My hands are soft. After working at a desk for about seven months, I know this. This fact was made all too evident to me while twisting wire around rebar in Guatemala. Sadly my hands did not respond and "man up" as they say. Instead they blistered and scraped and were made largely unhelpful. But do you know what the beautiful thing is about your hands and palms? Although they can take quite the beating and look disgusting, they heal incredibly fast. I'm talking Wolverine healing fast. I'm talking Michael Phelps recovering from a workout fast. Try that on for size!
This is V. She is fantastically wonderful in all ways. I worked with her last year when I traveled with my school to Guatemala, and guess what? She can't get enough of us apparently! She showed up again this year with her amazing trilingual skills and kick butt cement hauling skills. Believe me, you want to be friends with her. Just take it from me this time.
Token adorable small child picture? Yes please.
And, to finish it off, a little futbol after almuerzo never hurt anyone. Okay, that's a lie. H., a girl on my team, took an elbow to the nose during one bueno scrimmage. Let's just say that red isn't her best color. And let's just say that E. probably shouldn't play futbol with girls. He's not very gentle.
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