Days of Sweating Sugar

Every morning we wake up to a big bowl of fruit, or a banana leaf steamed with corn meal and chicken. Often there are glasses full of colored juices so sweet they stick like syrup to my tongue. The amount of sugar in ever spoonful of food and drink has formed a neat little pillow around my belly, despite sweating at every moment of the day. Some how we find ourselves at the only embarrassingly touristy cafe in the whole town with free wifi for hours and hours. It's also the only vaguely comfortable place to sit for a time without being covered in our own sweat. The streets are quiet this week during the day and then they erupt in processions and drunkenness in the evening to celebrate Semana Santa. Somehow, even in the heat of the sun, men lay passed out on the sidewalk completely oblivious to people walking over them or taxis screaming by.
The week of Spanish school was well overdue and it's absloutely absurd they we waited until our final week to do it. But that's just how things turned out and it actually excites me to do it all over again. Maybe next year.
I keep thinking of being back in Boston; the delicious sandwiches i will eat, and my shiny red bike that is locked away in our storage unit.