So, I am officially here and have been for five whole days. The rest of my journey up included dunkin donuts, being stalked by a priest with a dislike for lesbianity within the church (so close to telling him I was off to meet my girlfriend in Middletown) and letting a twelve year old hoist my overly packed suitcase into a man’s car that I have corresponded with twice.
I must admit, the first few days, I was not impressed. There I was cooped up in a wooden cabin on my billytod as the sticky nights rolled in. You may have gathered, my friends, that I’m not the feistiest of people when it comes to creepy situations and after three days my red eyes from sleep deprivation were finally noticed by Karen the Assistant Director and I was shown a similarly creepy cabin- but at least this one had proper walls.
Now my fellow counsellors are here and I’m sat propped up in my once ominous residence surrounded by colourful blankets and bulging suitcases. We had our first day of training today and at last, hurrah! I am enjoying myself! The day was riddled with team building activities that had us going ‘gee whizz, what a great group this is!’ and motivation for when the kids trundle in on Monday. As well as getting to know one another better, we were also introduced to a fine array of ‘camp songs’. All I can say is that I got a little bit too into them and may have slightly pulled a limb somewhere. However, I feel that my greatest contribution to the day was when a group of us were all propped up under the roof of the jungle gym (oooh, how I revel to use these American words in my staunch British context!) and I taught them quite possibly the best game ever, fresh out of girl guide camp:
‘Down in the jungle where nobody goes, there’s a big fat gorilla picking his nose. He picks it and he flicks it, to see where it goes. Who’s gonna get that, who’s gonna get that, who’s gonna get that slimy snot’.
Well, they always did say the British bought class to every situation.
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