The Camp Me

As I led campers in parents in a boisterous rendition of “Bananas of the World” (video of randoms singing it less enthusiastically here), and screamed at about 80 moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins, and – most enjoyably – grandparents to vomit their bananas, I realized that this NOT the American me.  This was the Camp me.  I don’t know if anyone in the States would believe what I was doing, and I didn’t really believe what I was doing.  But I was jumping around, shouting (aka Going Bananas), and totally comfortable doing it.

During my first two years I’d been able to mesh well with my group (as long as they were at least a little bit interested in camp).  That was my strength.  I was good at leading morning classroom activities.  But this year I also felt good about running afternoon Olympic activities and doing the shows, which I did not feel confident about before.    

And since now I’m getting really into linking these videos that can give a taste of the job, here’s what an ACLE warm up circle looks like.  Pretty similar to any other camp circle, except that you have to explain what everything means and go really slowly at first to at least give them a shot at getting pronunciation right.

But back to that show.  The structure of shows is pretty standard.  Directors introduce the show, kids sing a song together, groups perform their shows from youngest to oldest, tutors sometimes lead campers and parents in a loud camp song, tutors present kids with diplomas.  In past years there were usually technical difficulties and shows would rarely run smoothly, but somehow all three this year ran super smoothly. 

The pajama party show went well, although one girl said a line way too soon, interrupting the first murder, but the killer figured it out and just murdered the first girl at the same time as the second.  And when they lined up at the end, they held the boy was part of the hand-holding/raising.

As for next year… After last year I didn’t think there was any way I’d return, since I would have a job through early August.  Two years of ACLE is normal, but three is pretty rare.  Even after deciding to go back this year, I wasn’t sure it was the right call.  I wasn’t sure until my first day of camp this year. 

After this year, I think that if there is any way to do it again next year, I will, even if just for a few weeks again.  However, I hope that I won’t be able to do it again.  I hope that I’ll have a job that makes it impossible.  But if I don’t, I would love to go back to camp, meet new families, and see old friends.

Pajama Party Murder Mystery

I’m working on my final summer post, but I thought I’d share my script for the last show.  At one week camps I spend a good part of Tuesday night writing the script.  The kids come up with the basic story, and sometimes the entire story, and I make it into a show.  I pay attention to which kids have more lines, I make sure everyone has 2-6 lines that they’ll be able to memorize in two days.  Sometimes they’re based on stories, like Grease, and sometimes they’re totally original, like this one.

In case you’re confused by the song in the middle, we sing a camp song with the same melody about a Ford Escort, a Mini, and a Ferrari.  I found this random video of it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sic2YRLEBqw  One of my co-tutors the week before changed the words for her Sherlock Holmes show, and I stole it.

Scene 1: The Party at a Big House

(Party Girls and Killer enter and dance to “Judas” in pajamas)

PG #3: This is the best pajama party ever!!!!

PG #6: I love you girls!!

PG #1: (Looks like she has to go to the bathroom)  One second!  I must go to the toilet!

PG #2: Let’s take a break and then dance more!!!!!

(Party Girls and Killer exit)

(PG #1 enters the bathroom)

(Killer jumps on PG #1 and stabs her.  Killer runs back to Party Girls).

(Party Girls and Killer enter)

PG #4: Let’s watch a movie!!

PG #5: I want to watch Twilight!  I love Twilight!

PG #2: I’m thirsty, I need a Coca Cola!

(Lights go off)

PG #5:  Why are the lights off?

(PG #2 walks to the kitchen, Killer sneaks out behind Party girls)

(Killer jumps on PG #2 and stabs her) 

PG #2:  AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

(Killer runs back to Party Girls)

Killer:  What was that?!?!??!

PG #3:  I don’t know!!  Let’s go to the kitchen!

(Party Girls and Killer run to kitchen)

PG #5:  OH MY GOD!!!  Sofia is dead!!!

PG #6:  And where’s Teresa?!  Isn’t she in the bathroom?!

PG #3:  I don’t know!!  Let’s go to the bathroom!

(Party Girls and Killer run to the bathroom)

PG #5:  OH MY GOD!!  Teresa is dead!!!

PG #6:  We must call the police!

(PG #4 calls the police)

Police #1:  Hello?

