Community: Real Life

Camping hell

Former stage school brat and music video obsessive Luan sees this as the defining year of her life, joining the Camp America scheme only to return home promptly then greeted by a letter of expulsion from The University of North London where she was studying BA Writing.

Luan Goldie is still sore about her time in camping hell, American style. Actually, we don't blame her.

My only fear of leaving Camp Getaway was that I'd one day look back upon my hellish experience romantically (like old people and the war) and miss the great weather, fantastically behaved kids and quaint little cabin.

I was then knocked back into reality by a low flying pig as I recalled the REAL camp experience that will never be forgotten. Supposedly, I was going to an affluent Jewish camp to teach sweet little children performing arts, so imagine my horror when I was told to take a group of screaming nightmares from The Bronx, rock climbing.

A typical day would begin with the welcome speech which comprised of don't go into the woods alone; don't throw your counsellors in the lake and who stunk out the bathroom on the coach? The mugs...sorry counsellors would then take the kids on a range of law suit-inducing activities (like climbing walls, cargo nets or cliffs) or inflatables which usually involved me being trampled within an inch of my life by a 20 stone ten-year-old on a bouncy castle.

My only joy came during the daily disco, which resembled either Top Of The Pops or Boyz In The Hood depending on whether it was suburban or Brooklyn kids. The latter meaning the hardest, most obscene rap records, radio edits of course, not that it mattered as the kids could always be relied on to fill the blanks on songs such as What's your Fantasy and Shake Your Ass.

My only joy came during the daily disco, which resembled either Top Of The Pops or Boyz In The Hood depending on whether it was suburban or Brooklyn kids.

Being English was an annoyance as I was asked constantly if knew The Queen and told to say words like Grass and Coffee which would result in the kids rolling about in hysterics.

The nearest town was two miles away, and comprised a post office, convenience store, and drive thru bank (only in America). An unnervingly small town where passing strangers smiled and said 'good morning' and me being a Hackney girl would snap back 'Do I know you?'

For the kids that rode in at breakfast and out by dinner, it was great for them to see hills and get bitten by bugs, but for this big city bimbo, the novelty of counting trees soon wore thin. As did the staff dinner which was chicken, chicken and chicken. Not to mention the torrential downpours, ticks, skunks, centipedes and every other flesh-eating insect known to man.

My advice for any of you considering camp would be hold no expectations, take pints of bug spray and have a nice stay.

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Updated: 15/01/2009


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