Como se dice?

What I mistakenly assumed was going to be a short orientation meeting for our mission trip turned into 4+ hours of mission training today. Which would have been fine had I been given notice and not gotten less than 4 hours of sleep last night. I don't think my dad, who's in charge of the thing, looked to highly on my dozing during parts of it.

The training videos were a piece of work. The lady producer was a page right out of a "how to wear makeup by Tammy Faye Baker" book. At one point I couldn't resist and just blurted out that the woman needed to step away from the makeup bag. Another guy looked like a used car salesman and kept referring to himself in the third person. "Joe Bob can't do it on his own. Joe Bob needs his team's help." I really shouldn't have to watch these and take them seriously, it's way too easy to make fun of them.

Then at the end of our session we had a "Spanish lesson" by a woman who goes to our church. I didn't want to stay, but we were forced to bond. It's really annoying to have taken 5 years of Spanish and have to listen to people who can't order a burrito at the local Taco Bell. Our "instructor" was a bit ambitious and I think she believed we'd all be fluent after 45 minutes. At one point she was teaching us how to ask where our luggage is. And being punch drunk by this point, I turn to my mom crying because I'm laughing so hard, and say "what's the point in asking them something in Spanish, because they're going to answer us in Spanish and we won't know what the heck they are saying. Isn't this all pretty pointless." So the mom is giggling and we point it out to the rest of the group, who finally decide that after 45 minutes, perhaps they should stick with "I don't speak Spanish." That, they can handle.