¡Tú hablas mal!

For the past few weeks, I've been working in the 3-year-old class at the daycare. I LOVE THEM. Though they get into much more trouble, I have to admit they're a bit more exciting than the 5-month-olds. The most rewarding thing I've experienced throughout my semester here has been successfully carrying on conversations with the kids, and understanding them well enough to tend to their needs. It's safe to say I've learned more at the daycare in the past few weeks than I have in my classes all semester.

My favorite (not that I have a favorite or anything) is a boy named Fernando. He has curly, dirty-blond hair and carries around this old blue stuffed dog that's missing an eye. He smiles at everything, he's super ticklish, and he often climbs all over me or throws himself in my lap without warning. When he's explaining something or telling a story, he is quite expressive and dramatic, utilizing swooping hand gestures, facial expressions, pauses for effect, and drastic variations in the intonation of his words. And today I discovered another charming attribute of his: honesty. He cut me off and said "¡Tú hablas mal!" ("You talk bad!"). Thanks for the confidence boost, buddy.

Excitement has been building in Sevilla all week with preparations for Semana Santa. The marching bands are practicing in the streets for the parades, parts of streets are being blocked off, and best of all, my host mom has introduced my roommates and I to an Easter specialty so heavenly you'd swear Jesus made it himself: torrijas.

How do I begin to describe these? They're slices of bread cooked and fried and soaked in all kinds of stuff- milk, sugar, cinnamon, eggs, honey, and white wine. I guess you could say they're the Spanish version of french toast, but they're served chilled and they have sort of a custard-y taste and a denser consistency. If I come back to the US weighing twice as much as when I left, it will be entirely the fault of las torrijas. I'm not sure if they look quite as appetizing as they sound, so trust my words over their appearance:

More roommates have been moving in and out of the apartment, as usual. The two Italian girls, Sara and Fabiola, left Sunday morning and later that night we got a new girl from Germany, Alex, who is staying until the end of next week. Living with people from other countries and learning about our cultural differences has been pretty fascinating to me. We've spent hours after dinner discussing differences in daily routines, media, school systems, food, holidays, and stereotypes.

Fabiola, Sara, and myself in Parque de los Principes on their last day here

 I would love to elaborate on the previous paragraph, but I have to be at the airport in a few hours and I still have to finish packing and print my boarding pass. That's right, I'm going to London until Monday.

¡Hasta luegoooo!

Mullet count: 23