The English teacher abroad is a generally peripatetic animal. He moves somewhere for a year or two and then gets bored, runs out of money or fathers an illegitimate child before moving along. Meet him and he has a thousand stories about Mexican border guards, Thai prostitutes and Russian oligarchs. Enjoy the conversation. He won’t be there for long.
The good Japanese schools didn’t want a random English kid with no experience
Not me, though. This weekend marks ten years since I moved to Tarnowskie Góry in Poland. Tarnowskie Góry is an hour from Katowice, in Upper Silesia. It’s a charming town of about 60,000 people, built round a historic silver mine and ringed by forests. The centre, with its time-worn churches and its bustling coffee bars, is surrounded by enormous housing estates. One of them was called Manhattan, because of its tower blocks, and one was inexplicably nicknamed Ohio. The latter name stuck, perhaps because it is so odd.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in