House Elves

It's the day before the big arrival. Tomorrow, the kids finally get here. It's been a fortnight now and the work has been pretty laid back, well, it's been up and down - a bit like the weather, boiling one second and freezing cold the next. We spent this morning depositing the kids' enormous duffel bags in the Cabins. You wouldn't believe how much these kids bring. And the stupid thing is they don't even bring it, the UPS man drives it all up in a truck and we give ourselves hernias dragging it all across the quad. We are house elves.

The other day my Arts and Crafts partner arrived. Since then we've been getting some stuff ready and things are finally looking ship-shape and ready to go. All the pressure I was talking about before is gone - turns out a lot has been lifting off my shoulders, however, I did make the mistake of putting down on a questionnaire that I kind-of wanted to help out with archery. Guess who got lumped with the responsibility of running the archery? Luckily, there are only four targets and they're ten yards away from the firing line. Not exactly a chore. The timetable looks pretty sweet too, because I can't coach/officiate the sports I don't have to do a huge amount during the day - it's not like I've got six arts and crafts/archery lessons a day. I do have to make the Collegiate Week winners/players bill-board. I've got an elaborate plan to build a totem pole around one of the columns in the Mess Hall. Well, it is the eightieth anniversary of the place.

The American staff also turned up this week and we've moved into our cabins. I was apprehensive about meeting them at first, but it turns out they're great. They're all younger than me by about two or three years and they have a very silly energy about them. They think my accent is the best thing ever and constantly spout pearls of wisdom like "You're a bloody wanker!" and "Bo-llocks!". If you've ever wondered what American youth culture is like in comparison with British youth culture? Different. Very different. There's a whole fake-ID underground scene that makes British fake IDs look like a joke. I keep trying to tell them the difference between England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland, but they just don't get it. America isn't just a country, it's an entire microcosm. The rest of the world seems very, very far away, but it's not a problem because in America you can do anything - it's a self-supporting, economic behemoth. It's like a big, safe pillow.

A description of what my co-counselors describe as "Bumblefuck USA" (that's small-town America to the rest of us). You're driving into town in a really big car. Imagine the biggest car you've ever seen. This one is bigger. I haven't seen a Ford car I recognise yet. I don't even want to describe the KA to them, they may think I'm joking - "Bro, why do you drive shoes?". On both sides of the road are big Stores, bars and Chapels - the speed limit in town is thirty five mph, but on the Highway it goes up to fifty-five, the nutters. Everyone drives slowly, you don't need to drive fast, apparently enormous distances take care of themselves when you're driving like a slug. The town is divided neatly into square blocks, like Milton Keynes but infinitely nicer. The street lamps are old-fashioned ones and the pavements are nice and high - pearly white too, no chewing gum and no litter. On every other lamp is an American flag.

The design of the buildings is old-fashioned, but nothing is older than about fifty years. It's like they want it to look aged and cultured but don't want the hassle of having to maintain old buildings. Having said that the Camp's buildings have been around since the twenties and they're still in top form. The cinema on the main drag through the town has one of those over-hanging porches covered in lights and inside it smells like popcorn. Every now and then a group of bikers drive past on Harleys. I have never felt more safe in the middle of nowhere. AND I haven't seen any guns.

In other news I went out on the lake today, it's huuuuge! Some of the waterfront guys were practicing water-skiing - it was very cool. All the houses along the waterfront are enormous - most are three storeys with at least twenty-odd rooms, maybe more. Every now and then a bald eagle glides by. Bonkers.

So, tomorrow the kids are coming. We got an email from one of the mothers about one of the kids sleep walking, it's dawning on me now that we are actually going to be looking after a group of young kids for the next eight weeks. Looking after, as in their parents aren't going to be there to pick up the pieces if it all gets too much. I feel homesick for them. Anyway, the email was painfully sweet and fairly long, you could tell she was putting a lot of faith and hope in us. It's a strange honour to be trusted so much by someone you haven't met before.

In more other news: I've taken the weekend off from the gym. A bugle calls every morning at ten to eight, I shit you not. I'm trying to stock up on sleep before the kids arrive - I didn't understand the meaning of the word "lie-in" until I was in my teens, so imagine what a bunch of seven/eight year olds are going to be like at six in the morning. At least they go to bed early. I may not get the chance to blog again for a while - I'm constantly in competition with the other staff for the computer.