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276 pages, Paperback
First published May 14, 2012
Spending my teenage years in Zimbabwe had been good for a great many things. I had, for example, learned how to sew baby clothes on a hand-crank sewing machine, ride a horse, use a log table instead of a calculator, make bread from scratch, and locate a cattle dip tank on a topographical map. What I had not done was learn how to dance.I admit, because I am a hopeless unromantic, that I was less interested in the romance than in the wandering, in the setting up shop and adapting to the environment and then moving on to another apartment, another city, another country. I loved that they were able to court so unconventionally, and I also found the emails a little tedious after a while—not the emails themselves, but I guess those feeling-things-out stages are sometimes more interesting when you're in them. (Or maybe, as I said, I'm just wildly unromantic.)
(I had not learned any algebra either, but that wouldn't come back to haunt me for another year, until after we'd relocated back to the U.S.) (90)