"Twice per week for two hours for advanced speakers." It sounded like the perfect opportunity to boost my language skills and meet more people in the expat community.
The class regulars: a disgruntled British computer programmer, two Germans who cannot pronounce the letter "v", and me. The one girl I met at orientation who seemed like she could be a friend is in the intermediate group--which might as well be Siberia.
The professor is good, if a bit exasperated by my taciturn classmates. They aren't such a fan of speaking the language--yet. The teacher might have been aiming a bit too high last class when she tried to start a debate about whether love can exist without jealousy. Tonight we just had to state our opinions regarding fast food.
Miss Bee, on the other hand, is less than pleased about the change in her evening routine. I try to leave for class; much guilt-inducing drama ensues. She wants her mama, then I want my baby. . .it's a good thing this class is only two months long.
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