I open my eyes after an awfully short night,a dream still fresh in my spanish filled noggin-my teacher waving around the "Barons" book of Spanish verbs in front of my face and in a mocking voice tells me I have 1 day to learn the conjugations of all 501 verbs or else she'l feed me to her pet chihuahua as a midnight snack.
Rather scared I ask my dad to check under my bed for a carnivorous chihuahua. Clearly confused he obliges...nothing. I quickly jump of my bed and charge out of my room, still in my underwear, to get a machete that Miguel keeps in the kitchen before the chihuahua can leap out of a different hiding spot.
Miguel looks at me with blood shot eyes and mutters under his nose-"Niño raro..". Taking this as a complement for my agility I nod and quickly and thank him, he raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side drilling into my eyes with a calculating look.
Back in my room I slowly spin around, poised to strike at the slightest movement. It takes my dad ten minuets to convince me there's no miniature killer dog on the loose.
Greatly relieved I jog a victory lap around the house, eat breakfast and run off to the school feeling on-top of the world.
At the school I sit down at a table with my teacher, a smile stretched across my face like a railway and still growing. The smile quickly melts and drips off my face as she slams the "Barons" book of verbs on the table, and tells me today all I'm doing is learning irregular verbs. My head quickly spins on it's axis as I scan for a small, snarling four legged creature. My teacher snaps at me in Spanish, telling me to get to work.
Half an hour later I'm very bored and greatly exhausted. I resort to humming "Over the Rainbow" in my head while moving my head from side to side in the book to keep up the image of a good, hardworking student.
At the end of class my teacher decides to test me. Thoroughly screwed over I pretend to be sick and run of to the washroom making fake gagging noises. I make sure to emerge out of the washroom only when the class is over.
After lunch my dad and I meet back at the school with a group of students to go to a coffee farm. We manage to squeeze twenty people in one 9 place van, I have two people squashing me to the seat, they are completely and totally ignoring my squeaks and wriggles of protest as they jabber on in furious German and consume gummy bears by the handful.
Finally at the coffee farm we pile out of the van. I am now positively a pancake. I might as well have been put through a toffee stretcher.
We continue down a beaten gravel road. My dad and I have a very heated and hysterical debate as to wether the tree with the green or red berries is the coffee tree. We are given a lecture by the tour guide to stop acting like third grade headless chickens in a boiling pot of water....oh and turns out it was the same tree, just one was ripe the other wasn't.
After a severe disappointment we started our tour of the farm, half way through our guide explaining the origin of the coffee tree it started raining. At first lightly but gradually it became harder and harder, soon enough the ground was shaking and people were getting squashed by humungous rain drops while praying to the Mayan Gods. Who was left with the living, crowded into a storm shelter. Huddled in the shelter an evil grin spreads across my dads face, he snatches my umbrella from me and cackling pushes me into the rain snapping photos of me as I cower under my hands from the wrath of the Gods.
Ten minuets later I'm standing in the gift shop soaked through to my super holy soul hanging on for dear life to a cup of very delicious steaming coffee, reading how in the 14th century they only had beer and bread and that coffee saved Europe from certain brain damage. For lunch they had soup made from beer and bread. Moaning my dad smacks his slobbery lips together and stumbles around the room already drunk, wanting to save my dad I distract him by hatching a plan to acquire coffee tree seeds to plant at home.
I walk up to the guard and start speaking to him in very fast Russian hoping to distract him as my dad sneaks some seeds into his pockets. After thirty seconds the guard tells me to go piss on someone else's parade in perfect Russian and turns away from me. That's when he notices my dad. Enraged he raises his AK-47, floors the trigger and let's of a river of Russian swearing to the noise of the AK.
To avoid the bullets I roll and jump all over the place like a true ninja. I only succeed in falling out the third story window and landing in a pile of fermented cow dung. Lifting my my face I see my dad charging of into the distance, coffee seeds raised in triumph screaming-"I escaped Aushwitz. Oi! Oi! Oi!" over and over again. Still very cold I do jumping jacks to warm up and go home.
