Camp

Camp Cacahuatique... we hold you in our hearts... and when we think about you... it makes me wanna....



One of the coolest things about where I live is that it claims ownership to a state-sanctioned natural reseve, a Protected Area, if you will. There are no homes there, just a lodge where workers routinely stay. These workers passionately drudge: clearing out the trails, picking up litter, keeping the place breathtakingly gorgeous... and trying to entice more gente to come. It really is one of my favorite things about Los Cims, and I go there often; you can really get some amazing vistas.



What a shame it is then that so few Cimientonians (?) actually do go. Okay, I get it... a lot of people here have to hike all day anyway... or work in the fields all day... so adding an extra workout just to enjoy some pretty scenery isn't exactly prime on their list. But still, if I were a kid here, I'd spend every free minute exploring arund the Area Protegida, even if so few real kids here actually do.



The Area Protegida also boasts tents and sleeping bags, even more enticement for the locals. But they so very rarely get used. Upon learning of these handy resources... it didn't take long for me to realize that this place is quite perfect to host a weekend camp. So a few weeks ago, that's exactly what I did. I got a $500 grant from an NGO called Kids-to-Kids, that funds Peace Corps projects aimed at educating children. The funding was easy, thr brunt of the work came in planning the agenda and getting all of the supplies. But with a little effort, I had arranged to bring kids from my community, and drive in kids from 2 other communities where the two closest volunteers to me live. I also invited three other volunteers to help out.





As for the theme, I went for environmental education... not exactly a priority for my program (Rural Health and Sanitation), but definitely something find important. The age group I aimed for was between 10-14... any younger than that, I tend to find annoying. In the end we had 6 volunteers, 22 kids, and at any one time 2 workers at the Area Protegida.



A jammed-packed weekend and exhausiting, but, if I do say so myself, a glowing success. I had a lot of fun, and most things ran smoothly. There were some minor setbacks, to be expected, but in retrospect, what I found funny was that what I anticipated to be problematic wasn't, and the things I thought would be a cinch, weren't.



To illustrate my last remarks...



FLOP: Getting girls. I had heard of other camps volunteers had done previously, and many had been either all girls, or all boys.... co-ed ones are a littel trickier. In a country where a girl's virginity is about as sacred as the pope's cloak, parents are pretty paranoid about having their daughters sleep away from home (ironically teenage pregnancies are frightfully high here).

But, smug Laura that I am, did not think this would be a problem for me. I live with two girls (my sisters Yesica and Sulma), and right next door are my two "cousins" Beti and Meli- I thought they were sure things... but how wrong was I. Sulma flat out refused to come, not because Mari (her mama) didn't want her to, but because she didn't want to leave her mama. "Oh come on Sulma, you're 12 years old, and your mom wants you to go. And it'll be so much fun, it'll zoom by, you'll be back before you know it." But alas, no, the bond between mother and daughter was too strong.

Then, an unfortunate event wreaking with machismo prevented Beti and Meli to come. Carmen their mother (also the mother of asshole baby Alexander, remember?) quickly approved, but it got leaked to their dad in The States and he, for some God-awful reason, said no! This creap, Asuncion, I believe his name is, has basically abandoned his family. Aside from the occassional $50 bucks he sends for his kids sake, he's nonexistant as a father. He has told Carmen he doesn't love her anymore, told his kids that he's not coming back, and has a new woman and kids with her now in the U.S. So, I felt that his opinion had little merit. "What if they still go, even with his disapproval, what would he do?" I asked Carmen, pleading. "He'll stop sending money, Laura." ...... "Oh...."

I even talked to the chode on the phone, explaining that I've lived with Mari for a year, Beti and Meli are like family to me, there will always be adult supervision, the boys and girls will sleep in separate tents, Carmen can come and check up on them if she wants to.... NOTHING! This was one stubborn dead-beat.

So, the day before the camp I was scrambling to find more girls. I managed to get some replacements, but I felt pretty bad for Beti and Meli. I told them that next time, not to tell their dad till afterward.

RAVE: I knew we were probably going to be short on sleeping bags, so I was asking nearby volunteers to lend some, knowing the AP didn't have enough. I was really preoccupied about this. I mean, could you imagine in America having a camp without enough sleeping bags for everyone, and the consequent hissy fits that would follow? So when we were divying out bags, I nervously admitted that we were a few short, and that some kids would have to share. Silly me. I forgot that most people here are lucky to share three to a bed, if not, three to a hammock... so sharing two to a sleeping bag caused no complaints. Makes me think Americans can be just a little fussy with their king-size posturepedic beds with six pillows and an eyemask...

FLOP: I assigned different charlas (do you remember what these are...) to each volunteer. Mine was all about different ways if how to manage your trash. One point I enforced and reinforced was, DON'T THROW YOUR TRASH IN THE STREET!

After my charla, we lead a hike- in which we gave snacks for the kids to carry. And whilst enjoying the hike in the protected area, during our environmental camp, they also continued to throw their wrappers in the trail minutes after my charla. Pu chica... when will they ever learn?

RAVE: We built a campfire the second night and introduced the kids to a cherished American dessert... S'MORES. I really enjoyed this part. Most of the kids had never heard of marshmellows- and the fact that you can roast them.... BONUS! They had so much fun burning them, they were fascinated by it. It made me feel like a kid again. And then, when they finally did sink their teeth in... pure bliss. I was happy and proud to introduce this very American tradition, and my oh my, was it a success.


So.... overall, I thought the camp went swimmingly. That even if we didn't transform these kids with a newfound environmental appreciation, that a few might think twice before throwing their bottles in the calle. But more than that, it was a fun, unique experience for all of these kids, many of whom had never spent a single night away from home.

A very satisfying moment was when I got home with Yesica, the only one of the original four girls who I had wanted to go. But anyway, she was foaming with excitement when we returned, spilling the stories non-stop for two hours to Mari and Sulma. Mari was elated... and Sulma... I think just a little bit remorseful for not coming. But hey, what do I know?


Two days ago, April 4th, signified the one year mark of living in Los Cimientos, with Mari, Yesica, and Sulma... and it was the day that I officially moved out. This adjustment has both its pros and cons. I mean, I'll have more of my own space, be able to have guests (PALOMA!!!!), and can cook all of my own food! There also won't be a TV constantly on. But there certainly are some downsides. The room is part of the casa comunal, so privacy may be even more of an issue. My room, although being on the backside, shares a wall with the local tiendita... where a lot of men hang out. I also don't have my own bathroom- there are public bathrooms around the corner that I have to share with, well, the public. And the nearest pila (outdoor sink for all dish, laundry, and bathing purposes), belongs to the house above me, which I have to climb a ladder to get to.

But most of all, I feel like I'm losing my family. I still will visit all the time... but not as a family member, as a visitor. Sheesh.. if I'm this broken up to move across the street, I can't imagine what a mess I'll be in a year when I leave.

And that's all that's left, that's it... one more year.