“We wait ten months for two." For anyone who went to overnight camp, I think this saying describes our lives perfectly. As a kid, I would wait ten months for two. From the second I walked into my house each August to the moment I said goodbye to my parents and got on the bus each June, I was anxiously waiting, planning and thinking about my next summer at Camp Poyntelle. Month by month, I waited and waited until that Sunday in June when I wound once again sit on the camp's bus.
The bus ride to camp was filled with as much anticipation as watching The Notebook and waiting until Noah and Allie finally get back together. Like this: turning down the dirt road was “Why didn’t you write me,” seeing the CPLV sign, “I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year,” driving past the gates “It wasn’t over. It still isn’t over,” pulling into camp and seeing all of the counselors and campers waiting on the basketball courts cheering: *passionate kiss*. Getting off the bus, seeing all my friends, and meeting my new counselors was always so exciting. Even though I hadn’t seen some of them in months, or even since the previous summer, it was like we had been together all year.
My camp friends are truly my best friends. They are the kind of friends that you may only talk to every so often, but we share an indescribable bond. Friends come and go, but camp friends are forever. It’s hard not to create this bond when you are living beside the same people for seven weeks, day and night, summer after summer. We were with each other through our awkward phases… braces, blue mascara, untamed hair, baby fat, underwear lines, sugar lips with no bras, etc. We were with each other through our preteen, bitchy phases; through Shabbat grams, color wars, boys, boys, boys. And we were with each other through the transition from camper to counselor. We stayed together through it all and I couldn’t be happier to call these people my best friends.
My friends and I were the bunk that every counselor was scared to have, and every age group hated. We were named “G-Evil,” and for good reason. When the counselors put us to sleep each night, it was "girls gone wild." We would wait five or so minutes, and when we knew the staff was gone, we would go crazy. From breaking the bathroom door, to laughing so hard that we couldn’t even make it to the bathroom to pee, to stuffing our stomachs with pillows and pretending we were sumo wrestlers, the nights when the counselors were gone gave me and my cabin some of the most unforgettable laughs and memories. And while we got yelled at by counselors for being too loud at night, we still loved the thrill of hearing a counselor walking up the steps and us running to our beds pretending we were sleeping. And, of course, what would a night be without late night eating (I guess that trend started way before freshman year of college). We would all get out our hot pots that were hidden under our beds and make easy mac or cup of noodle. It was a tragic day when our easy mac supply would run out, and the next day mom and dad most definitely had a letter coming to them:
"Hi mom! Camp is sooooooo great. We won our softball game yesterday! I did a lake swim. It was really hard but fun! Anyways, the food is sooooooo bad please send me more easy mac! But make sure you put magazines on top so when the counselors check the package they don’t see food. Ps, I love you soooooo much!! Can’t wait to see you on visiting day!!!! Please don’t forget the easy mac. Love you again!!!!
Love your favorite daughter!
Lissie"
What's funny is that I loved camp food. From grilled cheese and tomato soup every Wednesday, to cookouts on Thursday nights, to pizza bagels each Friday. Come mealtime, it was like we hadn’t just eaten a jar of icing and pretzels (what we called “spooey”) instead of going to our activities. We were savages, to the point where we got in trouble everyday for eating before the hamotzi, borrowing other table’s cereals but never giving them back, and throwing out cold fries. Whoops.
The dining hall was not the only place where we got in trouble. The lake was definitely a top contender. Pretending we had our periods so we didn’t have to participate in swim instruction, going on sailboats when we didn’t know how to use them and getting stuck on the other side of the lake, and “forgetting” to put our buddy tags on the buddy board. But the lake was one of my favorite spots at camp, even though I was a constant pain for the lifeguards. From the floating trampoline, to tubing on the motor boat, to lake swims, we conquered our fears together. My favorite memory at the lake was "Burn Out." On the last night of camp after the sun had set, the whole camp would go to the lake and watch a slideshow of the summer. Counselors would give speeches and put candles in the lake after they spoke. The whole camp was crying until the candles stopped burning.
Another one of my favorite camp traditions, and one I'll always remember, is my bunk tradition. On the last night of each summer, we would all combine our mattresses, blankets, and pillows into one jumbo bed on the floor of our cabin. No matter our differences throughout the summer, sitting on that bed on the last night of camp defines happiness for me. These were my best friends, I was in my favorite place, and for one last night, we were able to laugh, cry, and smile about the memories we created that year. It was a bittersweet ending, but I wouldn’t picture my last night of summer any other way.
I no longer go to camp, and knowing that campers are leaving this Sunday for the best time of their lives fills me with an extreme amount of jealousy but also excitement. I wish I could be in the footsteps of those soon to be campers, and experience that first moment of stepping off the bus and seeing all of my friends. The happiness camp gave me, the person it made me, the lessons it taught me are things that I will hold with me forever. Camp Poyntelle, you will forever have a piece of my heart and I am so grateful for the memories, friendships, and learning experiences you gave me.
