El Hulk Blanco.

The White Hulk. For you, dear readers, who can’t easily comprehend basic spanish, so basic in fact that one third of those words are in English. No actually called me that. It was more a name that I was trying to get to gain traction. The Hulk though. The Hulk, I was called. Okay, okay, maybe there wasn’t a The in front of it but the point was made. Hulk. Hunk. Hank. All words that describe me to a T. A T followed by an He and then Hulk. Get it? The Hulk. My humor is sophisticated, I understand if everyone can’t keep up. There’s been a new thing during this volunteering where now I’m working with more older kids than younger. It’s pretty nice. Especially because I’ve been with the younger children for so long that it’s nice to have a change of pace and even nicer to get out of the classroom while doing so. The only drawback is that my skin is noticeably different colors depending on how often you lift up my shirt but that’s not the point either. For one, farmer’s tans are in right now. For two, I’m a freaking super hero. The benefit of working with older kids that aren’t well too much older is twofold. That they’re small enough where I can still give them rides on my shoulders and that I’m big enough where I can excel at sports compared to their puny frames. I’ve probably mentioned the sport excelling before. Of course I have because it never gets old. I was a goalie in handball today and I spiked away an incoming shot so hard that it sailed past the entire length of the court. When it was over, children complained that I was too big. I was so good that I annoyed tween children. Know who loved me though? My team mates. We shut the other team out. Of course did. I wasn’t going to allow a pipsqueak to score on me. I have pride. One student who doesn’t have nearly the amount of pride as me? Larry. Classic ol’ Larry. I imagine every classroom has a Larry. Probably more than one. The Larry archetype just stands out a bit more when you’re forced to do physical activity for two or three hours at a time. Larry is what you think about when you think of a person named Larry. A loner, a person who refuses to participate, a boy who always wears a hoodie when it’s ninety degrees out and pines after the girl who always wears a coat in the same heat. A boy that sure doesn’t like when the teacher puts her arm around him, a boy that sure doesn’t like being forced to interact with the other students, a boy that is somehow named Larry in an area where other children are named Jorel and Tanisha. And those are the easy to spell examples! The other ones I could think of were so difficult I didn’t even want to attempt to spell them because I know I would mangle them so. At one point the teacher sat on his head. Larry accepted it. It’s a classic Larry move. He also refused to back down when he made up his mind to sit down during an entire game of capture the flag. At one point, he did join the game just to wear the flag as a cape and have it fall off after he walked two steps. He then promptly quit. That’s the kind of Larry humor that helps you get through the day. Though it’s not all about Larry, all the kids are great. I’d list them by name but I don’t know all their names. I call them “Oh wow, that girl is super fast and man I wish I had picked her for my team” and “This kid thinks all these flags of the United States are actually Peru.” Nonetheless, it’s not like they know my name either. I live in a new reality where I am officially Hans. Hans. Hans and Franz. Han Solo. It’s close enough. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t correct it but man, they sure can say Rebecca well. That’s not a common Spanish name. It’s fine. I’m over it. What else has happened this week? That’s about the extent of it so far. I’m now becoming a super athlete that averages over three hours of strenuous effort a day. I probably sweat out the weight of a small baby every day. I don’t know how to properly shoot a basketball but some of the kids can’t even hit the backboard so I think I’m doing alright. And yes, dear readers, there will be more confessions of love in the coming days. I have my sights set on certain women, my hypothetical fake interests that will get their own specific posts. Though yes, there are also enemies abrewing like the people that take the spoons that I specifically counted out for my class and then ruin the whole arrangement. Will those people get the blog treatment? No they aren’t even worth my time. I’m the bigger man. They’re in my thoughts though. It isn’t pretty. So it goes.


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