Page 9: "I Can See The Stars, In America"

Listen to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xw8Q91S43y0

Sean says I look like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. I've got black paint arched up to my eyebrows. So's he. So's Ryan. So's Louise. We're lying planking marine-style on the hill in total darkness (here, 10pm). This is flashlight tag. And despite our playful banter at the start point I've sprinted 100 metres, crawled under a building and hid in the woods. This is no game. We are serious!

"We're Not Competitive"

Catching my breath, I look up. New York, woah. You've got me. The sky is COVERED in stars. More than any I've seen anywhere else in the world. The sky is more star than not.

And I'm stomach first in the mud thinking existentially about how moments like this make you remember how small you are in the world, and how much beauty we just don't notice if we're always looking up and never around, down, up or behind and then WHAM Ryan thinks he saw a flashlight nearing, gotta move, guys RUNRUNRUN.

Page 8: Being In 3rd Grade And Being 8 Is Hard, Being In 3rd Grade And Being 19 Is Harder

                                                                                                                                                    22/06/14

Today was mock camp day which meant we got to go to classes that our assigned age groups will do. My timetable looked like; Woodwork, Cheer leading, Pool, Basketball, Lake.
Although I'm staying in a staff cabin this summer, rather than living with the kids as 97% of counselors do (only me, because I have a night-based job, the media team who have an insanely busy job and the baking girls who have night work are in staff cabins) I still got to have a *Freshmen day as that's the age group I'll be spending my free time with.

*Freshmen are the youngest group on camp, 3rd-4th graders (age 8-9)

So I made a simple photo frame with guidance from an Arts Counselor, did my swim test

(not before holding hands with my "Buddy", safely entering the water and later, at the lake, wearing a life jacket...).

Perfectly demonstrated by this gif, when a lifeguard shouts "BUDDY!" you grab your Buddies hand

Going to Uni and teaching in Thailand last year made me very independent. I've had a lot of freedom. To suddenley have to ask permission before going anywhere and following a timetable on a minutely basis did come as a shock.

To be honest, I think it gave me a much needed re-cap in empathy. I know exactly how a 4th grader spends their day. Today wasn't about me or what I like (Basketball is soooooo not me...) it was about TEAM and doing stuff you hate!

We got taught a concept today- 'Roses and Thorns'. Before bedtime in a Freshmen cabin you gather the kids in a circle , go around  and each say something positive and negative about your day. It's used to establish routine, recognize achievements and address concerns.

So I'll end Page 8 that way-

ROSE: When Becky, Louise and Dominique saved some 'Monkey Bread' for me (they teach baking classes and somehow managed to hold back half a tray so our bunk could try it!)

THORN: Freshmen team losing the fire building contest on Echo beach in staff events tonight. Building fires is what I got hired for! We came last!

Page 7: Living The American Dream, Right Here!

There are nine spider bites on my legs. Yeah I counted because THEY ITCH.

Working in the forest has its drawbacks.

But it's also a pretty fun job. (And maybe I'll become Spider-Woman or something?).

Today I put up a load of hammocks and tested them out. Now, to an untained eye it looks like I'm just chillin' in a hammock. But actually I'm testing the tension and swing then re-adjusting accordingly. Ha.

Oh, and we now have an archery range in Outback so I've put some training into that. My miss is more frequent than my hit. I've been hitting things, for sure, but not the target. Aww. Although it makes the th-wack of when I actually hit the target more satisfying I need to be a skilled archer by the time kids arrive so I can instruct!

My current skill level as demonstrated by J-Lau!

I've caught myself a few times worrying "I need to stop thinking up Hunger Games themed Games for the kids and actually do work. Then I remember- I'm a camp counselor, this is my job. Awesome!

Last night was also pretty cool.
There's a couple of cars and over a hundred of us so nights out have proven a logistical challenge. And a long wait :( Picture this- there's six of us in the car park waiting in line for a ride as the American staff shuttle backwards and forth to the bar. We've made an effort. I'm wearing red lipstick. Dominique is in a dress. Becky and Louise have make up that looks awesome.