PG #6:  Emergency!  Two of my friends are dead!  Come quick!

Police #1:  We’re on our way!

Scene 2: Police called in, they bring in Sherlock and Watson

(Police #1,2,3 enter)

Police #2:  What happened here?

PG #4:  Two of our friends are dead!

Police #2:  Hmmmmm, any suspects?

PG #3:  No!!!  We are the only people here!

Police #3:  I don’t think we can solve this case alone.  It seems like a case for…

Police #1/2/3:  SHERLOCK HOLMES!!!

Party Girls, Killer, Police:

A Sherlock Holmes, A Sherlock Holmes

A Killer, Killer, Killer

And A Sherlock Holmes

A Sherlock Holmes, A Sherlock Holmes

A Killer, Killer, Killer

And A Sherlock Holmes

Mystery! Mystery!

A Killer, Killer, Killer

And A Sherlock Holmes

Mystery! Mystery!

A Killer, Killer, Killer

And A Sherlock Holmes

(Sherlock Holmes and Watson enter)

Police #1:  Hello Sherlock and Watson!  We need help!

Police #2:  Two girls were killed and we don’t know who the killer is!

Sherlock:  Don’t worry, let me see the crime scene.

(Sherlock and Watson walk around)

Watson:  I think I found something, Sherlock!  (Picks up hair) Look at this hair.

(Sherlock inspects the hair)

Sherlock:  Watson, check this hair with your computer.  But first, I need hair from every girl here!

Party Girls:  (Gasp!!!) 

(Watson cuts hair from all the girls’ heads and runs tests for each girl)

Watson to PG #3:  It’s not your hair…

PG #3:  Phew!

Watson to PG #4:  It’s not your hair…

PG #4:  Phew!

Watson to PG #5:  It’s not your hair…

PG #5:  Phew!

Watson to PG #6:  It’s not your hair…

PG #6:  Phew!

Watson to Killer:  IT’S YOUR HAIR!!!

Sherlock:  ARREST HER!!!

(Police handcuff Killer)

(All bow)

THE END

Mean Girls/Missing Persons Camp

(Yeah, I’m in Chicago, but let’s pretend I’m not)

Overall, this last camp was pretty good.  My class loved all the songs and games I taught them, and they were incredibly silent when working in their books.  But there was one boy, most accurately described as a computer geek with poor social skills, who often sought physical resolutions to social problems. And the girls were relentless.  They openly teased him and whenever we practiced the group bow at the end of the show, it always took 10 seconds before anyone would hold his hand.

(Pictured- The soccer-playing dog) I’d imagine it’s difficult to address bullying in a monolingual environment.  It’s pretty much impossible in the ACLE environment when a tutor doesn’t speak fluent Italian.  The directors lectured the girls every day but they couldn’t be in class all the time and my Italian is nowhere near good enough to address these situations, even when I can tell what’s going on.

(Pictured - Montepulciano) On Wednesday at one point he pulled me out of the classroom and brought a helper over (we have teenage helpers at camp).  Through the helper, he told me that he didn’t want to be alone in class anymore and that he knew I couldn’t understand what they were saying to him but that someone had to do something.  I did the most I thought I could, made sure he was a part of set painting and at least felt included in the games.  But these were band-aids that quickly peeled off.

(Pictured - The Foiano staff) There was a similar problem in the middle class of 9-10 year olds.  There were several boys in that group but three of them stuck with each other and one was left for abuse by the girls in that class.  They passed a note around saying they would bash his teeth in (which the directors laughed off, I still don’t understand), even though he was a really sweet kid.  So he and the boy in my group became friends (at least for a day or two), even though they were totally different personalities.

(Pictured - Most of my class, boy missing) I really did enjoy the kids at the camp for the most part (especially after last week...), but I think the bad times in Foiano are more interesting/memorable.  On Friday I was supervising all the kids at the beginning of lunch, which is hard given that it was a big school with lots of escape routes from the central courtyard.  I saw from afar that one of my girls was near the fence to the park behind the school, outside of the courtyard.  When I got closer, I saw that in fact four of my girls were already behind the fence, climbing up a steep sandy hill.  I yelled at them and told them to come back, which they did.  But to return they had to step on top of a wobbly chainlink fence (presumably how they got over in the first place), then onto a more sturdy gate, before jumping on the ground.  It’s hard to describe, but it was NOT SAFE.

