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Parents : "Tremayne, you cannot hide in this casa cave for the next 9 months." Tremayne : "I can't speak Spanish, I don't want to be here." Parents : "Tremayne, you're eating all the pan again. Either eat with the rest of us in the comedor or go get your own bread." Days pass... Tremayne : "I think I'll walk to the mercado and get some pan." He returns, the mercado is closed during siesta. He tries again after 4 o'clock... This is the story: Right before Tremayne gets to the mercado, a boy slightly older than him, straight dark hair, red shirt under a grey zippered sweatshirt, approaches him. He gets up close to Tremayne and asks something in Spanish. Tremayne answers "No hablo espanol" and then feels something sharp on his arm. He runs into the mercado where he notices he has been cut, gathers his wits, and buys his one kilo of pan. Hoping his assailant has gone, he hurries home. We approach Tremayne and ask him what is wrong. He says someone slashed him with a knife. There is a flesh wound and a tear in his sweatshirt. Peter calls the police and we spend the next hour driving around town, talking to neighbors and asking Tremayne, is that him, is that him? We find the police, take Tremayne to the doctor's office and then follow the police to a suspect. The terrified boy is standing on the side of the road but Tremayne says he is not the one. We then go home while the police continue the search. Later, we get called down to the police station. The police office is the size of our sauna and they peck out a report on the typewriter La Lucena gave to them a few years ago. It reminds Tremayne of the Andy Griffith Show. We show our passports but it takes a bit of convincing to establish that the long-haired "chica" in the passport picture is the same as the "chico" sitting in front of them. During this time, a TV is flickering behind a half wall and a radio is blaring Scooooooooooooooooooooooooooore!, Scoooooooooooooooooooooore! drowning out the officer's questions. Peter asks if the radio can be turned off and the one female officer says the Boca soccer club just scored, as she turns the radio down. The sincere officers, the entire three person force, say they will keep looking for the person and that this has never happened before... To end the evening, we catch a late dinner at the La Lucena dining hall. David has to do the Donald Duck voice competition between himself and a student that he promised earlier in the day; he wins easily. The girls are enamored with Tremayne, whom they hadn't seen yet this week. The boys ask if there is also an hija hiding in our house for them. Cameras flash like we are movie stars. We slink back to the casa cave after the most surreal day yet in Argentina.
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The visiting Dover School provided us more intensive learning and living at La Lucena. These 12 year olds were less aloof than last week's older teens and they brought incredible excitement and a smothering amount of hugs and kisses. Colby figured out how he could be of most help in the various classes, earning himself an honorary role on the La Lucena staff. He also earned a lot of attention for the little string bracelets he weaves for fun in his spare time. A group of chicos started trying to learn his method and at the weekly La Lucena gift shop (a little collection of local crafts and baked treats) he sold all 10 pulseras he had made and had at least ten chicas begging him to make them one more. He stayed up most of the last night filling orders, even selling the one off his wrist. His entrepreneurial spirit is flourishing here. 
 
Another week of teaching and playing with the students found us back at the San Miguel river for a picnic and boat races.
The peak of the week was the Viviana Jones alligator crossing challenge. All 35 students plus Tremayne (after his excitement in town he had decided to rejoin the activities) had three tires and three pieces of wood to use to cross an imaginary alligator pit. Without touching the ground, they had to get everyone and everything from one side of the pit to the other in 25 minutes. The group began - thinking individually, being bossy and yelling - and half way through several students, seeing that this was wrong and not going to get the whole group over in time, stepped off their tires and into the swamp to bring the whole group back to the beginning to start over. They argued and yelled and then Mike, the teacher for this event, gave them two minutes to plan and they began again, with half the time remaining. After incredible helping, organizing and teamwork, they all made it across with seconds to spare. They exploded into singing and chanting as if Argentina just won the World Cup. If only nations could transform the way this group did. We need to put Bush and all the other global leaders into the alligator pit with 25 minutes and see what problems can be solved! INTENSE!!! 
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We needn't have worried we would be lonely for pets in our new home. The Argentine perros are as diverse as the Argentine people. They seem hardy and independent, not at all mangy and mean, and four of them claim La Lucena as home. Pukey is an old black spaniel-type, limping around on twisted legs from numerous encounters with cars and horses. He will follow along on even the longest hikes, panting and sounding like he is going to have a heart attack at any moment, but always making it back home to his indoor bed and ibuprofin. Bonzo is a lovable white lab who actually lives down the road at Peter's mother's house but who finds it much more interesting here at La Lucena. Tuyo is a long legged collie type, always smiling and looking for some leftovers or a cool place to rest. And Lupe is an insecure little mutt who cowers and whines whenever you try to pet her.
All the perros at La Lucena and in town put a dent in the local wildlife population but they are a fact of life here. Any walk down the road leads to a chorus of barks and howls as you pass each house, and of course there are nighttime serenades as well. We found it quite ingenious how people have solved the dogs-in-the-garbage problem with their trash bins on poles. 
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