We're waiting with Sean and Chris then Catrina rocks up in line and invites us fishing.

For real.

So, at 9pm (which is dark-ish here) in our nice clothes we head down to the creek and going fishing before going to the bar. Hands down wierdest pre drinks ever!

No one caught anything (well, Sean caught some lake weed...) BUT Chris caught a firefly. The trees buzzed with them, Fireflies (also known as lightning bugs) are sassy bugs that light up and zoom around. It's like kinetic fairy lights and they have the ability to transform a swampy creek into a disney-esque wonderland.

Page 6: Good Morning America!

I'm here! I've been here a week now actually, but the staff computers only got here today. Which means I can stop bugging the office staff to lend me their work laptops so I can quickly send home one sentence "I'm alive" emails to my Nan and actually blog.

So much to tell y'all!

The sitch: I'm living with 9 others in a cabin. It's communal living so think Uni meets sleepover club meets army camp rolled into one.

And the food is all-american (obviously). Waffle sticks for breakfast! Grilled cheese for lunch! All good now, until I go home super-sized :O And the assorted neon kool-aid which I've avoided with commintment. Ew.

Day to day there's not much to write about. We're getting camp ready for campers, so it's been raking leaves, putting up teepees, clearing the forest, making footpaths and oh, raking! ALL THE RAKING.
It's a 9-5 job. My arms and core. Ache.
I can't tell you how stupid it feels to pick weeds in a forest...it's a forest!

I've mentioned previously I'm teaching adventure. Basically there's a big clearing in the forest where we've set up an army camp and will have sleep-outs with the older kids. It's about half a mile into the woods away from camp. Dense and buggy. The trees are tall...about 8-10 Georgia's high. There's salamanders and chipmunks!


In Walmart

Tucker: Have you had kettle corn?
Me: What?
Aretha: She's never had kettle corn!
Me: It looks like popcorn?
Tucker: No! No! No!
*Tucker ushers a bag towards me , I try a piece and they look on expectantly*
Me: Er, that is popcorn?
Tucker: But popcorn is salty, this stuff is sweet
Me: Back home we get sweet popcorn...
Aretha: It's called kettle corn!
Me: Oh, not in England!
Aretha: Wierd!


Word: "HYPHY": Cool-Crazy but in a good way
         ie: "That jumper is hyphy!"

Page 5: The Eagle Flies Soon

I woke up this morning and realised I can count the number of days before I fly to America on the fingers of both hands. And for a reason I can’t entirely articulate, that's a big deal.
Since having my Visa processed and sending across my medical records and staff T-Shirt size (the final required documents, considering initial applications, references, CRBs, insurances, personal statements, flights, research, phone interviews, follow up queries, Skype interviews, embassy appointments and legal paperwork things like UCAS seem like a very short application process) I'm technically all set to go.

 

Meanwhile, on the official staff group I like to stick around to ask all the important questions

Anyone who knows me well will know that although I’m easily amused I get bored ridiculously quickly. So, I’ve found this ACTIVITY BOOK (ACTIVITY BOOK!!!) which is AMERICAN THEMED and although I guess it will only keep me occupied for about an hour, I’m honestly thrilled with it. Hey, I even bought me a pack of colours to take on the plane! (DON’T JUDGE ME! I’ll just tell any curious passengers I’m a Geography student ;) ).



Don't get jealous, but there's a 'colour in the Whitehouse' page and everything!
Wait- WHAT COLOUR SHOULD I COLOUR THE WHITEHOUSE?

In preparation for living with 12 teenage girls (the campers are 7-15 but I haven’t been assigned my bunk group yet) I’ve also taken notes from books about child development and adolescent behaviour these past few days (my Dad’s an actual counsellor, in the British definition of the word, so I found these on the bookshelf).

$ Theories of Childhood: Redleaf Press
$ Life Strategies for Teens: Jay McGraw
$ The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls: Rachel Simmons

^ I argued that having been a teenage girl through middle and high school I could already write a book about the various passive aggressive strategies girls use to abuse and exclude each other. I’m also word-perfect on Mean Girls’ screenplay so I thought I had this subject area ticked.