We’d had a lot of issues at this camp with kids wandering into the gym or up to the classrooms unsupervised, but nothing super dangerous.  This was super dangerous.  So after I helped them all down I got them in a circle and got really angry.  They laughed.  When one of the directors came back about 45 minutes later, I explained what happened.  Since she’d laughed off the “we’ll bash your teeth in” incident, I didn’t expect much.  15 minutes later, all four girls came up to me sobbing.  The director explained that she told them I got angry at them out of concern for their safety, and they told her that they felt guilty because they thought I was a good tutor.  I told them that what they did was not intelligent (always with the basic English), but that I wasn’t angry anymore.  That didn’t stop them from spending the next 20 minutes crying together in a bathroom stall.  But they got their game faces back on for show practice and everything was ok.

Outside of camp, my host mom took me town-hopping.  We went to Cortona, an ancient Etruscan town now famous for "Under The Tuscan Sun," Montepulciano, famous for Nobile wine (waaaaaay better than Chianti Classico), and Pienza, a beautiful really old-looking "perfect" Renaissance town. 

I think I’ll do one more wrap-up post about the final final show and some other things I don’t want to forget to remember.

I’m The Unluckiest --> Luckiest Person In Italy

Milan has three airports.  Orio al Serio, Malpensa, and Linate.  I have been to all three.  Last year, I flew out of Linate on Aer Lingus.  This year, I was scheduled to fly Aer Lingus again out of Linate.  Or so I thought.  For months I’ve been saying my flight was out of Linate, not a doubt in my mind.

After devouring a delicious final Italian meal at the airport with some of my favorites (penne all’ arrabiatta and a gigantic ball of soaked mozzarella), I was confused as to why they weren’t adding any more flights to the departures list.  Mine was at 9:55pm and the last one up was at 9:45pm.  I checked my itinerary.  9:55pm – Milan Malpensa.

7:55 – I finished my dinner at Linate and realized my mistake.

8:00 – I went to the bus area and found that the Linate-Malpensa buses do not run at night.  I boarded a van back to the train station that left 3 minutes later.

8:15 – I arrived at the station.  Usually this is a 30 minute drive but I was in a van, not a bus.

8:17 – I found a bus to Malpensa, but the driver told me Aer Lingus was in the farther terminal and I probably wouldn’t make it, especially since I didn’t have my boarding pass yet.  He said it would be one hour until I got to that terminal.  The driver directed me to the taxi stand (70-80 euros to Malpensa), and there were about 40 people waiting and 0 taxis.  I got on the bus as my only option.

8:40 – We hit every red light possible.  Cars in front of us don’t see when lights turn green, and apparently some cars don’t know how to merge onto a highway.

9:10 – I arrived at my Malpensa terminal.  Keep in mind this is 45 minutes in advance for an international fight.  There is an Aer Lingus staffperson but where it should say “Dublin” on the screen above her is now blank.  She checks me in anyway and says the flight is delayed.  I smiled at her and she said she was about to close anyway, I just made it. 

If I’d missed the flight, I really don’t know what would have happened.  There was no other Aer Lingus flight from Milan to Dublin before my Dublin to Chicago flight tomorrow.  And my Mom already generously booked me a hotel room in Dublin for the night. 

Now I’m at the Dublin airport (which as free wifi this month!) I’ll write a more about my last week and a wrap-uppy post soon.

"Let's get a pizza at the Communista festival"

Sunday was a great day.  It began with drinks at a bar in the center of town… before lunch.  To explain the size of this town, I live on the outskirts and I am three blocks from the center.

I’ve had aperitivo (pre-meal drinks + appetizers) before, but always before dinner, so I opted for orange juice – it was a little early for me.  Lunch was at my host mom’s parent’s house down the street from where I’m staying.  My host great-grandma was there too, and they were both really sweet. 

As she was making lunch, I realized that my host mom may not have fully understood my dietary restrictions.  The handmade spinach/ricotta ravioli looked amazing, but she poured a meat ragu sauce all over it.  I had the dilemma of do I a) just eat it or b) explain Kashrut with many apologies.  I chose to eat it (scraping off as much meet from the ravioli as possible).  And what I discovered was that not only do I prefer meat/cheese separately for religious reasons, but I think they just taste better separately, too.  Maybe I’m just not used to it, but I think those ravioli would have gone much better with veggies. 

