Look Ma! No Ticks!

I have been back for camp for almost three weeks, and I thought I should write the highlights down before I suppress the horrors. No, it wasn't that bad, but I don't think I will up for sainthood any time soon. During the ups and downs of my four days at camp, I thought about the stake leaders I had when I was a girl. How did they do it? I had eight girls to chase around. I can't even begin to think how my stake leaders managed to look after 30 plus. I was exhausted after the first hour.

The narrative will probably take too long so here's a list of highlights and insights. Not in any particular order, really. Maybe chronologically.

1. When I was twelve I headed to camp in a van. I'm pretty sure it was a brown van--those were pretty popular in my ward. Girls in Manhattan went to camp on a train (two trains in fact). It is actually a great way to travel. All the girls got to sit in one car and get to know one another. During the trip I met a first-year named Christina. We got off to a great start because A) she liked my name (thanks to Grey's Anatomy) and B) she thought I was sixteen years old. Sadly, she was not in my group. The trip to camp was quieter than the trip home, as many were shy at first. On the way home, however, the girls sang all the camp songs they could think of. Leaders throughout the traincar suggested to oncoming passengers that they should probably sit elsewhere if they wanted a peaceful ride. I know I was glad when I stopped hearing yet another rousing rendition of "Rise and Shine" or "Big Bootie."

2. Including my co-leader and myself, my group consisted of ten girls: 1 Spanish only, 3 prefered Spanish (including my co-leader), 3 bilingual, and three english only. It's a good thing I speak Spanish, but I must say that translating back in forth was harder than I imagined. When one word escaped me, my brain threw out the corresponding French word (with a saucy Spanish accent, of course). Needless to say, I was a linguistic nightmare, and there were many times when I spoke the wrong language to the wrong people. Mental note: do not apply to the UN to be a translater.

3. New York campers were incredibly unprepared. Although the standard packing list was issued to every girl, not everyone came as prepared as they should have been. I recall the amount of things I took as a girl, and I remember adhering to the list religiously. I'm pretty sure I brought a mess kit to camp along with other necessary things like backpacks. Sure, living in the city does make it hard to obtain all camping gear, but the stake did a great job of filling the gaps. That being said, I was shocked when girls lined up for the hike without a backpack or good hiking shoes. (Converse sneakers are a good many things, but hiking shoes they are not!!) I had girls who were just going to carry their water bottles, lunch, and camp manual in their hands. I knew that would never work, so there was a lot of doubling up. I carried a lunch or two in my backpack, which didn't work out too well for those girls when I got lost on the hike.

4. I got lost on the hike. I had a couple of girls that were not quite ready for it. One girl, Tita, who lives at a "special school" and was not physically, mentally or emotionally ready for the hike. Thus she didn't make it very far. I expected it, and I was a little upset when some leaders thought she should continue even though she was visibly ill. So I left her with them to catch up with my group (who were being lead by another leader, don't worry I didn't let them wander aimlessly in the forest--although by that time I was ready to shove a couple of girls into the woods without a map). The next girl to struggle was Vanessa. I hope she doesn't read this blog (she doesn't even know it exists, actually) but she struggled because she was just plain lazy. It sounds mean, but it's the truth. She said she couldn't continue with the hike because her heart was beating faster and it was harder for her to breathe. I was a little annoyed by this time and I replied rather sarcastically that those symptoms usually occurred while exercising. After more of her whining I agreed to take her back down. It was amazing how her energy was then restored. On the way down I met up with another leader and left Vanessa with her so I could find the rest of my group. Funny thing, though, I never met up with them. I did, however, catch up to one of the youth leaders, Juhly, who also got separated. Together we headed up the mountainside.

The leader who was guiding our hike did mark the trail, but we obviously didn't see the markers and we headed strait onto the Appalachian trail. After about an hour we realized we were lost. We should have caught up with everyone else by that time. (City girls on hikes take lots of breaks.) Luckily, I taught the certification on what to do when lost in the woods the day before.

Juhly and I stayed calm, prayed, and shouted in sets of threes. Then we retraced our steps, and ran into another group of campers who pointed us in the right direction...or so they thought. We got lost again. Not wanting to hang out forever in the woods, we decided to find that one group of girls and join them on their hike. How awkward. Here I was, supposed to be a leader, and I lost my group. I hope that is no reflection of my leadership skills.

