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On Wednesday we went to Leon again. We = Whitney, Jen, Claudia, David. Claudia played "the game" and did reasonably well. We bought post cards to mail to friends and family, wrote them at Eskimo over cold drinks and ice cream, but learned the post office closes at 3pm and we probably won't get a chance to send them off at all. Whitney heard the familiar patter of tennis shoes behind her on the street and knew it was gringo running before we had a chance to turn around. If you haven't realized by now, it's this quality sort of astute observation that has kept us alive and on top this long. We attended Julio's English class again that night, and regailed the poor students with a 5-star performance about 2 babushkas and a pirate who stole a salt machine. I regret nothing.
Thursday was interesting. BECAUSE. There was a very significant earthquake (it was the first of several). Jen was doing laundry and thought the subway was arriving, Whitney thought a heavy set grandmother figure was shaking Casa de Paz with her unruly footsteps, and Claudia was probably feeding some dogs chicken bones somewhere. This particular earthquake was followed by two more earth quakes in the following days. Please evacuate our bodies to somewhere warm, but not hot, should we not make it back alive. Inform our families of our untimely deaths via truck/megaphone in incomprehensibly fast Spanish.
With Friday came earthquakes #2 and #3. We spent the morning poisoning the community of Paraiso, Chacraseca with organophosphates and covering ourselves in dirt. Poor planning placed us in Leon around 2:30pm, where we made a mad dash for the hospital. All the staff and patients were outside because of the earthquake, so our rugged, filthy appearance went largely unnoticed. We met the hospital directors and toured the emergency room. Afterwards we showered, then prepared ourselves both emotionally and grammatically for a night of debauchery. We met up with Julio before hand and gorged ourselves on local chicken and rice at Pelibuey, after which we made our way to Azquetal. The night began with Total Eclipse of the Heart, a duet sung by Jen and David, and then Don't Stop Believin' by the most obnoxious group of medical students in all of Leon. This naturally set the bar for performance art that night (NAILED IT) and the locals tried their best to match us both in passion and shamelessness. We danced to incredible 80's music and were ushered along a river of emotional turmoil by currents of heart-wrenching music videos with violent plotlines and mysterious angles. We bid Dr. Somarriba and her matching husband farewell, then refused to leave the establishment until the DJ played Piano Man. The locals appeared bored with us, but a marked stench of jealousy lingered in the air.
On Saturday, we took Claudia to the beach. She had been begging us all week, and though we were tired because of our work schedules, we decided that she deserved a little bit of weekend fun. We put in her in her seat on the bus, bought her some juice, and made our way to the sandy shores of Poneloya. Once there, we rented our cabana and watched as she swam in the ocean and did handstands on the beach. She didn't want to leave (they never do), but we finally dragged her back toward the bus. She fell asleep on the ride home and were pleased that our day at the beach had pushed her to the point of exhaustion. She fell asleep early that night, and we enjoyed some quiet conversation.
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