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Belgians: so far so good
SSar's Beast
morbane
A couple of days before Christmas, I got a text from my flatmate, roughly along the lines of, "My billeting coordinator just contacted me and I'll understand if you say no but can we put three students up for a couple of nights in January?" anord slaves for volunteers for AFS, an international exchange programme, and we occasionally have students to stay when they are temporarily between families or traveling out of their region. Not usually three, though. We have only the one spare room, barely four metres square. Still, there's room at the inn if the guests don't expect much. And they don't expect much. It seems that they're good friends, who have been placed in different towns (Timaru, Te Awamutu, somewhere in Southland starting with O that I didn't catch) and their main request was not to be split up.

They arrived today, and Steph apologised profusely for some miscommunication along the line: they're here until Tuesday, not Sunday. I am already foretelling doom in the form of hot water shortage.

Upon hearing that they were here for four nights, I panicked and went into some sort of grocery overdrive and bought a lot of breakfast resources. Which was a bit silly, because Steph was already in town and headed to the supermarket. Still, it'll get used up eventually.

They are Charlotte, Aurelie, and Mathias. Their English is perfect (which is good, because while I can do a little French, they're primarily Dutch speakers). They hung around town with Steph (the three of them arrived from different towns, thus at staggered times), came home with her, and helped us with cooking and tidying chores. Then, after dinner, weaselfilms taught them how to play Guillotine.

We basically turned the spare room into a beds-and-minimalist joint. They seem to all fit. Barely. There was about half an hour of excited teenage giggling and they've quieted down now, which I'm actually pretty impressed with.

Steph feels guilty about the imposition. Okay. I get that. There'll be cookies. She bakes when she feels guilty (delicious, delicious, delicious guilt). But I have a good feeling about this. They're lovely people. This'll be fun.

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