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Memories of Balak – II

I don’t know what kind of school anyone else went to, but at mine I didn’t have beautiful bikini-clad teachers coming to get us out of bed to do tests. And there were never classes in the communal bedroom. At Balak, we’d pile into one half of the longhouse bedroom, and close the window shutters. It would be fiercely hot, and we’d all crowd round on the floors, peering around mosquito nets at a projector screen while pictures of fish would be flashed up for us to recognize. Joe would play a guitar badly and shout things out randomly. Trudi would fall asleep and hope no-one noticed. Sarah would find an excuse to mention badgers. And our enthusiastic science staff would keep being cheerful and supportive, as we tried to become fish spotters. Dedication.

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