Upon arriving back to our room I discover my dad sitting on the ceiling and examining the coffee seeds through a magnifying glass quietly chuckling to him self. I rush of to the doctor to get checked out. There I pass out from shock.
Rather scared I ask my dad to check under my bed for a carnivorous chihuahua. Clearly confused he obliges...nothing. I quickly jump of my bed and charge out of my room, still in my underwear, to get a machete that Miguel keeps in the kitchen before the chihuahua can leap out of a different hiding spot.
Miguel looks at me with blood shot eyes and mutters under his nose-"Niño raro..". Taking this as a complement for my agility I nod and quickly and thank him, he raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side drilling into my eyes with a calculating look.
Back in my room I slowly spin around, poised to strike at the slightest movement. It takes my dad ten minuets to convince me there's no miniature killer dog on the loose.
Greatly relieved I jog a victory lap around the house, eat breakfast and run off to the school feeling on-top of the world.
At the school I sit down at a table with my teacher, a smile stretched across my face like a railway and still growing. The smile quickly melts and drips off my face as she slams the "Barons" book of verbs on the table, and tells me today all I'm doing is learning irregular verbs. My head quickly spins on it's axis as I scan for a small, snarling four legged creature. My teacher snaps at me in Spanish, telling me to get to work.
Half an hour later I'm very bored and greatly exhausted. I resort to humming "Over the Rainbow" in my head while moving my head from side to side in the book to keep up the image of a good, hardworking student.
At the end of class my teacher decides to test me. Thoroughly screwed over I pretend to be sick and run of to the washroom making fake gagging noises. I make sure to emerge out of the washroom only when the class is over.
After lunch my dad and I meet back at the school with a group of students to go to a coffee farm. We manage to squeeze twenty people in one 9 place van, I have two people squashing me to the seat, they are completely and totally ignoring my squeaks and wriggles of protest as they jabber on in furious German and consume gummy bears by the handful.
Finally at the coffee farm we pile out of the van. I am now positively a pancake. I might as well have been put through a toffee stretcher.
We continue down a beaten gravel road. My dad and I have a very heated and hysterical debate as to wether the tree with the green or red berries is the coffee tree. We are given a lecture by the tour guide to stop acting like third grade headless chickens in a boiling pot of water....oh and turns out it was the same tree, just one was ripe the other wasn't.
After a severe disappointment we started our tour of the farm, half way through our guide explaining the origin of the coffee tree it started raining. At first lightly but gradually it became harder and harder, soon enough the ground was shaking and people were getting squashed by humungous rain drops while praying to the Mayan Gods. Who was left with the living, crowded into a storm shelter. Huddled in the shelter an evil grin spreads across my dads face, he snatches my umbrella from me and cackling pushes me into the rain snapping photos of me as I cower under my hands from the wrath of the Gods.
Ten minuets later I'm standing in the gift shop soaked through to my super holy soul hanging on for dear life to a cup of very delicious steaming coffee, reading how in the 14th century they only had beer and bread and that coffee saved Europe from certain brain damage. For lunch they had soup made from beer and bread. Moaning my dad smacks his slobbery lips together and stumbles around the room already drunk, wanting to save my dad I distract him by hatching a plan to acquire coffee tree seeds to plant at home.
I walk up to the guard and start speaking to him in very fast Russian hoping to distract him as my dad sneaks some seeds into his pockets. After thirty seconds the guard tells me to go piss on someone else's parade in perfect Russian and turns away from me. That's when he notices my dad. Enraged he raises his AK-47, floors the trigger and let's of a river of Russian swearing to the noise of the AK.
To avoid the bullets I roll and jump all over the place like a true ninja. I only succeed in falling out the third story window and landing in a pile of fermented cow dung. Lifting my my face I see my dad charging of into the distance, coffee seeds raised in triumph screaming-"I escaped Aushwitz. Oi! Oi! Oi!" over and over again. Still very cold I do jumping jacks to warm up and go home.
Upon arriving back to our room I discover my dad sitting on the ceiling and examining the coffee seeds through a magnifying glass quietly chuckling to him self. I rush of to the doctor to get checked out. There I pass out from shock.