New York New York

A few years ago I was in New York at a house party talking to a guy about laughing yoga. In later conversation this person also mentioned that he lived in Harlem.

“Isn’t that a really dangerous area to live”? I instantly asked, especially because this guy was white, small and took part in weird things like laughing yoga. If anyone was going to be a target of street crime it would be this crazy Caucasian hippy from Harlem.  

But I was wrong; the guy explained that Harlem is perfectly safe because of something called porch culture. “Even if I go home at 1am you can guarantee there are a dozen people sitting on the steps or porch outside their apartment chatting and socializing”. His basic theory was that the quiet neighborhoods are dangerous; Harlem is busy and therefore safe.

Fast forward to the present day and I am back in New York and walking up a street in Brooklyn. On the corner a man is wearing giant gold chains, a top-hat and big baggy jeans almost hanging round his knees. A car pulls up beside him, a conversation takes place, money is exchanged and then the drug dealer fumbles, drops all his money and four packets of white powder fall on the street. There is a gust of wind and the money is scattered, the dealer’s jeans have slipped round his ankles and he begins running into the street to chase his money. My grandmother would be a better drug dealer than this guy.

I am living in Brooklyn for the week because it is the home of Trish and Tara, friends from Hong Kong. My instant reaction to the neighborhood was that it is unsafe; there are gangs of guys outside buildings and the occasional drug dealer on the corner. But there are also people everywhere, families sit on their porches, local restaurants are packed and children are playing in the nearby church. There are too many people for the area to be classed as anything other than colorful.

Trish and Tara are both studying, Tara is working on a five year programme to gain a PHD and Trish is completing a MA in educational science. When I arrived Tara was staying at her family house so Trish and I had the apartment to ourselves. On the first full day we had a BBQ, sunbathed and drank a few beers, then did similar on the second day but included a trip to the local Laundromat. In the evening we went to Manhattan to have some drinks and basically just relaxed.

There is nothing in particular that I wanted to do in downtown New York, but on day three the weather was unusually clear so I went up the Empire State building and then sunbathed in central park with some counselors from camp. On day four I went to the natural history museum and looked around the shops on Fifth Avenue, the only thing I purchased was a Starbucks mug to add to my collection, everything else was too expensive!

So now it is my final day in NYC and I am packing my bags to go home. I have loved getting to know a different district like Brooklyn and it has been great to see so many friends again. I realized yesterday that this time last year I had just started my attempt to get from Southeast Asia to England by land and sea, I have been very lucky to have experienced such an amazing year and can only hope that my time at university will prove to be as interesting.  

Yellow cabs as seen from the Empire State building

View loooking south with Central Park in the distance

 bx  

Chicago

Horns blaring, people bustling, signs flashing and heat radiating from every surface. There is no refreshing lake to instantly jump in or a walk in freezer to sit*, I am now in Chicago.
I am sitting underneath the John Hancock center waiting for the counselors to return from viewing the city skyline. I nearly decided to join them, but then realized that this would be my fifth visit up there and I already have too many photos.

The journey here was easier than I thought, leaving camp a little bit harder. The final day is always awful, everything has to be taken apart, the dock needs to be rolled in and boats have to be stored in the gym. It’s like destroying summer piece by piece, staff get stressed, older students get tired and the nine year olds get in the way. Thankfully I escaped this process because I got to take kids who won competitions to Hayward to go to the cinema, go-carting and McDonalds. I returned to camp feeling refreshed, relaxed and happy. I was greeted with resentment, frustration and envy.

The final morning arrived and I went for my last 6.45am swim with Sophie. We got to the reeds on the other side and returned in time for breakfast, the kids were excited to go home, the counselors were excited to go traveling. I still had not packed my bags or organized the infirmary, so I was just stressed.
Eventually the bus arrived; I said my goodbyes to Bob, Tony and Sophie, took one last look at the lake and then climbed in the van. I decided not to be too upset; I keep thinking it’s my last time at camp and I keep returning.

