he girls are giggly. They'll dread this news being broadcast to the eight people who occasionally look in this corner of the web, but it's true. They're here because they love sports and have big hearts and want to make an impact and all that wonderful stuff, but holy cow - giggling is some sort of conversational glue that binds their sentences together, and they have a vast, vast array of those.
The only defense is to invoke one's carefully crafted Power of the Wet Blanket in a two-phased counter-attack: Stony Silence and a pronounced Dash-Mouth. For the uninitiated, a dash-mouth is a potent and withering facial maneuver that has been known to stop stories about hair, clothes and/or boys within mere seconds. It begins at the top, with a glazing over of one's eyes while slightly narrowing them towards the attacker. From there we move to the mouth, where facial muscles on the left and right side pull away from each other, thus stretching the lips to a razor thin horizontal line, which resembles a hyphen, or "dash." Voila, the dash mouth (Also available in emoticon form: >:^| ).

Though our Dash-Fu is strong, the men are short on numbers, and our dash-mouthed defenses are often repelled through the "Dismissive Turning of the Head" tactic, which can be accomplished without so much as a scintilla of vocal interruption. Plus they hunt in packs.

Anyhow, this situation led to a long, convoluted search for the source of their unnaturally extended gifts of gab. It turned out to be Nutella, which is a chocolate flavored spreadable compound that can be used as grout in your bathroom, or as a way to dress up any other food surface that isn't already smeared with Nutella. It's also a likely candidate for outright prohibition; If I can't get cold medicine without an ID, surely this sweet, sweet destroyer of teeth and breath should be kept off the streets.

But you didn't come for the hard-hitting scientific research, did you? No, you wanted some photographic proof we're not sipping Mt. Dew Colladas on the beach or something. That whole "making an impact" thing. Well hold onto your tiny umbrella... We spent all of Tuesday covering the spectrum of sports and skill levels. Our time at the school started with volleyball, but in a nice surprise the kids came back in after class and hung out with us for a bit. We set up a soccer goal at one end of the gym, and had a little head-to-head opportunity between the students and the visiting Americanos. Yours truly played the goal for a bit, and was ably defended by two ISU soccer stars - Ruth & Alyssa. I found the key was to turn the shriek of pain coming out of my lower back into a manly grunt when diving for shots that got past my teammates. It was great fun, and a nice way to cap off v-ball. Afterwards we took a lengthy bus ride to a soccer & softball facility in the hills outside San Sebastian.
We practiced softball with some very young kids as well as a team which just yesterday ended up winning their... division? League? Their picture was in the paper today, and it was a big deal. We can't take the credit - they were frighteningly awesome already when we arrived, but they seemed eager to practice with us. We have lost some practice games, but we've got an unbroken string of people who seem happy to see us and happy to get some instruction in their sport.
We've yet to have a negative reaction, which in turn makes us all the friendlier and desirous of being on our best behavior... though I still trip people occasionally.

Next came Wednesday, and the group divided like math, with some heading to more volleyball and others going swimming with a local Junior National swim team. At least I believe they were. How's this - if they weren't then other countries better hang up their strap-on Jaws fin and get out of the pool. The people we saw came from some race of human/fish hybrids, and their two hour workout was really tiring to watch from the comfortable benches off to the side of the pool. Three of our girls, Amy, Amy and Molly, went swimming with the fishes. They didn't balk at the intensity of the workout, even though we arrived after the warm-up time. It was a mixed group of guys and girls who all seemed to enjoy the new competition.

We had some free time to check out a local WalMart-esque store, and picked up a few items - i.e. chocolate, razors and soap. I think some Fanta was purchased also, and we learned Bekah might have a new vocation.

On Thursday we had two things to do - volleyball in the afternoon, and an indescribably generous and unexpected meal in the evening.
Pictures of the former are processed, and of the latter are not. Of the former, I'll mention the day went very well. The clinics hum along smoothly, and I found myself again putting down the camera to join the party. Don't misunderstand - my crusty exterior only hides a crusty interior, but when you're around a bunch of smack-talking athletes 24/7, you sometimes want to get in there and show them how it was done back in the day. Me: "Hey Haley, do you know what's for lunch?" Haley: "No - stop talking and pay attention. What's for lunch?" Me: "The volleyball!" Spike! It sort of went like that, but I probably didn't deliver it that well, or actually spike the ball... and for that matter Haley's learned to ignore me, but you get the gist. I make sure they stay on their toes.

So that brings us up to Thursday evening, which I will taunt you and say there was an awesome meal, in a cool town, and it's easily been the trip's most memorable single experience, short of that whole Eureka moment with Nutella. But the dinner chat can wait for tomorrow, because it's 4am here again, and I'm ready for some z's.