5. As mentioned in the title, I came home without ticks, or any bug bite for that matter. I thank my lucky stars for the super-strength bug repellent I procured for camp. I specifically chose the can with the most warning labels--always a smart move when buying bug spray. I was really concerned about ticks. Apparently girls in the past came home with ticks that gave them lyme disease. Being one of the many uninsured Americans, I prayed and sprayed so it wouldn't happen to me. The ticks were the scariest bugs at camp, in my opinion, but I saw way too many girls freak out over dragonflies and bumblebees. These girls live in a city infested with cockroaches and they freaked out over dragonflies and bumblebees.

6. I don't think the girls really cared about certification too much. So the fire skills I taught may never be put to use in an abandoned lot or dumpster in Harlem. I think the girls really just came to swim in the lake. Sure that's fun, if you like swimming (I've never been a fan). This year, though, the draw to the lake was enhanced by the addition of a teenaged boy life guard. He was the talk of camp. He wasn't an overly attractive boy; he was just a boy, and he got more attention than any teenage boy could want from a gaggle of giggling girls. Andrea (the Stake Camp Director) ingeniously confiscated any notes to the lifeguard in order to make sure her charges were not planning a late night rendez-vous. After reading them, she did give them to the lifeguard. One of the girls in my group, Caroline, developed a huge crush on the boy, and she wrote him a note. She didn't suggest to meet up with him, but she did use her Dr.Pepper Lip Smackers to decorate the letter with kisses. Poor girl. In a few years she is going to be really embarrased about that.

7. All the camp leaders were fabulous, an we had a stunning representation of singles and hispanic sisters. The hispanic sisters were so much fun; they reminded me of my mission in so many ways. A couple were actually from Ecuador too, so that added to the fun. My co-leader, Sonia Soriano was great. She kept a good watch on the girls and probably rolled her eyes at them more than me. I love her! I was also really glad that my friend Jessica Allred came to camp. I was amazed by her enthusiasm and wide knowledge of camp songs. She taught some new ones (I may never get "Princess Pat" out of my head) and she encouraged the Spanish sisters to teach some of their songs. Oh yes, I now know all the words to "La Cucaracha."

8. I love roasted marshmellows. I really love dutch oven peach cobbler. I now love roasted Starbursts. Try it; you'll love it. I ate a lot of junk food that week, and my intestines are still punishing me for the abuse.

9. I saw the most beautiful shooting star on the last night of camp. I was hoping to see at least one shooting star since A) there was no light pollution and I could actually see stars and B) I knew that we were at camp during the tail end of a meteor shower. At bedtime I was heading back to my tent, when this large star shot across the lower eastern portion of the horizon. I had never seen one so large, and close to the planet before. It continued to stun me as the tail turned green as it finished its descent and burned up in the atmosphere. A few of us were fortunate to catch a glimpse of that marvel. Vanessa, who I mentioned earlier, saw it, and it was probably the first shooting star she had ever seen. She was so happy about it.

10. The last night in the tent I decided to pop out my earplugs and bond with the girls one last time before heading home. The girls were really hyper, but that is pretty common on the last night of camp. Dariana and Aimee (pronounced I-may) were particularly giddy and wanted to stay up telling ghost stories. IF I were to have favorites, they were probably my favorite. The two girls were from Ecuador and they were very responsible, happily participated in everything, and did what I asked them to do. Plus did I mention they were from Ecuador? Aimee and her family actually only left Duran, Ecuador in February and she did not know a lot of English. In fact, she was my Spanish-only girl. She has the best Ecuadorian accent. I actually forgot about that Ecuadorian whine until she started branching out and talking more. Then I heard it: the way she said "hermana" with a whiney stress over the first two syllables screamed Ecuador. Then I started hearing it in my own brain as I formulated sentences in my head. The kicker was when I actually voiced it while asking one of the Ecuadorian sisters in the kitchen while asking for a new can opener. It was heavenly.

Oh yeah, back to the ghost stories. Dariana knew just about every Ecuadorian scary story imaginable. The scariest stories were about "duendes" - little ferries/trolls that haunted disobedient children. According to the stories, one of the "duendes" favorite tricks is to cut the hair off of little girls and then wear it as their own. Yeah, that's pretty creepy. Dariana was an excellent story teller. She lowered her voice appropriately and paused dramatically during tense moments. Aimee and Vanessa (also Ecuadorian, but it has been a long time since her family immigrated) were scared to death. This fear was further exacerbated by the 5th/6th years who shook the tent and yelled at the climax of one of her stories. Sonia didn't appreciate that, and we all got scolded. I really wish I knew about the "duendes" before camp started. It may have helped during chore time.

