6/18/85 - Girardot

Almost 8 PM. Read back my journal. My handwriting could sure use some improvement. This is kind of a hard book to write in. Oh well. Today was better than yesterday. Claudia's uncle, Alberto, is pretty fucking funny. We're driving into Melgar, and we hit a bunch of traffic. Anyway, this kid walks by and he's selling popsicles and shit. So, Albert asks:

"Hey, are those popsicles cold?"

"Bien frios," replied the little bastard.

"Oh, well forget it," he replies. "The cold makes our teeth hurt."

I don't think that kid knew what to think. We all laughed our asses off.

Hung out by the pool today. Swam, read, talked shit w/Hector and Teresa (the couple that owns this little casita we're staying in). Good people. The little kids don't know what to make of me, though. They're three and four. One asked Teresa, "Por que les gusta hablar con ese mono?" "Ese Mono" - "The Blond guy". Hilarious.

Alberto just brought me a beer. Really don't want it, but who am I to say no?

I have to lesson plan before I get back to Bogota, tomorrow. That kinda sucks. I have to admit, it's been pretty cool coming here this weekend. Started to feel a bit better about it after people started being a little friendlier. Figures, right?

I was thinking today. I got that "Warm Fuzzy" sheet back, where the other new teachers wrote something nice about me (we all had to do it). Really had some nice stuff on it. "Witty", "Funny", "Friendly", "Outgoing". Tatiana even said I was her favorite. I fall this is true - then why don't I feel that way about myself? It's almost liek they're talking about someone else, not me.

Never realized how cool that Concrete Blonde song, "Little Conversations" really was until after I wrote it down. Sounds good. Looks good too.

Feelin' pretty lonely right now.