The Scarlet Letter: Part three in an occasional series of observations on Spanish public schools

The letter went out last week.

You know, the letter to the parents.

I proofread the English translations so that all the parents would be informed, even those who don't speak Spanish.

It's important news. Critical, really, to the functioning of the school.

Scary head lice man! (Artist's rendering)

It's lice!!!

Public elementary schools, with all the kids crowded in groups of thirty and hanging their coats side by side at the back of the room and wrestling on the patio during recess and whispering secrets with their heads really close to your ear provide an optimal breeding ground for head lice to thrive, like Boulder, Colorado is for hippies. Or Portland, Oregon is for hipsters.

When I first found out, my reaction was threefold.

1. How do you say lice in Spanish? (It's piojo.)
2. Maybe I could teach the kids that lice has an irregular plural form. As in one louse, two lice. Or one foot, two feet. Or one cactus, two cacti. That idea was scratched (get it! haha).

Lastly, and most importantly:
3. Where are they? Because they better not be in the classes I'm in.

The usual suspects. But look how cute they are!

I casually began to ask questions and observe attendance levels in the classrooms. Rumors are everywhere. I don't want to be hasty in branding any class or student in particular with a scarlet letter, but I refuse to get lice.

I never had lice as a child and I'm not breaking my record now. The idea of a 23-year-old going to the pharmacy to get lice shampoo would indicate either that I'm dirty or I'm the teen mother of a child who is dirty, as I look to young to be a teacher. Additionally, I always go to the same pharmacy, for everything. They recognize me. I'm not going in there for lice shampoo.

Luckily, it was determined that the lice were probably in the 3rd year classes, though I'm suspicious because there were quite a few 1st years missing last week. I spent the week keeping my distance as best I could from the kids and their hair. So far I've made it lice free, but another bug did get me.

The Spanish Influenza!!

Well, not actually the flu, just a cold and sore throat that I blame on a combination of changing temperatures and working in an elementary school, a bigger haven for germs than Torremolinos is for gay people. (It's fun making comparisons! Try it out below in the comments section if you so desire!)

I've been recuperating at home for a few days, and missed two days of work. The reason being is that the most common cold medicine is a beast called Frenadol.

The entire family of Frenadol products.

Frenadol is a powder you mix with water to create a pale-orange concoction that you take like a shot of tequila, because of how bitter and acidic it is. It's hard to decide if it's better to be sick or to take Frenedol. It leaves me sleepy, hazy, and unable to focus on anything. Sometimes when I walk it feels like I'm floating. Therefore, when I woke up this morning and took a Frenadol, I knew I wouldn't make it to work today. So here I am, updating my blog in a Frenedol-induced drugged state, as drugged as Hunter S. Thomson was when he wrote Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas!

....sorry about that, that was a stretch. It's the Frenedol talking. I promise a better entry soon.