The poetry of Ruben Dario and BMs

She is a darling Mexican foreign exchange student, who refuses to speak English because it is just too much work.
"Let me help you with this homework," I say.
She attempts to translate a poem for me. I read the lines aloud in Spanish and she is forced to replace the words and draw out some meaning in English. This way, we both learn. And get to make fun of each other. When she uncovers the English version of a Spanish word, she writes it down while I spell it to her using an English alphabet. When I say e, she hears i. When I say a, she hears e. It starts to sound like a Neutral Agreement* recording.
"I have trouble with the bowels," she says.
I am a compassionate young woman who, thanks to one semester of college level Spanish, understands the nuances of Spanish pronunciation. I knew in advance (adbance) that v and b were interchangable. I explained to her that bowels and vowels are two different things. For one, you may need to step quickly to a toilet. For another, you may need to return to an earlier stage of schooling. For both, you may just need to practice.

*Reference to obscure song: check!