Some people might call this place a sausage-fest. It's an all-male camp after all. You may be wondering why the majority of the people here abscond from any major female company for eight weeks (well, half of them are pre-pubescent and couldn't give a monkeys). Today I witnessed a camp tradition, the picking of the teams for the last eight days of camp. Twelve team coaches adopt the names of twelve American Colleges (universities for the condused/foreign) and Draft the entire camp. For those unfamiliar with Drafting it's worth looking up. Most major American sports teams don't "buy" their players, they get awarded their position in a draft by what position they end up in at the end of the season. So, the Celtics just won the Basketball jobbie a month ago - they got to pick, from the pool of players on the transfer list first.
In our case the position in the draft is awarded randomly. In the first pick they basically pick the twelve best athletes in camp. The team who get the first pick effectively pick the Best Athlete in Camp. Okay. Let me put this in perspective. Everyone at camp is an athlete. Most of the kids don't arrive until second four because they're off playing varsity baseball or whatever. For the second four there are hundreds of City X's richest young athletes. The award of being a first round pick is an incredible one. Bear in mind this isn't an "OMG I'm so much better than you " thing - maybe it's hard to explain that there isn't anything elitist or braggy about being a first round pick, it's more like a recognition of dedication. The other thing is, in preparation for the draft the camp undergoes a mass scouting binge. For the last two weeks everyone has been extensively researching everyone else. I don't jest. In fact, to everyone else around here it's deadly serious. My point is, everyone knows who the One One is going to be before he's picked, either that or they have an extremely good idea. There are no real surprises, ergo there are no tears.
Okay, back to my original point. Everyone I have ever met (back home), bar a small minority of very settled and comfortable individuals, who has had any kind of sporty inclinations has been an arsehole. I'm not saying tempers don't fray or that this place is some kind of sports paradise... but it's pretty good. And the great thing is I don't have to do any sports! It's basically the atmosphere and the company - devoid of cynicism this place actually works as a competitive and supportive community. The only kids who cry about losing here are in my cabin and they soon grow out of it.
Tuesday 29 July 2008
Sunday 20 July 2008
Head Space
Yesterday we went to Walmart. Wow, not only does it sell everything (guns included), it also sells everything at ridiculously cheap prices. I'm not talking Tesco is two pence cheaper on bananas than Asda cheap, I'm talking a flat screen HD TV is thousands of dollars cheaper than anywhere else. Walmart isn't just beating the competition, it's undercutting the competition to the extent that there is no competition. Walmart has won. They even have leaflets dotted around the store aimed at people who don't have that much money - for example, you've got a five year old who goes through clothes at a rate of knots, "Do the math!" the headline screams - then it lists everything you need to buy for that child and how much you're saving. These aren't just empty boasts with pennies to save, they are literally offering a stupidly cheaper alternative.
Scarily, Walmart was in a large industrial estate on the outskirts of a larger town, much like the ones you see anywhere in the UK, but, whether by karma or intention, opposite Walmart on the highway was a trailer park, full of Walmart's target demographic. A brisk drive down the highway and everything that Walmart didn't sell (or did, they do, after all sell "everything") was sold here. We even passed a hospital which had more in common with a superstore than a place of medical emergency and rest. Sweeping out before it was an enormous car park and it occurred to me that everything here is for sale. Health care is a commodity. I even saw drive-thru ATMs. You might be forgiven for thinking that it was at this point that I lost my mind, sloppy grey-matter dribbling out of my ears like microwaved porridge. Fortunately, my sanity stayed intact. Just.
Everything is for sale. Someone mentioned tipping in a comment, but this is, again, a culture where everything is paid for, even service and courtesy, and this isn't in a grudging kind of way, it's just par for the course. They want to give you their money, there is not point in being chivalrous and refusing because they don't seem to get why you'd refuse. The preverbial you has offered a service, that service is then repayed in gratitude and a twenty dollar bill. It's just business, it's just the way the world works. In the UK people begrudge having to give up their cash. If you tip someone out of desire, more than courtesy, you are going out of your way to acknowledge extraordinary service, above and beyond that which is just expected. Money makes things work. Work makes money. It's simple... what other system works better...???
Cough. Sorry - drifted off into a world of capitalist bliss. And I'm back in the room! Okay. Head Space. I don't really talk about these things out loud, which is why I blog them instead. What I was originally going to write about was how, without regular and personal access to a PC, ideas are slopping around in my head blending into one another. I bought a notebook the other day with dividers built into it - now I can keep notes and keep things seperate! Isn't it amazing how paper is still the best way of keeping track of things? For thousands of years humankind has been writing things down and the concept is still going strong. Wonderful. I love paper.
