Post-Workcamp Update!

Well, the worktrip is over, and I'm glad to say that my fears and misgivings proved to be totally unfounded. The trip went very, very well. The fact that I "could have been doing something else" totally didn't bother me while I was there, especially since I was so busy, and the worries about behavior of the boys was... well, they were rowdy, but a well-behaved rowdy. In other words, they knew when to draw the line. I was very impressed. It was great representation of Ithaca -- especially considering that our group represented 2/3 of the Asian population and 2/3 of the African population of that 400-person camp. By which I mean we had two Asian kids and two African kids.

Personally, I had a great time. Again, it was a spiritually "filling" experience to go to, and that's something I don't get quite enough of lately. My church is full of very nice, wonderful people, but I just don't get much out of the services there. Anyway, the camp really gave me a little spiritual boost, and I'm feeling pretty good now.

Our work crew was, to borrow a phrase from my co-adult-leader, "the bestest" (luv ya, Sarah!). There were originally six of us, but one transferred to another site that needed the extra hands more than ours. The remaining five were a great crew -- John, Kelly (I'm not sure of their exact ages), and Jordan, age nineteen, made up the "camper" contingent. The "adults" were Sarah, age 23, and myself, age 25. w007 -- so similar in ages, we got along great! Our worksite... well, I like to think of it as "Murphy's Law incarnate." It was supposed to be a straightforward replacing of a mobile home's skirting, but it seemed like every time we started in on a job, something else cropped up. A lot of the trouble stemmed from the fact that the house was in a swamp, with really loose, sandy soil, and was not placed on a concrete slab, like it should have been. Here's some of the issues we came up against:

• The ground had eroded and washed down an incline into the old skirting on one corner of the trailer. This pushed the old skirting inward at a weird angle and made it necessary to dig the sand out before we could remove the old wood -- and when we did, it was all rotten and fell apart in our hands.
• A ramp and set of stairs preventing access to pieces of the old skirting. This was solved by a neighbor, Gene, who came by and just yanked them both off the side of the trailer and bought wood to build a bridge to the door, so the resident could get in and out of the place.
• The resident complained that her floors were no longer level. We asked the experts. One said they'd bring in a jack and level it out again, so wait on the construction of the new skirting. The other said a jack was unnecessary -- the trailer wasn't shifting, the floors were rotting, so there was nothing we could do but go ahead with the building.
• We were supposed to insulate the new skirting. Hey, it's Maine, and the winters are harsh. We delayed the construction of the new skirting to wait for the insulation... which never showed up.
• Thursday morning, a giant dirt pile showed up in the driveway, to fill in low spots in the driveway and around the property. Before we could get anything else done, we had to move parts of the pile.
• Friday morning, it rained. Hard. We had to cut and place the new skirting, but how would we do that without any shelter or saws that aren't electric? Well, Kelly solved that by building us a nice tent out of a tarp and spare lumber, and a neighbor kindly donated some hand saws, so we got it done. By the time we were ready to cut plywood (which definately needs a power saw), it had stopped raining and dried up!
• In removing some of the skirting, we found a water leak. That would explain why the bathroom sink only came out as a trickle. But there was nothing we could do about it, which really bothers me.

Despite all these hurdles, our crew really bonded. We didn't freak out and start hating each other; we took it in stride, with good humor, and really got closer. Plus, we got the job done in the end.

Friday night, however, was not a good night at camp. Lights-out was at midnight, an hour later than usual, and a lot of the kids had planned to use that extra time to play a game called "Pony." In case you're too lazy to read the article on the other side of that link, it's a dancing game. The most succinct way of describing it I've heard is this:

• One large circle forms. A smaller group is picked and moves to the middle of the circle.
• The singing starts.
• The group on the inside of the circle has to run around and find somebody on the outside of the circle to hump.
• Once you've humped somebody, you move to the outer circle.
• Once you've been humped, you move to the inner circle and have to find somebody else to hump.

Get the idea? "It's a great way to meet people," as the kids say. Personally, I don't really have a problem with this game. It's far tamer than some of the stuff that goes on during prom night, and when the game's over, the kids go to their rooms without much fuss. However, on Friday night, some of the youth ministers had gotten offended, and so the workcamp staff broke the game up. Hoo-boy, that made the kids upset. Some set off firecrackers in protest (heehee!), others just milled around. Eventually, it came out that some students went down to the dugouts for sex (as one of the leaders put it, "Well, it's probably a seventeen-year-old boy, so it probably only lasted, like, one minute, and the girl probably was like, "What?"); some other kids got drunk -- with their group leaders. Yeah, you read that right.

So, to sum up: some youth leaders were overzealous and ruined the last night for the kids, while other youth leaders were setting about the worst example possible for their kids. I guess it takes all types.

Despite that, the workcamp was a great experience. The kids really enjoyed themselves (particularly on the ride home -- Matt? 1,111 head-shots with a kickball? You're NUTS!), and we got a lot accomplished.

Three other things about the trip to mention here: first, on our afternoon off, our group went out to Quoddy Head State Park, the easternmost point of land in the United States. Really pretty area, nice pebble beach, etc. Not very exciting for the kids, but it's still pretty cool to say I've been as far East in the country as you can get!

Second, one of our kids got an offer from a record label. He played drums for the evening programs, and really caught Sarah's eye (the other adult from my group). Sarah works for an indie record label that's looking for a young band to back up one of their artists, so she talked to our drummer about possibly auditioning for the gig. I hope he takes the audition, even if he doesn't get the gig -- it'll be a great opportunity for him!

Finally, on our drive home, we got stuck in some small towns in the area around Binghamton, NY. There's been some nasty flooding down there, and a few people have died. We drove down roads that had obviously been under water, we saw people trying to clean up, and we were even warned about the 9:00 pm curfiew. We did finally make it home, but man, those towns weren't a happy sight. Our kids were ready to start another workcamp right then and there... and I'm working on something, actually. But for now, please just send some prayers that direction. They really need the help.

Along the lines of helping those folks, I've already asked for a couple more days off from work so that I can spend some time with the Red Cross efforts in the area (which the Red Cross called me to ask me if I was available. No, I don't just show up and say, "put me to work!"), and I'm supposed to report in on Wednesday morning for an assignment. We'll see how it goes.

The other news I got on my return home is that the really nice place in Trumbull Corners is actually available. Apparently, the other tenant the landlady had lined up fell through. So that caused a lot of confusion for me -- I'd already told someone else I'd rent from him, but if I could get into the place out there in Trumbull Corners, I'd rather live there. So, I agonized over what to do. I don't want to go back on my word, you know? But I'd still rather live in the nicer, larger apartment. Well, you know what happened? The landlady in Trumbull Corners told me she couldn't make a decision for a couple days, because she had a lot of other fish on the line. Now, under different circumstances, I'd just wait, but after what I went through before, I'm not willing to (last time, "a couple days" turned into "almost a month"). I mean no offense or disrespect to the lady -- she's a single mom, working her tail off, and trying to find a tenant. That's enough to make anyone batty. So, rather than complicate things further, I decided to tell her "I'll pass," and called up the other place to arrange a time to drop off a security deposit and pick up some keys. Yay for a return to basement life...