I said brrrrrr...

...it's cold in here! Damn this reverse-seasons malarkey - the house is f-f-frrrrozen and one ropey old gas heater between four is not exactly suficiente. El Schmoof is ready to go into hibernation mode, armed only with a stripey-jumpered hot water bottle and a limitless supply of tea.

The pace has certainly picked up at the not-so-British institute. The week before last I was finally given some kind of proper schedule, albeit one which involved running around from class to class with half-hour slots, frequently consisting of students of all ages asking me why the hell I had actually chosen to come to Cheelay and whether I liked it or not. Naturally, I didn't reveal that my first choice had been Argentina - perish the thought - and responded by gushing praise on all things chileno. How very sincere of me.

I've also taught three lessons in the past fortnight - something of a mixed blessing - as it seems to be teacher-get-sick season, and I seem to be Mr. Rent-a-Subsitute all of a sudden. The first arrived with a mere fifteen minutes notice and, given that it was a Regular 1 class i.e. total beginners, I was more than a wee bit panicked. I managed to pull it off though, and even though the students may not have understood every single instruction, I was pretty proud of meself for not totally messing it up. The second, an advanced conversation session, was enjoyable, even though the group included both a snobby intellectual and a smelly mentalist. The third was the killer though - a 3-hour Saturday morning endurance test with eight over-excitable young learners. "Complete and utter nightmare" doesn't begin to do it justice...

You know how the saying goes: work hard, play harder. Well, that's more-or-less it - one of my housemates went as far to say that he only ever seemed to see me in the kitchen with a hangover. It's surprisingly easy for a few innocent "piscolas" to turn into an epic night, especially when you've got some bad influences around *ahem*. Last weekend was not quite so spontaneous, however; for a while, us British Council language assistant types have complained of a lack of good hip hop clubs in Santiago, so we decided to have an originally-named "Bling Bling" party to remedy this drought. There were some truly blinding outfits, mucho dancing with attitude and just a few crrrunk moments to top it all off. Did I mind being surrounded by a posse of foxy laydees? I'll leave that to you to decide.