Scarily, Walmart was in a large industrial estate on the outskirts of a larger town, much like the ones you see anywhere in the UK, but, whether by karma or intention, opposite Walmart on the highway was a trailer park, full of Walmart's target demographic. A brisk drive down the highway and everything that Walmart didn't sell (or did, they do, after all sell "everything") was sold here. We even passed a hospital which had more in common with a superstore than a place of medical emergency and rest. Sweeping out before it was an enormous car park and it occurred to me that everything here is for sale. Health care is a commodity. I even saw drive-thru ATMs. You might be forgiven for thinking that it was at this point that I lost my mind, sloppy grey-matter dribbling out of my ears like microwaved porridge. Fortunately, my sanity stayed intact. Just.
Everything is for sale. Someone mentioned tipping in a comment, but this is, again, a culture where everything is paid for, even service and courtesy, and this isn't in a grudging kind of way, it's just par for the course. They want to give you their money, there is not point in being chivalrous and refusing because they don't seem to get why you'd refuse. The preverbial you has offered a service, that service is then repayed in gratitude and a twenty dollar bill. It's just business, it's just the way the world works. In the UK people begrudge having to give up their cash. If you tip someone out of desire, more than courtesy, you are going out of your way to acknowledge extraordinary service, above and beyond that which is just expected. Money makes things work. Work makes money. It's simple... what other system works better...???
Cough. Sorry - drifted off into a world of capitalist bliss. And I'm back in the room! Okay. Head Space. I don't really talk about these things out loud, which is why I blog them instead. What I was originally going to write about was how, without regular and personal access to a PC, ideas are slopping around in my head blending into one another. I bought a notebook the other day with dividers built into it - now I can keep notes and keep things seperate! Isn't it amazing how paper is still the best way of keeping track of things? For thousands of years humankind has been writing things down and the concept is still going strong. Wonderful. I love paper.
Thursday 17 July 2008
Amlen y teclyn sy'n glanhau'r gotsan
So. New kids, halfway through the great American experience and everything's all quiet. They say no news is good news, but it's also boring to Blog about. The truth is I could blog every little detail and in twenty years time I could look back and think "Shit! I remember that!", but that isn't quite the point. The blog medium seems to me to be about the here and now, the immediate, and then have people respond. It's a soundboard for the little details that are interesting. So, it's not really that interesting that my excitement levels are peaking for The Dark Knight next monday and the trip to the next largest town for comfy seats and a big screen. Some may say my priorities are misplaced.
How about this then smart-guy - one of my campers ate beef today for the first time since he was five. The other day he was upset at dinner because, in his words, "there wasn't any food for him". I tried convincing him that eating beef wasn't the end of the world but he was having none of it. This evening, with only hamburgers to eat he happily gave it a try and actually liked it. I was very proud. All of my new kids are amazing. Visiting weekend came and went like a breath of fresh air, plus I made eighty dollars in tips! It's nice to actually meet the people who normally look after these kids. The parents were a grateful bunch and not just in a financial sense. One actually gave me a business card. I was stunned. Some of the kids had such a good time first four that their parents agreed to let them stay for second four. It was incredible seeing the kid's excitement and the parents' appreciation.
How about this then smart-guy - one of my campers ate beef today for the first time since he was five. The other day he was upset at dinner because, in his words, "there wasn't any food for him". I tried convincing him that eating beef wasn't the end of the world but he was having none of it. This evening, with only hamburgers to eat he happily gave it a try and actually liked it. I was very proud. All of my new kids are amazing. Visiting weekend came and went like a breath of fresh air, plus I made eighty dollars in tips! It's nice to actually meet the people who normally look after these kids. The parents were a grateful bunch and not just in a financial sense. One actually gave me a business card. I was stunned. Some of the kids had such a good time first four that their parents agreed to let them stay for second four. It was incredible seeing the kid's excitement and the parents' appreciation.
Sunday 6 July 2008
Fourth of July
So, I got to experience The American Holiday the other day. For the past week there have been fireworks going off all around the lake. The day itself dawned bright and early, just like most other days. I keep expecting it to rain but it never does. I can't quite understand how there can't be overcast days... it just doesn't make sense! How can a place be sunny pretty much constantly? One of the Aussies was funny - on the one day that it did rain he was actually shocked, he couldn't understand how much water could fall from the air. I told him he had no idea and never to visit the UK, the shock may be too much for him.
Anyway, July Fourth/Fourth of July. It started off pretty badly actually. The Director's been breathing down my neck to get the totem-pole finished when there's around six weeks left to get it done. The implication that I was doing nothing got to me a little bit. Not only that but the kids were being little snots when it came to morning clean-up, so I wasn't in the best of moods. But when lunch time rolled around the kitchen staff set up tables on the lawn and served foot-long hotdogs with luminous green relish, a pasta salad and cookies decorated in red, white and blue. The sheer American-ness of the whole thing cheered me up, it was wonderful. So, we ate outside in the sunshine, the kids played and I took some pictures.