I have not created my final video yet because Tony has made one which I have stolen instead. The video is great, but I am having issues uploading it to YouTube, which is why this post is so delayed.

Bx

*There is a nearby lake to jump into, Chicago sits on Lake Michigan, it's just not quite as convenient. And the chef never did catch me cooling off in the freezer, which I did almost daily.

One Week Till Chicago

Tony and Sophie have a much deserved day off today so I am looking after camp. The last time this happened I had two students square off to start a fight, a kid experience an extreme emotional outburst and the bell that keeps the camp on schedule broke and rolled down the hill.

Thankfully today has gone smoothly. I had to rescue a sailboat that was drifting into weeds, but this is normal when you combine strong winds with small kids. Sailboats were crashing into the dock, eight year olds were capsizing and laughing so much they could not get back in the boat and the sailing instructor was staring at me with malice. I see high winds and sailing as the opportunity for fun, the sailing instructors never fully agree.

There is just over a week of camp left and I don’t want it to be over yet. Sophie, Tony and I have been part of a fantastic programme but we don’t have enough time to get everything done, maybe I should go work at an all year round summer camp? The students have also been brilliant. One camper from the sailing class asked me to give her a riddle to solve. I thought about it and said “What’s black and white and read all over”? The answer is a newspaper, but Nia thought about it and replied “a mixed race person bleedin”.

On August 6^th I leave Winter and its local charm to journey south to the big city of Chicago. I am planning on going to New York and maybe Washington DC at some point too. My final thoughts on camp are going to be on a video that will hopefully be uploaded on August 7^th. Between that time I am still having fun and laughing at hilarious kids. 

Kids waiting for the staff parade to begin, candy buckets currently empty

Me as Mr. England, singing the national anthem and being met by booing crowds of kids

 

Bob with Tom on the back of the 4 Wheeler. Tom had poker chips plastered all over his body and the song in the background was Poker Face. Clever.

The dogs dressed up yet again, not happy, slightly humiliated.

Me as Pots and Pans Man. Basically I dressed myself in stuff I could find in the dining room

The Greek Gods

The best Bloody Mary I have ever had, on the Flowage, basically a giant lake where we went tubing and water skiing on our week off. There are bars all round the edge of the lake.

The whole gang during a break from the water

bx

1st Session Video 2010

The students have gone and the mid-session break has started. Keeping the blog updated is really difficult because the camp is fairly remote and the internet is lacking. I have made another video because I can put it together quicker than I can write a blog post, plus it's more fun than always reading text.

On the downside however, I am starting to realise that I am a geek.

Click here to watch the video



bx

Pictures from first session

The week before

On June 21^st at 4.25pm I walked onto the dock and shouted “if I get hit by lightning and die, I swear I will haunt you for the rest of eternity”. Sophie looked up at the black clouds, “its fine, we can swim partway then come back, and it’s only thunder, no lightning”. I joined Sophie at the end of the dock and we both looked down into the dark brown water, I jumped in, Sophie then followed. Team Swim was ready to go.

Then there was a clap of thunder and a camera flash of lightning. The flash could well have been god taking a picture of two stupid people in a lake during a thunderstorm. We looked at each other, turned and ran for dry land.

And it was lucky that we returned, because the students arrived at 4.35pm, earlier than we expected. By this time the storm was overhead and the sky was pure black liquid. One by one students exited the bus and ran for the dining room; the first session had officially started.

A week earlier the weather was slightly more pleasant, camp began to fill up and my isolation with the caretaker ended as quickly as it began. Sophie, Tony and I sat round a dining table with eight new sleepy members of staff. The first thing I talked about was how a large duck was seen to be pulled underwater and killed by a giant fish the previous day. I then told them that a bear had recently been spotted near camp. I was not intentionally trying to scare them but in retrospect I should have kept my mouth shut.

The following day staff training began. The students who attend camp often come from disadvantaged or difficult backgrounds, so specific training is required so staff can teach students good social skills and behaviors. The training and the approach we take is interesting, but not worth recalling on a blog, so I will move on to the visitation of the Alumni.

