For two years I worked in a school located high in the Sierra Nevada mountains of Andalusia.
Adjacent to the schoolhouse stood an old and diminutive stone building, with a classical Moorish courtyard and a small chapel, home to seven elderly nuns who had founded the school 50 years previously.
The grounds were encircled by an impenetrable ivy-covered wall, 25 feet tall.
I suppose the wall was designed to provide sanctuary, but I found it claustrophobic. I was always pleased at the end of the day when I left the grounds. The fresh mountain air was invigorating.
Of all unwelcome visitors in my class, including the nuns, insects were the worst. One day a wasp appeared through the window and refused to leave. Chaos ensued as my class screamed hysterically.
I attempted to continue with the class but it was impossible for the children to ignore the wasp. I elected to evacuate the classroom. The wasp won.
The kids loved it — we had our lesson on the playground. One of the kids went home and told their mother about the wasp and that instead of class, we'd had an extra long lunch. The mother failed to appreciate the dilemma I'd faced, called my boss and asked her how I could be trusted with 20 children when I couldn't even handle a single wasp.
Next week, same class, the wasp returned. Of course, it's impossible to say it was the same wasp but he had the same propensity for attention seeking. I'd had a bad morning, and this was a day when I was looking for something to hit. I rolled up my textbook and started swinging. The kids were screaming, baying for blood.
"I was the first Englishman to have lived in the village so I'd already acquired celebrity status, but this incident took the attention I received to stratospheric heights."
The wasp finally settled. I approached carefully, eyes locked on him. With a mighty sweep I attacked ... It's a blur in my mind, whether I made contact I don't know, but my follow-through smashed a window and shattered the pane of glass. The class went berserk.
I couldn't believe what I'd done. How had I failed to notice the window?
I poked my head out of the window and, you wouldn't believe it, two nuns were sat on a bench directly below in shock, picking glass out of their hair.
It was a farce but at that moment it