Camp and the Seven Year Old (Part 1)

Once, I thought it would be a good idea to go to this vacation camp in Seychelles. It was one of those week-long camps where you have games, activities, and stuff like that. The “camp” was in a huge school right next to the beach.

I’d never really stayed without my mom for more than a day or two before this but I was pretty confident in my ability to pull off an entire week alone.

I ended up crying on the first night and told everyone that “My eyes water when I remove my glasses.”
And yes, they believed me.

glass_power

I hope they believed me.
Let’s just pretend they believed me.

The worst part about camp was that you had to wash your own clothes. I had three underpants and I was supposed to wash them after a day or two. Now, since it rained a little almost every evening in Seychelles (and since I was afraid of seeing my underwear get stolen), I resorted to keeping my underwear super dry and rotated it carefully for the entire week.

the_planning

 

Now that I think about it, why would anyone have stolen my underpants? But seven-year-olds are weird, so maybe they could’ve.

If you think that’s gross, you should stop reading, because it gets worse.

One day, while I was climbing down the stairs to go for dinner (which was at 6pm by the way), I saw that everyone was just running past this kid sitting on the stairs. As I approached him, I heard the words, “Poop” and “Sitting in his poop,” flying around.

And sure enough, there was this dude sitting on the stairs with a stench around him that’d have made cow dung feel bad. The next thing I remember was running down the stairs as fast as I could.

I did not have dinner that evening.

The part that I enjoyed the most at camp was folding the sheets in the morning. Now, that might seem weird, but I guess I was a clean freak back then (says the dude who rotated his underwear for the entire week).

I had a Nokia phone with me, and it was supposed to last me an entire week on a full charge. On the second night, my mom called me up, and she was like, “Hi! Looks like you aren’t missing us at all!”

And I, choking and all teary-eyed, just managed a weak, “Yeah,” and cut the call. All the kids around me were apparently waiting for me to cry, so I removed my glasses, and said, “See? Tears come out instantly when I remove my glasses!”


Did the Nokia phone last me the entire week? Did I have any more underwear predicaments?

Part Two

[Check out all my previous adventures in Seychelles here]

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