While reading those books I realised I’ve forgotten quite a lot of what it’s like to be a tween so I’m re-reading my old journals.

 

       Oh yeah, I also decorated a new journal for the next ten weeks!

I'm not sure what the blogging situation will be like at camp. It's an 'unplugged' camp which means no electronics for campers or counsellors but in our free time we can use the staff computers. If I don't manage to write much, I'll update y'all when I get back.

7 days! I'll like to be in America!

 

Page 4: I'm Going To London...(and I'm not going to buy 'Heat' magazine...)

As part of the J1 Visa application process (translation for any Visa newbs, 'J1' means it's a cultural exchange and non-immigration) I had to go to the US Embassy in London.

The day started well. I came back from my sunny seaside Uni for the day optimistically only packing a cardigan and sunglasses. Crossing over the English border I was greeted with a helluvalota rain, which meant I had to steal a jumper from my sisters wardrobe (SORRY NIKKI!).

I walk/crawl down the stairs still half asleep, questioning why important things are always early morning things.

Mum: Are you Marilyn Monroe
Me:    Nah?
Mum: What's with the red lipstick?
Me:    Lipstain. Oh. I can't wear pink or I look like Barbie
Mum: You look like a hooker. They won't grant you a visa if they think you're a hooker! Hahaha!

She was joking (I think).

Anyway, after arriving at the Embassy and going through identity and appointment checks, airport-style security and paperchecks I was led down into a great hall. Which is much less Hogwarts than I hoped. Basically you sit around on blue plastic chairs (patriotic!) until your ticket number flashes up inviting you to an interview kiosk. It's like Argos, for people!

In the process of checking criminal records they took scans of my fingerprints twice. I've literally spent the past week only touching things if I need to and being terrified of my own journal for fear of papercuts (if your fingerprints aren't solid they can refuse you a visa...).
I'm a nineteen year old incapable of driving a dodgem, let alone a car and I jump at loud noises. Believe me, I am not a threat to State or President!

I'm lucky enough that I was sorted in about half an hour. I've heard stories of people spending all day there! In my interview I was asked by a chirpy American "Ah! You're going to camp? And then you want to come back to University afterwards? Good job! Visa approved!". I walked away, kind of bemused as after all the security and authority and general scariness that the interview was so short. I was expecting CSI style, locked rooms and tape recorders! I walked down the wrong exit.

"It's the other way darling!"
Said the black-armbanded security guard holding a gun.
Someone holding a loaded gun just called me darling.
Life is strange.



 

Page 3: "Wait, You're A Babysitter For 'The Parent Trap' Kids?"

Phyllis Ford                                                                     The Camp Counselor

University of Oregon

 

 

Somewhere between adolescence and adulthood there occurs in human development an age which is physically and psychologically impossible. It is that unfathomable stage known as the camp counselor, a creature undefined by psychologists, misunderstood by camp directors, worshipped by campers, either admired or doubted by parents, and unheard of by the rest of society.

A camp counselor is a rare combination of doctor, lawyer, Indian and chief. He is a competent child psychologist with his sophomore textbook as proof. He is an underpaid baby sitter with neither television nor refrigerator. He is a strict disciplinarian with a twinkle in his eye, a minister to all faiths with questions about his own. He is a referee, coach, teacher and advisor. He is the example of manhood in wornout tennis shoes, a sweatshirt two sizes too large and a hat two sizes too small. He is a humorist in a crisis, a doctor in an emergency, and a song leader, entertainer and play director. He is an idol with his head in a cloud of wood smoke and his feet in the mud. He is a comforter in a leaky tent on a cold night and a pal who has just loaned someone his last pair of dry socks. He is a teacher of the out-of-doors, knee-deep in poison ivy.

A counselor is expected to repair 10 years of damage to Tommy in 10 days, make Jerry into a man, rehabilitate Paul, allow John to be an individual and help Peter adjust to the group.

...So, basically