Afterward my host parents took me to Siena (at last!).  It was beautiful.  A lot more crammed than Florence, which I like, and the main piazza was incredible.  It was built for Il Palio, Siena’s twice-a-year horse race, so the ground is slanted down for the best viewing.  My host mom and I climbed to the top of the tower on the piazza for a view of the city and beyond.

On the walk back to the car my host dad and I were talking about music.  He loves 60s-80s American music.  He was talking about the Grateful Dead, so I mentioned that they started playing in Palo Alto, and had a show at my high school.  I told him that Joan Baez went to my school, since I’d seen her name on one of his records.  He was impressed and the next thing that came out of his mouth was: “Ahh west coast music.  Jefferson Airplane… Grace Slick.”  I couldn’t believe the next name came up was another Paly alum.  At that point I felt a little ridiculous but I told him that yes, she too went to my high school.  I’m not sure if he believed me.

On our way back my host mom said “Let’s go get a pizza at the Communista festival.”  I thought this was a little strange but there are a lot of far left events here so I thought maybe they were popular in Foiano.  We got to the festival and it looked like a pretty typical local festival with food, entertainment, etc.  But there were also a bunch of big trucks.  I asked my host dad if it was a Communista festival as in “comune,” which is like a small town, but he said no.  Totally bewildered, I asked him if it was a Communista festival as in Russia.  He started laughing really hard and said: “No, as in camione” and pointed to the trucks.  It turns out that a camionista is a truck driver.  Communista is pronounced co-moo-mee-sta and camionista is pronounced ca-myon-eesta.  Still strange that truck drivers have festivals, but a little more understandable.

Camp this week is Mean Girls Camp.  The kids are mostly good, but in both of the older classes we’ve had problems with girls ganging up on individual boys.  Overall it's another pretty easy week though.  And here's a picture of the town a block from camp.  More in another post.

Oh but a weird thing happened the first day.  I asked a girl in another class where she was from and it went something like this...

Her: "Monteccio Maggiore... city camp"  

Me:  "Wait, what?  I worked there two weeks ago."

Her: "My cousins... Giorgia and Giacomo."

Me:  "Uhhhhhh yeah Giacomo was in my class."

Her: "Yes, the Dragons. Other tutors Polly and Emma."

Montecchio was my first camp this year, three or four hours from here.  I am in a very small town, and yet this girl already knew about me, what I looked like (from pictures), and what my group's name was two weeks ago.  Unbelievable. 

For the show I just wrote a script about a pajama party murder mystery.  When I asked for story suggestions the first one was “Glee,” which I’ve never heard about from a mini Italian.  They decided it would be too difficult and not everyone liked “Glee” but I kept re-suggesting it.  And I’m hoping the show will help with juvenile homophobia here.

Good Start

My host dad bade me farewell with a "Good Amusement" this morning (he likes this more than "Have Fun") and I was off to Tuscany. 

My new director met me and one of my new co-tutors at the Arezzo station and we drove to Foiano.  A few minutes after leaving I asked her in very simple English how many years this camp has been running and she said "Your family is 15 minutes from the camp."  This was not a good sign.  Then she sped straight into a roundabout not seeing the car right in front of us and slammed on the brakes a couple feet short of it.  Also not a good sign.  The director situation this week should be interesting.

But the family, oh the family.  They have a 4-story free-standing building.  The first floor is the garage, second floor is for the dad's parents, third floor for guests, fourth floor for the family (where I'm staying).  It's quite a hike to get up here but the reward is a miles-long view of the Tuscan countryside. 

I have a host sister who will be attending camp, a host mom who works at the family furniture shop, and a host dad who coaches Foiano's football (soccer) team.  Oh and then there's Guido, the dog who's probably the best footballer in the family.  He always has a ball in his mouth that he rolls down the driveway until you kick it somewhere and he's on it in 2 seconds.

Tonight we went to a festival in nearby Acquaviva with a few other families, where they were celebrating their patron saint's day.  The parent who spoke the most English explained almost every item on the menu to me, like "Penne is a type of pasta."  I had the typical pici pasta which my Mom and I made a few weeks ago at our cooking class, and my host dad and I split a 1 kg steak.  Definitely the biggest steak I've ever seen.  But we finished it.