THE VISITATION OF THE ALUMNI

Imagine a school reunion crossed with a mental asylum and you have experienced an Alumni weekend. Alumni are previous students of the school that our camp is connected to. These old boys kindly organize themselves into a small pack and descend upon camp to tell endless stories about how things were better in their day. They also prepare the camp for operation, and this is a big help, but a few of them need to relearn good behaviors.

The best way to survive an alumni weekend is to keep your head down and try not to laugh. It is a given that some old men will flirt with the young female staff, some will have an ego the size of the entire camp and most will tell ridiculous tales. One story was about how a group took canoes across the lake to a local bar, came face to face with a bear and then journeyed back to camp in darkness.

THE BEAR, THE CANOE AND THE DARKNESS

In England we have a comedy television show called ‘Absolutely Fabulous’. The theme of the episodes usually revolves around a couple of women who drink too much and get themselves into ridiculous situations. I thought of this show as I watched Amy and Jess in a canoe. When they wanted to go forwards, they ended up backwards, sideways or diagonal to the way they wanted to go. It was incredibly funny to watch because they were trying so desperately to communicate and work together, even though they were both a canoeing calamity. I was crying with laughter as we all paddled across the lake towards the bar, and when we finally made it to shore it was decided that the Ab Fab girls should separate for the journey back.

When we arrived at shore we had to walk ten minutes up a gravel road. On the way I heard gunshots up ahead, coming from the bar we were walking towards. The bar currently has a competition where you can win a hunting rifle, perhaps someone had won it.

Finally we reached the bar and the place was buzzing with reports of a bear that had just wandered onto the property. Apparently it was only a baby, and it had been chased away by fireworks, which I had earlier mistaken for gunshots. Sadly we were told that we had missed seeing the bear by only a few minutes, we ordered our drinks and watched a team playing horseshoes in the garden. However, within half an hour though the baby bear was back!!! And with alcohol in our systems it seemed an ideal opportunity to go outside and see how close we could get to it. In real life the little creature was quite cute, and with no scary mother around I got within 30ft of the brown ball of fluff. Sadly it got chased away by fireworks within about half an hour; It was still amazing to be so close to such a wild animal.

After more than a few drinks we made the long journey home. We walked to the canoes in total darkness then floated back to camp. The stars were bright, the mood was good, and the weather was perfect. If the camp operated a risk assessment policy our nighttime activity would have shot through the roof, but we all made it back alive and were soon tucked up in beds ready for another day of training. None of us knew at that time that we were about to experience the floods and storms that marked the arrival of the students.

The Week Past

Updating the blog has been difficult this past week because the new staff have arrived at camp. There has been an intensive period of training and a great deal of entertaining.

The students arrive at camp later today and I am currently in a bar using the internet. I am not sure when my next day off will be because the camp session lasts for 3 weeks, but I will try to update sometime soon.

Some of my highlights this week have been.

• standing 30ft away from a baby brown bear (outside a pub)
• going on a canoe trip accross the lake in darkenss (on the way back from the pub)
• seeing a bald eagle up close (on my way to a pub)
• going on a four hour canoe trip trhough the national forest (on the way to a pub)

There is other news to write about, and I have pictures to upload too, but all this will be documented and posted sometime next week because all these trips to the pub have been keeping me busy. 

bx

PS: Hi to Tyler, my new Italy based reader! :)

Living in a deserted summer camp

Every summer camp has a ghost story, and the one at my camp is ridiculous. The story involves a local woodcutter with one leg called Stumpy; this ghostly character chopped his own leg off in a fit of madness and now roams the forests looking for students to behead.

Every ghost story at a summer camp serves a purpose, and the one at my camp is brilliant. The Stumpy story stops students from wandering off into the forest alone, prevents them trying to run away and ensures that they travel in groups around camp.

