So, following on polio, a little more about diseases crossing borders.

As a kid, I went to a girls’ convent school outside London. (Blazer, boater, motto, crest. Elocution and deportment. Embroidery classes.) There were about three Americans that I remember, and a few South Asians living in the UK, and some girls whose parents were British but living abroad. One of the regular features of the return to term was an interrogation by the headmistress: Had anyone had any illness in their family over the holidays? One New Year, not knowing any better, I put up my hand. Why, yes, I said innocently; my brothers had had measles.

Fingers drummed. Jaws locked. I was whisked to the headmistress’s study. My mother was summoned. She protested that I had been vaccinated. The headmistress was unmoved. I was barred from school for the presumed incubation period. My mother was not pleased. (“You should have lied,” she hissed once we got home.)

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