Tomorrow is lunch at my host mom's mom's house, who's rumored to be the best cook in the family, and then a trip to somewhere nearby, not sure where.

The Finer Things

(Written in major food coma state)

Just finished my second camp. It was the worst group of kids I’ve ever had. One boy punched another and gave him a bruise on the side of his head that shows no signs of going away. Two kids spat in a boy’s face today, and I could go on and on but bottom line… rough class. And there were only 8 of them. 

BUT, I have a nice family here and the dad is probably the best host cook I’ve had, although my policeman chef host dad last summer makes it tough to call. My host family is from Tuscany, although the camp is in Lombardia (where Milan is). This explains the amazing cooking. They moved here a few year’s ago for the mom’s job, and my dad is a stay-at-home-Dad (very rare here). I asked him what his job was and he said “Mom.” Not sure how I feel about that…

I have two host siblings, a brother and sister, both in elementary school. They’ve become more attached to me in one week than any of my previous host siblings, and I think part of that is that they were very close to their tutor brother last year (who’s a friend of my brother’s from Northwestern). They literally cling to me at camp, it’s not something I’m used to and I really enjoy it most of the time but there are times when it's pretty annoying. I’m sure when I leave they’ll continue playing the version of baseball I’ve taught them, with chairs as bases, no foul territory, and the rule that you must try to run all the way around the bases every time.

Each night we eat as if we are at a restaurant. A new bottle of wine every night, first place, second plate, and dessert. The food every night is delicious and beautifully presented, the pasta with fish (pictured), fish on a bed of potato shavings topped with tomatoes (pictured), and tomato soup were my favorites. Tonight I had wild rice mushroom risotto with porcini mushrooms picked by my host mom’s dad, followed by caprese salad with buffalo mozzarella, asiago and parmesean chesse with candied fruit, and two servings of panna cotta (one with raspberries, one with chocolate). This is why I am in a food coma.

Cooking is just one of the fine arts Giuseppe enjoys and educates me about. 50s-70s Italian singers is another. As are amplifiers and opera. I’ve watched pieces of four documentaries on musicians in the last six days, looked at pictures of food at fancy restaurants online, read reviews of amplifiers, and listened to opera singers on his attic stereo system. If Giuseppe were a character in The Office, he would surely be in The Finer Things club.

Back to camp… unfortunately there aren’t too many stories to share from this week. But one bright spot was a 9 year-old who speaks great English and loves The Eagles. He would wander around singing “Take It Easy” in gibberish until he got to the title words. I tried to load a video but after an hour it was still trying...

The Director was really nice and got as tired of the kids as we did. I asked her on Tuesday if she wanted to have a meeting after camp to discuss how things were going and she fake shot herself in the head. And yesterday as we were doing closing games she came up to me and said “We have 15 minutes.” I said “Ok, thanks.”  She kept looking at me and said “I can’t believe we have 15 more minutes.” The supportive group of tutors was also helpful.

For the show I produced Grease.  I had 4 girls and 4 boys who couldn't agree on anything so it was a good gendered compromise... song/dance for the girls, cars and fighting for the boys.  But the boys stole the show with their Grease Lightning dance.  And they collaborated to make a couple impressive cars.  Of course there was a 15-minute deafening argument over whether to use red or fuscia for 3 letters on one of them but they got over it.

As for trips in the area, we went to Sabbioneta and Mantova on Saturday. Sabbioneta was built as the ideal Renaissance town, and has star-like walls around the city. We spent a little time there and went into The Count’s antique shop. I didn’t really understand who The Count is, but apparently he’s still alive, and from spending 20 minutes in this shop, all I can say for sure is that he is a hoarder.

Mantova was nice, they had a medieval fair going on that we explored. Reminded me of Renaissance Fairs in the US, but weird that it was a medieval far across the street from a legit medieval castle. And last night we went to Cremona, home of Stradivari and the rest of the best violin makers. 

And tomorrow… Tuscany. I am pretty sure I’ll have a host family there. I’ve never been so excited for a camp, there could be tough kids again but at least I’ll be in Tuscany. And Chicago in 9 days!