When I walk through camp at night I rarely think of Stumpy, but I do think of the student who drowned in the lake in the 1950’s. His body was kept in the ice house for preservation and you can still read official school documents regarding his death. Members of staff have supposedly ‘seen’ the ghost of this boy around camp, but it is a story the students will never hear because it serves no purpose, we don’t need them to be afraid to swim.

For the last nine days I have been living in a deserted 200 acre summer camp with only the caretaker for company. It has actually been more fun than I expected, and I have had plenty of time to study. Despite this, my two most impressive thoughts today occurred outside of a university book. I was swimming across the lake this afternoon when I realized the following.

1.       I should not swim across the lake when the nearest person who can help is miles away and not aware of my location or activity.

2.       I should swim back to the beach, get dressed and make a video of the camp before the season begins. It will give you a break from reading my written words and stop me from nearly becoming a ghost story myself.

So here is my video below.

click: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVlrU9inJ5o

 bx

Aliens, Babes, Cowboys and Dave

“My daughter is just like Dave, she goes where the fun is, or she makes the fun herself”, remarked Ruth as we emptied rainwater from a rowing boat. I briefly looked up the beach towards Dave’s lodge but could not see him, so I carried on scooping out rain water and talking to his sister. I had just told her about the time Dave turned up at a bar driving a monster sized truck, and how he let me race it along the roads at 11pm at night.
Dave and his wife Brenda own a historic lodge which used to be a hideout for legendary Chicago gangsters. There are bullet holes in the walls from poker games gone bad and gun turrets to scare off unwanted visitors. Now Dave and Brenda operate the lodge as a hotel and there is no such thing as an unwanted visitor.

I was at the lodge to help prepare for the first guests of the season. I was supposed to be helping Dave move chairs from the lodge into his truck, but he had got sidetracked working on an invention in the basement with his brother. I could have remained with Dave, except his brother Charlie hunts aliens and Bigfoot; our initial conversation went like this.

Charlie: Have you ever woken up with strange markings on your body and you can’t recall where they came from?

Me: Err, no I don’t think so.

Charlie: So you have never felt that you have been taken somewhere else in your sleep?

Me: No, I can’t say I have.

Charlie: What about during the day at camp when you’re walking around? Do you ever feel that you are being watched?

Me: Nope.

After the first few questions I was fighting to stay composed. Jokes, sarcasm and laughter were all churning up inside me, so I removed myself from the situation to avoid causing offence.













Ruth and I in front of Barker Lake Lodge













The lakefront and boats

Both Dave and Brenda have backgrounds as mysterious as the gangsters that built their property. Nobody knows precise details regarding their previous occupations; nobody knows quite how they ended up in North Wisconsin and nobody knows where their money came from. In addition to the lodge, they have a beautiful house twenty minutes up the road. I sometimes wonder whether Dave and Brenda are direct descendants from gangsters themselves.














View of the lodge from the lake

By the time Ruth and I had scooped the water from the boats the sun had dissolved the clouds and the sky was bright blue. It was impossible to tell that a few hours earlier there had been torrential rain across the whole area. I mentioned this to Ruth, and she began talking about the British fixation with weather.
Eventually Dave emerged from the basement looking like a mad scientist crossed with a lumberjack. “Hey Ben, have you ever met a famous singing cowboy?” He shouted across the beach, “No, can’t say I have!” I shouted back, slightly bewildered. “Well Syd will be arriving soon, and he is going to be in a Hollywood movie next year”! I looked across the boat at Ruth and she looked as confused as I did.

Two hours later all the preparation for the lodge was complete and the whole family moved into one of the next door cabins. Two hours and thirty minutes later I met Syd Masters, singer, songwriter and cowboy.
As I approached Syd Masters I heard him say that “the only red meat I usually eat is stuff that I have shot myself”. He was talking to Brenda about cooking and the comment totally reinforced my stereotype of who I was about to meet. I expected ego, cowboy hat, horse and perhaps even a gun. Instead I met a thoroughly likable guy who has somehow been pulled into the bizarre world of Dave.
I don’t know exactly why Syd Masters knows Dave, but I could tell that they had not known each other long. When people talked to Syd about his career he replied that whilst he can make a living from his music he is only well known in small circles. Someone asked him if it is true that he will be in a Hollywood movie next year, he confirmed this rumor, but explained it was just a small role.