Later that evening they had a social with a local girls' camp. A bunch of DJs came with an enormous PA system, decks, a stage - the whole kit and caboodle. One of them was a big fat white guy who held his headphones at a jaunty angle, another was a skinny black guy who had a baseball cap at a jaunty angle and the third was another white guy who thought he was Justin Timberlake. They put on a good show, but my oh my did my cynical British self laugh at them. What a bunch of wallies. In the end the international staff hogged the dance floor. Despite the fact that four-hundred horny teens were about to combust with excitement, they just couldn't keep up with our moves. Ha ha ha, says I.
In general though life dribbles by as ever. The days still go by fairly quickly, today is Sunday and despite the hair-loss over super-cabin-cleanup it'll go by pretty quickly too. Last night was awesome, Cabin Nine came in and helped out the little guys with clean-up. I know they were going for Honour Cabin again and were sucking up a bit, but they were really nice about it. Yesterday was a bit trying in another way. One of our campers got caught going through our stuff. We weren't surprised, to be honest, but we knew that our reaction to this incident had to be more serious than normal so we took the offender to the office to see the Director. He's a strange kid. His maturity is about a year off his age - he's eight but he acts like a seven year-old at times. His default reaction is to cry whenever he doesn't get his way. My default reaction is to be stern. It's one of those strange situations where he isn't ready for camp yet, but what he needs is to stay here and get all his bad home habits replaced. The tragic thing is he can be really nice, generous, thoughtful etc. but his default reaction is to lash out. I may as well mention the letters situation while I'm on the subject. In the end I managed to write positive stuff about all of the kids I was writing for. I sat them down, asked them what they were enjoying and concentrated on those. The truth is there isn't a single nasty kid in the cabin, as such. I think a few of them have the potential to become nasty, but on the whole they're just young and a little spoiled.
Looking forward to the week ahead - well, this is the last week of First Four - which basically means I'm pretty much halfway through the American adventure. A lot of the kids in my cabin will be going home next weekend, many of their parents will be coming up to either collect them or stay for the weekend. The following week the ones that have left will be replaced and then the fun starts all over again. I think we're losing a hundred kids but gaining a hundred and fifty for second four. About five or six from my cabin will be staying, which is nice.
Anyway, July Fourth/Fourth of July. It started off pretty badly actually. The Director's been breathing down my neck to get the totem-pole finished when there's around six weeks left to get it done. The implication that I was doing nothing got to me a little bit. Not only that but the kids were being little snots when it came to morning clean-up, so I wasn't in the best of moods. But when lunch time rolled around the kitchen staff set up tables on the lawn and served foot-long hotdogs with luminous green relish, a pasta salad and cookies decorated in red, white and blue. The sheer American-ness of the whole thing cheered me up, it was wonderful. So, we ate outside in the sunshine, the kids played and I took some pictures.
Later that evening they had a social with a local girls' camp. A bunch of DJs came with an enormous PA system, decks, a stage - the whole kit and caboodle. One of them was a big fat white guy who held his headphones at a jaunty angle, another was a skinny black guy who had a baseball cap at a jaunty angle and the third was another white guy who thought he was Justin Timberlake. They put on a good show, but my oh my did my cynical British self laugh at them. What a bunch of wallies. In the end the international staff hogged the dance floor. Despite the fact that four-hundred horny teens were about to combust with excitement, they just couldn't keep up with our moves. Ha ha ha, says I.
In general though life dribbles by as ever. The days still go by fairly quickly, today is Sunday and despite the hair-loss over super-cabin-cleanup it'll go by pretty quickly too. Last night was awesome, Cabin Nine came in and helped out the little guys with clean-up. I know they were going for Honour Cabin again and were sucking up a bit, but they were really nice about it. Yesterday was a bit trying in another way. One of our campers got caught going through our stuff. We weren't surprised, to be honest, but we knew that our reaction to this incident had to be more serious than normal so we took the offender to the office to see the Director. He's a strange kid. His maturity is about a year off his age - he's eight but he acts like a seven year-old at times. His default reaction is to cry whenever he doesn't get his way. My default reaction is to be stern. It's one of those strange situations where he isn't ready for camp yet, but what he needs is to stay here and get all his bad home habits replaced. The tragic thing is he can be really nice, generous, thoughtful etc. but his default reaction is to lash out. I may as well mention the letters situation while I'm on the subject. In the end I managed to write positive stuff about all of the kids I was writing for. I sat them down, asked them what they were enjoying and concentrated on those. The truth is there isn't a single nasty kid in the cabin, as such. I think a few of them have the potential to become nasty, but on the whole they're just young and a little spoiled.
Looking forward to the week ahead - well, this is the last week of First Four - which basically means I'm pretty much halfway through the American adventure. A lot of the kids in my cabin will be going home next weekend, many of their parents will be coming up to either collect them or stay for the weekend. The following week the ones that have left will be replaced and then the fun starts all over again. I think we're losing a hundred kids but gaining a hundred and fifty for second four. About five or six from my cabin will be staying, which is nice.
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