What Am I, Twelve?

Well Peace Corps, you pulled a fast one on me this week and I will do everything I can to ensure it never happens again during my service. Over the past year I have come a long way in changing attitudes and perceptions. Things that anyone who knows me are shocked to hear I have embraced. Things that were unthinkable a short year ago have become commonplace. Everything from enjoying the sauna...the naked sauna, to buying and cooking...and eating eggplant are on the list of things I have come around on. But I must put my foot down on the bullshit that was my last 4 days. On Monday I took the train up to Kiev to attand what was billed as a "Language Refresher". I had heard many good things about the semi-annual event held last January. As with many volunteers during service, my Russian, although improved overall, is probably not improving at a rate that could help me in my community integration quest. I mean, after a year I should probably be a bit better than I am- and that is my responsibility. The fact is that some volunteers are forced to speak Russian all the time at their sites, whereas others, like me, have the opportunity to speak English more often than not. So some have improved tremendously, while others plateau and unless there is some sort of jumpstart, remain at a level that gets them by, but limits how much communication they can do. This is me. Last January I could not attend the refresher and had to listen to all of my attending freiends report on just how helpful this "refresher" was in ways of renewing the commitment to learn the language. When the signup came around, I jumped on it. What I did not expect was that what  had signed up for was actually a "Language Refresher Camp". I did not learn this addended word until I was locked in. On the premisis with 45 other volunteers. When I was in Boy Scouts I attended several camps each summer and one of the things I always disliked was the "fun and games" part. I went to Boy Scout camp for two reasoons only: to see my friends and to earn as many merit badges and skill awards in as short a period of time as I could. That was it. During college I came to have an appreciation for these things called "ice breakers". These are little activities meant to cut tension and maybe get people who might feel shy or intimidated in a group of strangers to interact. I didnt like them, but in the effort of getting a group to get into the spirit of sharing ideas, I understood why we did them. One I like is where you get a list of twenty rare scenerios (find someone who speaks three languages, find somone who has a brother with a Ph.D, find someone who has swam in the Indian Ocean etc.) and you have to walk around the room asking everone if they qualify for any of the answers. OK, one icebreaker, I'll support it, participate in it, and lets move on.
Summer camps are a big thing in Ukraine. I guess there are camps in America too, but I have been hearing about camps ad nauseam for the past two months with one to go. Many volunteers (especially those that work with kids) work them. I was not expecting to be a camper.
We arrived via Kiev to the camp compound. A rundown place that was probably state of the art, sparkly and new around 1960, but the Ukrainian years have taken a toll and today most santorium guests have more modern choices. So, this place gets ued primarily for conferences these days. We arrived on Tuesday around lunch followed by "opening remarks". We met outside on a cross between a sports field and basketball court- think concrete volleyball court with fixed benches on the perimeter, but without nets. It is there things started to go wrong for me. I say "for me" because there were plenty of volunteers (and Peace Corps staff) who really got into the program. This is where we were given our first ice breaker. Everyone was given a piece of paper with someones name and a phrase in russian written on it. You needed to walk around introducung yourself and finding the person whose name was on the paper. Once everyone had their paper, we lined up based on the Russian phrase on the other side. These would be our team/squad for the next three days. Before I could ask "what do we need squads for?" we were tasked with electing a captain, and coming up with a team name, motto, emblem and song. That's right, a song that we had to perform each morning and afternoon in our paramilitary formations. It is the people closest to me that can appreciate the total irony of this task. We had to stand in a "V" formation and dance in place while reciting our team song. Our team name was the Party Animals and our song went something like this, in Russian of course: on the farm is a party/the coolest party/with dancing animals/there is none cooler/we are better than our friends/we are sexy and we know it. The last line complete with a spinning dance move, hand claps, and the dramatic usage of sunglasses. That's right, I had to dance in place and say "we're sexy and we know it" while looking over my sunglasses! I was already asking if there was a part for a team member whose role was to stand in the back of the formation silently.  Sadly, everyone else in my squad had way more team spirit than I. I started asking myself, later out loud, what this could possibly have to do with refreshing my Russian skills? Over the course of the next three days thimgs went from terrible to unbearable. Some of the lowlights included singing "I'm a little teapot"-complete with arm gestures in front of the group, a round of duck-duck-goose that I was goosed at, and of course, the obligatory camp skit, but this acting out a famous Russian children's story in the style of a Western film (imagine Three Little Pigs set in a saloon).
Oh yeah, there were some Russian classes too. All told we spent almost the exact same amount of time with camp activities as we did with Russian language. As someone who got a great deal out of the Russian lessons, I felt cheated by the amount of pep that we were expected to perform. OK, for a morning warm up while waiting for everone to arrive, a quick roound of Dima Says (the Ukrainian version of Simon Says) or a quick run through of Head, Shoulder, Knees and Toes- I could see, but being asked to act like we were twelve again, did not work for me! I hated camp skits when I was at camp and my enthusiasm for them has not waxed.
At the end of "camp" we were asked to fill out an evaluation. I wrote four words on my paper. After camp I took the train home and coincidently sat in the same wagon as another volunteer who also attended the program. He wasn't in my squad so I hadnt spoken with him about his thoughts on what we had just come from until now. He said that he liked the Russian lessons and hated the camp aspect of it. He then offered his evaluation that sounded freakishly familiar since it turned out he used the exact same four words on his evaluation as I did. "More language, less camp". And with that I knew I wasn't the only one who had a less-than-fun time with it.

 Complete with our emblem poster: The Party Animals. I'm so happy I could...