Javier has returned!
Halfway through the second week that saw him missing in action, we were enlightened as to the happy reason for his prolonged stay in Spain.
His wife was expecting a baby and it went slightly overdue, eventually arriving a week later than expected.
Unfortunately, this development means we are stuck in the short-straw Spanish class for the rest of this semester at least.
Given Javier was missing for a whole fortnight, I am expecting a bit more than his usual, '¡Hola! ¿Qué Tal?' greeting when he walks in the room, but that's exactly what we get.
'Strange,' I think, but I'm not deterred.
'¡Felicidades!' I volunteer with a grin.
In light of his good news, all is forgiven as far as I'm concerned and I am genuinely pleased for him.
He looks at me briefly, but his expression doesn't change (he has a permanent half-smile) and I am convinced he has chosen to completely ignore my congratulatory salutation.
This is confirmed when he immediately addresses the class in Spanish and asks us to open our text books at page 46.
That shut me up!
I wonder if perhaps he didn't hear me.
But the answer to that deliberation lies definitively in the 'me' part.
I'm always audible.
So that's not a possible excuse.
Not only does he blatantly decide to keep his private life, well, private.
But he doesn't even offer an apology or at least some explanation for his absence to this group of abandoned, neglected, disillusioned students.
I'm tempted to impress him with my linguistic progress by calling him a ¡hijo de puta! but we haven't learned that expression yet.
It's not exactly on the curriculum.
©Alacoque Doyle
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