Happy Birthday, America!

Yesterday, while all of you were going to picnics and bbqs, parades, fireworks, and watching a tripleheader on ESPN, I was doing my usual routine of waking up at the butt crack of dawn and teaching 7 classes spread out over 14 hours, which would have been a much better day if my 8pm and final class had grasped the concept of the past perfect progressive tense a little better than they did. (It's really not that bad. I get TWO days off at the end of the month to celebrate Peruvian independence.)

The teachers of Maximo organized a North American Independence Day BBQ, since Canada Day was on Tuesday. (Our teaching staff is made up of half Americans, slightly less than half British, and two Canadians and an Australian for good measure.) For some reason, not many of the British teachers came. They didn't seem to like our jokes about throwing them down the well or tarring and feathering. You know, after 300 years, they still don't have a sense of humor about that.

Anyway, we (and by "we" I mean American Rob and the Australian) grilled up every kind of meat. It was like paradise. I ate a burger AND some pork. The plan was to have fireworks, but the only thing anyone could find was the firecrackers you light and throw, only the Peruvian versions have a wick so short you have to get rid of it awfully fast- which is why I let other people do the igniting. I like all my fingers, even if some of them can be described as "bulbous."

Happy 4th of July, everyone.