We all sat at a table in the sun drinking beer and watching fish jump in the lake. Brenda cooked us burgers and Dave decided we should go for a boat ride to watch the sunset and see the bald eagle. So that’s what we did.

Eagle in tree

Sunset

Me, Syd Masters, and Ruth















Dave getting in on the action

When we returned from the trip Brenda had started a bonfire and we all crowded round it. Soon more locals joined us who lived on the lake and I was happy to meet some of the older women who call themselves the Barker Lake Babes. They all remembered me when I first visited eight years ago and were soon asking about the camp.

Later that night I mentioned to Brenda that Dave was not drinking alcohol. She replied with her usual comic timing “That man does not need to drink! Drink only seems to inhibit the craziness”! Looking around the fire I had to agree, I was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by talk of aliens, babes and cowboys.

 bx

All About Bob

Bob is the caretaker of the camp and the North Wisconsin version of crocodile Dundee. I first met Bob when I was nineteen years old and he did not talk to me or even seem to like me very much. The reason why Bob never talked to me was because I left the archery targets out on the range overnight and they were attacked by a bear. In my defense the archery targets are shaped like animals, in his defense he had already warned me not to leave them out.

Everyone has a favorite Bob story and mine involves him talking to me in a clearing by a forest. Midway through conversation he pulled out a ridiculous sized knife from his belt and held his other hand up to silence me. I immediately stopped talking and wondered what I had done to piss him off this time. Thankfully over the pounding of my heartbeat I heard twigs snapping in the forest and realized that this was what Bob had detected.

That’s right, in my first summer the prospect of a bear in a nearby forest was more appealing to me than annoying Bob.

So Bob vanished into the forest and left me standing there. Do I wait for him to return? Do I leave? Do I go get help? A few minutes later Bob returned and resumed talking as if nothing happened.

Times have changed and Bob and I are actually good friends now, which is good, because currently it is just the two of us at a very big camp. He has been cooking some incredible meals for me and introduced me to some local bars I never knew existed.

I could write more about Bob, but I have decided to let you judge a book by its cover. Or rather, I’m going to let you judge a man by how he decorates a lodge.

 

Imagine what the Christmas tree looks like… 

 bx

My First Morning at Camp

As I loaded the dead baby deer onto the back of the old blue pick-up-truck I began to fully accept that I was a long way from home. I needed to dump the body far enough away to not attract bears, so I drove the old truck round the circle then climbed up the hill and away from camp. Eventually I found a good spot, so parked the truck and launched the body unceremoniously into the forest.

This was how I spent the first ten minutes of my first morning at my camp. The deer had been killed by wolves nearby and found by the caretaker’s dogs, they were very proud of their discovery and dropped it outside my door.

My second order of business was to pick up my bottle of bear pepper mace from the camp caretaker and go for a run.

And the bear mace bottle contains this useful information.

‘WARNING: Do not seek out encounters with bears. This product is a bear attack deterrent which may protect users in some unexpected confrontations with bears but may not be effective in all situations. Product should be discharged as the attacking bear is charging toward you and is about forty feet away (2-3 seconds from reaching you).’

OK then.

I am not about to go seeking confrontations with bears, but I do question whether I would faint before discharging pepper spray at a charging creature intent on ripping my throat out. Apparently there is a trick to surviving a bear attack, firstly you try to make loud noise and be physically imposing, waving your shirt over your head to make yourself seem bigger etc. If that does not work, and the bear charges you anyway, you have to curl into a small ball, covering your neck with your hands and keeping your forearms at your sides to protect important organs.

I don’t intend on finding out if the pepper spray or the curl into a ball technique works. I am expecting the flexibility of my neck to improve considerably if I keep glancing behind me as often as I did today.

I got back from my run and later that day Bob the caretaker approached me. “The dogs found that baby deer you got rid of again”.

