A daily blog note starts with some little trigger that I have seen or heard or done within the last 24 hours, then heads off to some generalisation or attempted witticism about the world. It is not often that trigger leads back to little old me.
Yesterday I met up with a few old friends from school. Which school? About two years is the most that I ever spent in any one. From east London to Essex to southern Africa to south London back to India to the north of England, I've experienced every different kind. And I got on ok at every single one. I was not bullied. I have no traumatic childhood experiences to relate. Yet when I refer to my school, there is only one that I mean.
Woodstock is a strange little community in the hills of northern India. Though only a tiny fraction of the size of any comprehensive in the West, it housed the most diverse group of kids from every corner of the globe. From children of christian missionaries to Indian expatriates to foreign diplomats to refugees to locals to those who just couldn't cope in the lowlands, we had every kind of freak that you can imagine.
And so it fit perfectly :)