When David (not his real name) walked into the headquarters of the Belgian immigration department to apply for asylum, he looked at the other people in the queue and thought: “They don’t speak French, they had to flee their country, they have good reason for asking for protection.
I’m going to be laughed at.” The officials at the reception desk did not laugh, but they did give him “a weird look”, David says. “When they heard my accent and saw my dyed blond hair, they seemed to think: ‘What are you doing here?’”David recounts that day last year with a flawless Bruxellois accent.