When I first arrived at camp, after a week travelling in Los Angeles, Hollywood and New York, I hated it. I spent my first night in tears with my co-counselors from Britain. It wasn't what the glossy brochures the agencies had showed us said it was going to be.
I would be living in a cabin with six 9-12 year olds - a wooden building with flyscreen for windows, holes in the walls and also home to a nest of mice and a dozen giant spiders. One night I heard five 12 year old girls scream in the cabin - they'd seen a mouse. The biggest problem was that five girls were pointing at five different mice at once! I soon adapted, and within a week fell in love with the place.
I worked my butt off all summer. I was up with the kids around 6.30am, and in bed anytime before midnight. During the night I would be woken up by kids wanting to use the bathroom (an outhouse at the top of a hill) now! And being kids, they couldn't all go at the same time . . . no, they had to wait for me to go to sleep before waking me up again! I got 24 hours off on the weekend to recover and get ready for the next week.
I become an expert at activities I'd never pictured myself doing, like archery, the ropes course and the wall. Also on things I never knew existed, like skunk and smiley faces. I spent a ridiculous amount of time covered in face paint and pink and blue hair as I transform myself into a pirate, a clown, an indian, a rapper and Morticia from the Addams family. I moonlight as a bear and even crawl through a cave on my stomach - never again!
I learnt every cheer and song that has ever been invented, and my two proudest achievements are being able to sing every word to "The Bog" and saying "agaflagafleegaflugaishkanaganiganuga . . . " without even thinking about it.
I set the record straight to the Americans, informing them that my parents are not convicts, I live in a house, I am not related to the Crocodile Hunter, and I do speak English as a first language. At least for the first week anyway. After that I become so sick of the same questions that I just start making stuff up. Plus I have to listen to my co-counselors, Al and Bob as they try and "talk Aussie" (ie: "throw another shrimp on the barbie", "Crikey!" and "a dingo's got my baby").
I was vomited on, cleaned up pee, and dealt with accidents. But I could see what a difference it made to the kids and it was worth it. Even the vomit.