I would ask Bob to get rid of it this time, but he would probably eat it.

bx

P.S. I never did get that bible camp T-shirt.

Not from around these parts

If you want to open a bar in North Wisconsin then here are some things you should know.

1)      Your bar should have a minimum of one dead animal hanging off the wall. Common favorites are fish, deer, elk, bear, fox, squirrel or porcupine.

2)      The color theme of the bar will be brown.

3)      You must have at least five varied neon light signs advertising Budweiser or other such beverages.

4)      The television in the corner of the bar should ideally show hunting shows or sports.

5)      There must be a jukebox and all music should be country western. Themes can vary but usually revolve around loving or losing a girlfriend, truck, or dog.  

6)      Frogs legs can be an item on the menu if you wish.

Over the past few days I have been making regular nightly visits to the bars of North Wisconsin. I am still at bible camp and I am still working hard, but now I have met up with Tony who is the director of the comparatively unbiblical camp where I am employed.

If you are not a local in a bar then you will be stared at throughout the evening and approached by a wide range of colorful characters. Opening lines usually start with a slightly menacing “You aint from around these paaarts arrre ya”? If you have ever seen the film called Deliverance then it is at this point that the banjo music begins to play in the back of your mind.

The first man we met had just got out of jail, he chatted about his love of fishing and he knew of the town in Indiana where Tony grew up. The newly released prisoner seemed to be unemployed, so I asked if he got work taking tourists out on fishing trips. “I aiiint no tooouriiist” came the shocked reply.

For some reason being English in a North Wisconsin bar gives me license to say whatever I want to whoever I want, providing I start the sentence with “Hi, I’m from England, I just wanted to ask you…” I used this tactic to find out why a blonde girl and guy were wearing matching yellow T-shirts that said ‘Divorced and Swingin’, on the back. It turned out that they were part of a local divorcee volleyball team. It also turned out that the girl liked an English accent, because she soon joined Tony and me at the bar.

Then there was the daughter-in-law of the local mayor. She started chatting and telling us about how her husband had petitioned for divorce. She explained this story whilst holding hands with a man I later established was her husband’s brother. If this was not confusing enough, the same lady also started hitting on Tony, naming him ‘the little tan man’.

We circulated from bar to bar (they were all right next to each other) and found toothless locals, flirty bar girls and outrageous drunks with enough character to fill a novel. At one bar we sat watching the hunting channel on television, as a deer slowly expired from a crossbow wound I remarked to the bargirl that the film they had on seemed to have a very sad ending.

“This is mah favorite channel”, she replied, fairly directly

“Hi, I’m from England, do you like hunting?” I backtracked

“yeea!” Aaave been huntin since ah was twelve years old”!

I later discovered the small blonde bargirl liked to eat bear and enjoys shooting deer the most.

And when Tony and I were the last ones left in the bar we decided that it was time to leave. We had to walk 2.5 miles to get back to camp  but less than ten minutes into our journey a pickup truck pulled up alongside us “you guys want a lift back to the bible camp? We live right next door”, it was the owners from one of the bars.

So we climbed drunkenly into the truck and talked to the couple with Harley Davidson tattoos about where we were from and what we were doing at the bible camp. “I need to be clear that we are not employed by the bible camp” Tony stated as we approached the entrance. “Don’t worry hunny, we’ve heard it all before”, replied the wife.

The Massive Organ

For the above to make sense you need to read this post.

I am moving to a different bible camp for additional training and I'm not sure if they have Wi Fi internet, so this could be my last post for a few days.

bx

Life

My life currently consists of.

•  Waking up at 5.50AM to revise for Red Cross exams
• Studying and training in CPR and Emergency First Responder training till 8PM
• Only taking breaks for half an hour at meals

If I have to try and breathe life into these little plastic people one more time I'm going need CPR myself.

Also.

Can you imagine a more over the top caption for the front of a First Aid Training book than this?
















Tomorrow I learn how to deal with a woman giving birth, the role playing should be interesting.

bx