I Have the t.v. at the Hostel. Win.

Which is funny, because I normally don't watch a lot of tv. But I am watching some news channel with an English accent. It weird because the tv usually has football on it, but now it doesn't, because I control what happens. It was really funny last night because a Bug's Life was on tv, but it was dubbed over in Spanish. So that was really funny. I didn't watch it because the guy with the remote changed it to football. Or something in English. Anyway, I was too tired to really care because I spent all day rafting in Rio Mendoza.

And let me tell you, it was legitimately fantastic.
Fan.tas.tic.

We had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch a 9 o'clock shuttle out to the river, which took about an hour. We met some very cool British guys on the bus with very cool names, like Nicos and Liam. They talked in their brilliant accents, obviously, and one of the guys did a Texan accent, and that probably was a highlight of my life. He did it very well too, it was surprising. I don't know why, but it made me laugh a lot. Then we finally arrived at the lake and I probably have not seen a more beautiful lake in all of my years. It looked almost fake because of the color blue it was. I would upload a picture, but I cannot find my uploader in the bohemeth of a backpack that I took with me, but let me tell you it is simply beautiful. There were all sorts of craggy mountains around it and it was wonderful. After we stopped ogling at the lake we were directly ordered to strap on all sorts of gear, including wetsuits, water shoes, water jackets, life jackets, and helmets. We had quite the get-up. So then us and about 15 other Americans (epic win, we were with an agg group from South Carolina; did I ever take in their Southern drawl.) we hustled onto another bus, where we drove up the river for about a million miles. After we got a saftey tutorial about how not to die in the river, and then we all hopped in, and were off.

It was a slight out of body experience. I don't really think I can explain it. Other than I knew that I was grabbing life its huesos and sucking the marrow out of it. As we paddled along the rapids, I experienced such an extreme sense of satisfaction and adventure that I wish I had all the time. It was me against the swirly, murky river, with hands of ice that slapped against my body. It was exhilirating, especially when I sat in the very front. Taking the rapids dead on was brilliant. It was dangerous and thrilling and challenging and fantastic all rolled into one thing. It was like Che Guevara and Pocahontas were coursing through my veins at the same time. And every time I wasn't battling the waves I would look up and be surrounded by blue, blue south-hemespheric sky, only to be broken by the brown, and tan crags of the mountains on its side. It was seriously one of the greatest moments of my life.

K. that's all for now. Enjoy.