Every summer my older sister and I spent one week at Camp Pamadeva. Weird name huh? I'll break it down for you. Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia. Creative huh?
It is no longer a camp, I am not actually sure what it is anymore, but it haunts my dreams.
I remember just bits and pieces of it. The scary meatloaf. The daily line-up to see if our shorts were long enough. The six inches of sand in the bottom of the swimming pool(?). Bible drills -- which I bombed fantastically. Falling asleep during chapel, once I even fell off the bench...I tried to play it off as tying my shoe, but I have never been good at acting and I was totally busted. I had to sit out of the soccer game.
The bright spot though, and this I remember in vivid detail, was the zip-line.
We would climb up a ladder to the platform, grip the handles and for a full 20 seconds we could fly. We would drop gracefully into a pile of spongy foam mattresses, then run to get in line to do it again.
That all ended the year one silly boy broke both his legs doing it. Something about a liability problem...hmm what is the harm in letting 150 kids have a free for all on a zip-line??
I see nothing wrong with that.
It was fun though.
But anyway. Boys and girls were not allowed and interaction at Camp Pamadeva. This rule was enforced to the point that one time we were on our way to the pool, when some boys ran by. Our counselors made us hide behind trees so they wouldn't see us in our bathing suits.
Better safe than sorry...I guess. Although I think that the fear of boys was instilled in me at a young age, because I avoided them like the plague until my first year of college.
Well, it didn't help that I had my first traumatic boy experience in 2nd grade. I was standing at the front of the classroom during indoor recess when Stephen, a boy I thought was my friend, yelled out "Hey Rebekah, you're pretty..."
I blushed, he continued.