little boys in suit pants and peacoats whose mothers pull them aside on the street to let me past and direct their ramblings directly at the tops of their little brown hair heads. today was full with anger and laughter, one and then the other, like hopscotch or double dutch. angry at uba, my tutor my teachers and myself, and everyone else who did pass the class, all the other estadounidenses except one whom i have been insulting all semester, and perhaps this is why we two did not achieve the goal, why we two must present. angry at myself for my anger, for not allowing the heart open. angry skyping with mom and dad, and the mysterious explosion of grin stretched across my face when i told nieves, i am so so angry, i said. enojado, enojada, qué importa? i said. then a great dinner with nieves and fani, thank goodness, oh goodness, i am grateful. then i showed them Philomela, and the clear and obvious unending face-stretching smile. then the friend whose name perhaps i’ll never learn came over, and we all laughed and laughed and laughed. you have a book! they said. we have to celebrate!