The Kirwan Twins Adventures We've finally graduated, so we're setting off for three months to backpack around India, Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand before entering the "real world."

On Thursday evening Michelle and I were preparing our bags for our Friday excursion to Papallacta, a thermal spring oasis.  Bathing suit, sweatshirt, shampoo, socks, underwear, etc.  In this particular vocabulary lesson, I learned the difference between socks and underwear.  Socks are medias or calcetines, and calzon is underwear (or as directly translated in The American Heritage Spanish Dictionary, "panties").  Now I thought Michelle must have gotten these words a bit mixed up in her packing list, so I asked her to confirm them once again.  Yes, calzon was indeed underwear and medias socks.  

I rolled my eyes, at myself, acknowledging that somewhere in the dusty corners of my memory bank I had confused these two words.  It also occurred to me that, if I had been aware of my mistake, this occasion would have called for a very rosy face.  It took me about thirty minutes of brooding before, doh!, I remembered…I gave myself a deserved slap on the cheek and proceeded to relate my story to Martha and Michelle.

During the incident at Mt. Carihuayrazo (see entry "Mischief on the Mountain"), a pair of my hiking socks had been left in Steve's car among other belongings.  When Steve finally returned to Quito, our motley crew of hikers met him at the World Neighbors office where we were gathered for a work meeting (and of course to retrieve our clothes, wallets, cell phones, and other convenient property).  All of my posessions were present except for a pair of socks.  I began to inquire, quite liberally, whether Antonio or Vicente had my calzones.  They seemed confused, but I continued to insist; "por favor, no puedo encontrar un par de mis calzones, las tienes?"  Are you sure you didn't put them in your bag?  Despite my pleas, the office didn't seem phased that I was on a determined hunt for a pair of panties, nor that I was accusing people of having stuffed them in their packs.  At a loss, I finally pointed to my socks, making absolutely sure that they hadn't accidentally stowed them with their belongings.  "Ahhhhh," said Antonio.  Ah yes, now we are getting somewhere.  "Mira en mi mochila, creo que están."  Gingerly, I peer into his pack, and by golly he's got them!

Now, I am aware that some boys are a bit shy of partaking in open panty conversation, not to mention at work, but on occasion, it would be nice to speak up and help the new girl at the office (what's more a gringita) get her vocabulary bearings.

Martha and Michelle are still talking about this…