While Hassan Mamari speaks, Arabic words pop out of his mouth. He can´t avoid it. He explains he has just said "welcome" in his mother tongue, even though he explains there are many other ways of saying so.
With watery eyes, he recalls how a ship brought him to Uruguay back in 1963, where his brother was waiting for him, and the way he managed to learn Spanish on his own. He was supposed to come here on vacations, but a military coup d´état prevented him from returning home.
Back then, he did not even imagine this was the country where he would spend the rest of his life. He started working in his uncle´s shop. One year later, he became a professor of Arabic Literature in the School of Humanities of the University of the Republic (UdelaR) and he is one of the men to welcome the first 40 refugees who are coming from Syria in September.
He feels Uruguayan. He wakes up and drinks mate and listens to Carlos Gardel, who reminds him of his origin. "Tango is sad, the main characteristic of Arabian poetry. Gardel is Arabian, he comes from Toulouse, where Arabian arrived," he says in a mocking tone.
