Time Is Such A Funny Thing

It is Saturday afternoon here in Glen Spey, New York, which means that I have officially been here for four days. Funny thing is though, that short time that I have been here feels absolutely immeasurable.

Being here at camp, time feels like we're stuck in a bubble; our own little camp bubble. Here in our camp bubble, meals happen early, and don't wait for you to be hungry. Sleeping in close quarters with strangers feels natural. Talks of drunken memories from college and first date horror stories from high school happen often and late at night. It is in this camp bubble that I've forgotten what midterms, papers, and lack of sleep feels like. It is here in this camp bubble that I've met some amazing people, who (whether or not this camp ends up being a total dud) will make this summer a positive experience, no matter what. While I've only known these people for a few days, in our camp bubble it feels like we've known each other for a lifetime.

I shouldn't be surprised that time has such a different feeling here in New York. The strange and unnatural quality that time can have began to follow me the second my feet walked onto the runway towards my plane. On Monday night, I took a red eye to Newark, New Jersey. By the time we landed at 6:30AM (3:30 California time), my body was unsure what to feel.

Thankfully, instead of being forced to deal with my jet lag by having to function normally, I had to spend the next seven hours waiting (in the form of sleeping and eating, followed by more sleeping and more eating) in the airport for everyone else to get there, including our ride which would be taking us to camp. Finally by 1PM, every bag had been claimed, every girl had been located, and our van had arrived. After a very short time getting to know these six girls, we were off, unsure of what to expect, but absolutely excited to find out.

In a trek that was supposed to take two hours, we clocked in at almost four hours, thanks to a combination of road kill, GPS failure, and misfortune. About one hour into the journey, while participating in lively conversations about tattoos, my ear drums nearly popped when one of the girls screamed at the top of her lungs. In what felt like milliseconds after that moment of sheer volume, our van suddenly tapped something hard, on our right side. What followed felt similar to that moment after you've been spun around a baseball bat a few times, and now have to look up and figure out what the hell was going on. Thankfully, that feeling didn't last long, as some very vocal girls began to scream: "WE JUST HIT A DEER! A. DEER!!"

Our driver (another specialist counselor) pulled over in a gas station and turned the van around so we could began to inspect the damage from afar. What we found was that the deer was no where to be found, and in his place was what we initially thought was an animal limb, but actually turned out to be parts from the bumper of our van, including the New York license plate.

After calling someone at camp to verify that, yes, driving without a front license plate is in fact illegal, our van went back to the site of deer murder, and participated in a game of: can we park on a highway, run out and grab our license plate, and not join the deer in roadkill heaven, all in a matter of 5 seconds. After getting the license plate, confirming that the deer was in fact dead, and solidifying my fear of the movie Bambi, we continued on in our journey, still reeling at the fact that in Deer v. Van, we had come out victorious.

After the deer scenario, I didn't think the story of Megan Travels to Camp could get any more interesting, but thanks to our sheer dependence on the GPS technology (followed by its inevitable failure) we found ourselves driving aimlessly in the Catskills Mountains, attempting to figure out which direction was north.

Finally, after traveling for much too long, we arrived at camp. It all felt like a dream, like we were going to get out and find out that we had in fact gotten the wrong directions from the kind mountain folk, and we were going to have to get back in the van and drive for another 4 hours. But, it wasn't. It was all real, and it was my home.

The rest of the day was quite uneventful. After our first meal, we spent the night getting to know the international counselors, where I successfully mastered using my British accent (so long as it remained to three to four word sentences such as "to the loo" and "is that your shirt?") .

Although the past few days have been pretty boring (I can now say with confidence that I AM the CPR Master), I wouldn't have had it anyway. As of now, only the lifeguards and ropes course people are here, and I am having an absolute blast getting to know them. I can't imagine what it's going to be like when the counselor count quadruples in size this weekend, and then all 750 campers arrive next weekend. Although camp is small in size and still pretty tame, this summer is promising to be one that will change my life forever. If anything, the people I have met, and the others I am sure to met in the near future, will broaden my scope on life and give me so much to learn.

For now, there's not much to report. But that is sure to change soon. And I cannot wait.

Until then,
Megan