After university I became a social worker and then a saleswoman. I seemed to have broken the pattern, but all the time a classroom was waiting for me.I became a teacher under bizarre circumstances, but in retrospect it was one of my better career moves. I was 25 and had been living for a year in Botswana with my geologist husband.Botswana in the late 1970s was remote and undeveloped.
There was just one tarred road, running between the capital and our little town, and most of the rest of that vast country was interlaced by dirt roads and rough tracks. There was little water, but gold and diamonds glittered underground, a promise of wealth to come. Our town had a large secondary school, and pupils came from distant settlements to board. As the year began, a new English teacher was expected from India. He seemed to have got lost on the way. Would I look after his classes for a fortnight?He never did show up. I settled down to teach two first-year classes with students ages 12 to 15, whose knowledge of English was basic, and a fourth-year literature class studying George Eliot and Shakespeare for international exams.
