Final exams are only two weeks away, but I’m not feeling stressed at all. Of course, two weeks is a long time, especially for a special honors procrastinator, so maybe I’ll feel differently the afternoon of my Chinese exam (你好, 我的中文不好).
But as I’ve said, that’s ages away!
Today was a really wonderful day. I’m sat in my apartment, all alone, and I just cannot help grinning. I had no idea that the day would be so beautiful. My flowery language is completely necessary.
Two thirty this morning I fell asleep after writing a French composition dont je suis fière. Eight hours later I was sleepy and in Chinese class, but constructed grammatically correct sentences with surprising ease.
After Chinese, I dropped off my paper at the French department (because, joy of all joys! my class was canceled for the day) and ran into a friend with whom I had a nice, brief chat en français before running off to catch my bus to the preschool. I got there early and stopped across the street for a very tiny latte and some Chinese homework. But I was anxious to get into the classroom and I made it over just as the children were arriving.
I had a lovely time. The children are really warming up to me, and it feels so rewarding. I was very scared of going into the classroom for the first time just over three weeks ago, having never really interacted with children under the age of five (including when I, myself was less than five years old…just kidding!). But the children have all been very sweet, and always invite me to play with them. I had three and a half hours in the classroom, which gave me ample opportunity to spend time with nearly every child, and thinking of each interaction brings a big, big smile to my face. I sat on the floor while one girl styled my hair and one boy gave me medicine and shots to heal me of a mystery illness. Another held up a sheet of paper covered in her own constructions of the letter “k.” Two girls who, up until this point, had never spoken to me, grabbed my hands and whispered to me in English, though they almost exclusively speak Spanish. It was just a wonderful afternoon. Simple.
A quick bus ride home and a stop at Whole Foods, where I encountered a very generous burrito roller who gave me an extra dollop of guacamole. And with a few bucks left on a gift card, I dug around my backpack to pay the forty cent difference. And the burrito was as incredible a burrito as one can expect to find in this state.
And here’s a nice picture of the slice of la tarte aux pommes that I ate with a few French club friends, one rainy Sunday morning at Pike Place.