White-Water Hijinks

The ZLC program directors took the class into the mountains for some R&R. "Sounds like fun," we said, and we were right. Lots of fun, interspersed with flashes of terror. Did you know tunnels in the north of Spain are only big enough for one vehicle at a time? Neither did we! And neither did our bus driver, who yielded like Little Orphan Annie on her first tricycle ride out of the Orphanage.


Our pod stayed in the hotel Ordesa in the heart of the Pyrenees mountain range. Joseph is intrigued by a butterfly to his right.


Jermaine and Micah rebuild the Spanish Armada one tricycle at a time. England is shockingly complacent upon hearing this.



White-water rafting can be fun and exciting, especially when you fall into the rapids. Our boat's guide was exceptionally crazy, and exceptionally Argentinian. Classmates Marat the Russian, Joseph the Texan, and Marvin the Nicaraguan are on the left. On the right is myself, Panos the Greek, and two random Barcelonians. We swam more than any other boat. Who flips a whitewater raft, honestly? Check out some heavy action shots.

Our guide levitated for most of the trip. The trick was cool at first, but grew to resent the way he talked down to us.

Above, an unknown stow-away Spaniard attempts to drown classmate Marvin Matus with his Spanish palm. Marvin survived the near drowning and can still dance the Salsa better than Ricky Martin.

What this picture doesn't show are the pirates whom Marat bravely fought throughout the day. We struck a truce with the lot after Marat chopped off Blackbeard's hand with his paddle.

Old Beardy was kind enough to pose for a picture, but only after a cask of rum. Thanks Marat for teaching Blackbeard a valuable lesson -- you shouldn't plunder a Russian's booty with only one hand.