Fourth Tier road for sure, there's a river down the middle!

I'm sorry that I've been such a slacker with the blogging lately, but I feel like I have a legitimate excuse. You see, the motherboard of my laptop is about as useful as a Frisbee. It might actually be less useful, it´s definitely less fun. After several treks crisscrossing town following vague directions and a sub-par description on my part of the computer´s issues, I left my misbehaving machine in the (hopefully) reputable hands of a repairman. When I returned a few days later, I was informed that both the motherboard and the video card were toast, very burned toast. Luckily all of this happened during the second half of my stay here and not during the first couple weeks. Unfortunately, all of this happened exactly when medical school secondary applications, many with "we recommend returning your application essays within two weeks" warnings, started arriving in my inbox. I never thought that I´d wish for a typewriter, but I´ve found myself lusting after the clinic doctor´s motherboard-less typing machine the past few weeks. (Please ignore the fact that I´m currently writing a blog post instead of an application essay. This is so much more fun than "How do you imagine your personal and professional lives intersecting in 10 years?" Hell if I know.)

But I digress, enough whining about my slight discomfort and technology withdrawals. This is about adventure!
Since arriving, we´ve frequently been attacked in the zócalo by guides offering trips to a nearby waterfall called Hierve el agua, or the water boils. This weekend six of us from ProWorld decided to venture out on our own. Armed with bug spray, some pesos, umbrellas and directions from our host moms, we hopped on a bus to Mitla. We soon realized two things. One, no one had brought enough small change for this impromptu adventure. We all had large bills (large being the equivalent of $20), but most transportation services, restaurants and vendors don´t accept anything larger than a $50 pesos (i.e. life runs on $1 and $5 bills). Two, as the rain began to splatter on the bus` windshield, we realized that we were in for a wet day. The rainy season has been so much rainier than I ever imagined possible and Saturday was ark-worthy. Arriving in Mitla, our obvious guero-ness paid off and we were immediately offered a ride in a camioneta to Hierve. Camioneta is a confusing word because it can be applied to anything from 18 passenger vans to 2 passenger pickup trucks. We were directed to the bed of a little pickup that had been transformed into a 12+ passenger vehicle by the addition of bench seats and a tarped roof in the back. We felt very much like we should be illegally crossing a border but as the driver said, "the back is more fun".
Without going into laborious detail I will summarize the 45-minute drive into the mountains by thanking God that I no longer get carsick and that I don´t suffer from chronic back pain, as both would have ended badly. Seeing as these weren´t a concern, I had a great time watching the scenery and joking about the progressively deteriorating road with my fellow passengers. The road became progressively less road-like until we were driving through streams and potholes large enough to drown in. The bright side to the bad roads and the persistent rain, however, is that we had the site to ourselves when we finally arrived.
It turns out that Hierve el Agua is not a waterfall at all, but rather a hot springs that looks like a waterfall from a distance because of the mineral deposits on the cliff, left behind by hundreds of years of sulfur water. Due to the rain and the fog (we were literally in a cloud), the "waterfall" itself was hard to seen, but we were plenty distracted by the other rock formations and several deep pools. We had come prepared with swimsuits and took advantage of the "lukewarm" pools, ignoring the questionable fogginess of the water and incredulous looks from other visitors. After several cannonball competitions and plenty of photos, we dried off as best we could and got back in the truck. The return trip was quicker but also much bumpier, being downhill.
We found a nice little restaurant in Mitla where we filled our bellies with warm coffee and traditional Oaxacan food before venturing off to the market for some last minute souvenir shopping. We were definitely a tired, more subdued group of gueros on the busride home and nearly missed our stop because everyone was so exhausted. The only bummer of the whole day was that we didn't go on a similar adventure sooner. It seems like I'm just getting to know some of the other ProWorld interns and now it's nearly time to go! I'll be leaving Oaxaca in 10 days, spending the night with my Puebla host family, and finally making the long trip home. Idaho IDAHO!