This past week has been great. Just great. At least for my homebody, sweatpant-loving self. Due to the fact classes are over yet our students aren't tested until Saturday the 11th, the past few days have been, well, Chilean.

Chilean in the sense that I live my life meal to meal. I get up around 9, 9:30 no alarm clock necessary. Meander into the kitchen, eat oatmeal, watch the morning "news" show blab about Michael Jackson -Mykl Yacksun-, and sip on Nescafé. After about 45 minutes of this, I slip my dished into the sink, go back to my room, pack up my stuff for the gym and head to the mall. I spend the next while at the gym. Of course, this being Chile, the gym is located directly above a delicious bakery and waves of fresh bread and empanadas mock me.

Side note: I never cease to be amazed by the 80s workout gear sported by most women. The best so far was a women with a magenta thong unitard, pink tights, fuschia leg warmers and white high top sneakers. And yes, she was taking the classed entitled, "Entertaining Dance," each participant with her own bejeweled cane. I just wish I had the guts to try it...

I catch the bus back home just in time for lunch. Again we watch the same footage over and over about Michael Jackson and I fend off questions such as, "Was he racist?" "Why did he want to change his skin color?" "How many operations did he have?" "Does he only have white hands and face?" I do not know the answer to the majority of these questions and this makes everyone frustrated. In the end, we all turn to the TV, letting the awkward moment pass. Finally, I say, "permiso," and excuse myself from the table.

I hang out in my room all afternoon passing the time reading, writing, organizing, grading, surfing the internet with frequent breaks for refills of tea or coffee. All of a sudden it's 7:30 and I hear the sound of plates and mugs being set out on the table. "Will there be palta (avacado) tonight?" I ask myself? "Hope so. I love when there's palta!"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Laly annouces, "a tomar once," and we all head to the kitchen, take our usual seats, fill our mugs from the thermos of hot water, pass various condiments around, topping bread to our liking. Oh, and lots of palta lately. :) The boys make jokes, laugh at the TV (yep, Michael is still there only this time they are saying he's still alive!), and complain about the fact they have to study. This lasts anywhere from a half hour to two hours, depending on the telenovela or the amount of "studying" the boys have to do. aka Playing Mario Kart. I usually sit and talk with my host mom for awhile. Then it's "permiso" and I head back to my room to hang out until it's time to fill the hot water bottle and cocoon up in my little bed. Somehow, I'm always tired. It's been a long day...