.
For Anglo novices Greek has three tiers. In the first, triangles and toasting forks predominate. In the second these visual obscurities are rendered anglo-phonetically (stolee katadheeres). In the third tier we emerge into the sunlit uplands of what we know (= wetsuit).
The linguistic links with English are often distant, as above. But occasionally they are childishly simple. Speak sandoeets out loud and its meaning becomes clear – sandwich. Tost is even closer. Other words throw out seductive hints. Ask for the bill and the word logariasmos resurrects all sorts of academic memories.
I have arrived at Greek far too late in life. I have a 2% chance of making myself understood in German, a 27% chance in France and a 41% chance in the USA. My English comes and goes. Greek must be regarded as a lost cause and this must be its last reference on this blog. For Greek is dangerous. If there’d been a fire on September 20 at the airport at Rhodes (Rodos, an easy one) on our journey home we really couldn’t have wasted time pondering the significance of ΕΞΟΔΟΣ when its English equivalent, EXIT, sounds close enough to Greek anyway.