Party People

This past week the clouds parted, the cold was chased away, and temperatures rose suddenly. A few over-eager Americans even busted out their shorts. I took a more tempered route, wary of a return to winter at any moment. But the temperatures have continued to rise nonetheless, leading me to wonder if this is truly the beginning of Spring.

This Spring promises good things: new friends, more work with Spanish, a class and preparation for what I refer to as the Spanish SATs. After school yesterday, I went to get a little something to eat with some of my favorite students. (We thoughtfully neglected to tell the other members of class, who coincidentally are the ones who gave me one or two negative marks on my evaluations. Curse your picky kind!) We had a really nice time, speaking Spanish since the students adamantly refuse to speak English outside of class time. I am secretly happy about this.

Spring promises good things, but you still gotta watch your back. Cathy's unintelligible Northern Irish Mum is visiting (did she say tea or bedspread?), and while walking in the center yesterday we were spotted by some skeezy gypsy women who tried to pickpocket us all. But POW!, I am an untrusting person. I pushed the woman over as she sidled up to me, her hands poised to reach into my pants pockets. But they were an insistent, dark-skinned lot. She then walked behind us and tried to point slyly at Cathy's Mum to her companions, signaling an easy target. I tell the ladies to hang onto their stuff, and we foil the Gypsy's plans. I turn around and glare. She raises her hands in mock confusion, as if to say "Who? Little ol' me?"

I am not fooled.
After every skirmish with their ilk, I think I become a little more racist.