11. On the way home, I shared a taxi cab with Aimee and her sister Emily who do not live too far from me. For a while I totally forgot that I was in New York. I had two girls chattering away in Spanish while driving by hispanic businesses. The only thing that wasn't Spanish was the middle-eastern cab driver who had to get directions from me in Spanish because I couldn't quite remember English.

So that was camp. It was tough, and I hated being there more often than I care to admit, but for some reason I would totally go back next year.

Into the Woods

I just thought I would drop a quick note to let you all know that I will be going camping this week. Believe it or not, there are a few people out there that think that I have never been camping. I know I look all urban and posh, but oh yes, I know all about that tent stuff. See the above picture. I believe I am the girl with the blue and white shirt standing next to my dad. (Thanks to Brenda Sparrow for the photo!!)

Since I do not have a car, you may ask how I will get to the woods. Well, it may surprise you to know that there is a camp ground in Central Park. Kidding! There isn't one (for people with homes). I will actually take a train to a shuttle that will lead to church-owned campgrounds.

During this particular camping excursion I will be a Certification Leader for the young women from my church. Every year the church sends girls into the woods to teach them valuable skills like making bedrolls, cooking over a fire, and hunting snipes. Growing up in Washington State all those skills seemed very important because everyone camps and hikes there. In New York City, however, I will really strive to show girls how necessary it is to learn camping skills; I doubt they have many opportunities to head up to the woods. This year I will be teaching Harlem and Washington Heights girls how to sharpen knives and build a fire--skills that will be more than useful in starting a life of crime. To the people of New York: I am so sorry.

I'll post pictures when I get back! If I get back...

I think I have a new friend

About a week and a half ago, a friend from Spokane gave me a free ticket to see "The Fantasticks" an off-Broadway show playing at the very illustrious Snapple Theater. The show was...interesting. I was kind of expecting some big song and dance numbers and fun costumes, but it was a smaller production with eight cast members, no costume changes, and no fancy set. The story was kind of a love story with some cheesy songs, and it was really hard for me to concentrate because I had Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in my lap. I really wanted to read! I must say that I didn't love any of the characters, but there was one that fascinated me a little. This guy was the first one on stage. He pranced around a bit at first, but for the most part he was a background character, almost like an extra prop. He didn't even sing or speak--his character's title was actually "The Mute". But he moved well, with cat-like precision. And despite the fact that he didn't have to wait for any speaking cues he watched the play unfold very intently. I will not lie...he was also kind of pretty.

By the end of the play the boy got his girl, and I was ready for the train ride to get back into my book. As I boarded the train, I noticed a very familiar face across from me--it was the kid from the play! I was somehow less interested in Harry Potter and more in seeing if I could make eye contact with the fellow. (Since I was sitting on the front row, he was bound to have noticed me.) Yeah, that didn't happen; he was sitting next to a friend, so back to the Deathly Hallows I went. Now that I am all brave from my Ted Allen meeting, I decided that I needed to mention the play before I leave the train. I was hoping for an opportune moment, but he kept chatting away to the kid next to him. I breathed a small sigh of relief that he didn't depart from the train before I had a chance to say something.

Fortunately for me, we got off on the same stop. Cool, huh? I had my chance. He was behind me just a bit, so I turned my head and said, "Great show tonight." Then he said, "I thought I recognized you from the audience!" I was so flattered. We chatted a bit; he wanted to know why I went to the play, etc. It was so cool, like a future celebrity sighting. I was excited to share this news with my roommates.

The story goes on. Sunday night I came home from some friends' house, and who was on my train? The kid from the play!! Sadly I didn't see him until we got off at our stop, but guess what, he still recognized me. This time we exchanged names (Nick). It is just too bad we don't use the same staircase at the subway station. That would be cooler. Oh, I am not finished. Tonight I came home from downtown and took the express train, meaning that I had to get off at another stop. As I rounded the corner to exit, I ran into Nick, and we talked a bit again before he headed downtown. I really look forward to taking the train now because I think I have a new friend. We chat. We exchange pleasantries. He told me that he went to the beach today. Who knows, maybe after a few more run-ins we will exchange phone numbers or mixed CDs or something. Either way, I think this is really cool.

Now before anyone gets excited about possible future "dates," let us all remember that he is a boy that sings and dances. On stage. But according to his myspace page he is straight. He is just a little young and wee (small).