As the season for camps, mosquitoes and firework-related mishaps swiftly approaches, I reflect fondly upon my own youthful summers. O the simple joys of maidenhood! During the July’s of my prepubescence, I was shipped off to the rural woods of Pennsylvania. It was here I attended a camp for young Quakers, a camp where I would learn the true value of hardhearted, self-sufficiency. These teachings have carried through to my semi-adult life, and I will always be grateful to the Quakers for teaching me such important lessons:
- When There’s a Bush Blocking Your Path, Simply Whack It Out of the Way
Because the camp lacked a certain amount of funding, the Quakers simply handed us sticks and instructed us to traverse the Pennsylvanian wilderness, whacking bushes out of our way as we went. This particular camp activity was called “Bushwhacking”, and it was led by a reclusive man known fondly as “Tree Shepard.” As a collective, we raised our youthful voices in raucous unison, leaping through the woods like rabid gymnasts. Stick in hand, I learned that any obstruction to my path could simply be whacked aside, never to be dealt with again. To this day, when something seems far too complicated to deal with, I use immense force to reach a glorious state of denial, abandoning my problem to the forest floor. Quaker camp taught me that rather than carefully and calmly dealing with conflicts, it is far better to whack them aside like the brambles blocking your path.
2. Sleep with Your Head Under the Covers Even If It’s 85 Degrees
One night I awoke to a milk-curdling scream, a scream that had the capacity to awake the dead and inspire Stephen King-style horror fiction. Yes, a bug had crawled deep into the orifices of a poor young Quaker’s ear. It had wiggled its way down, making a temporary home and inducing the aforementioned “ARGHHHHHH!” Since then, even in the midst of sweltering summer heat, I have learned that it is best to sleep with one’s head entirely submerged under the covers. It is far better to slowly suffocate than get fully penetrated by a centipede.
3. If a Shirtless Man with a Face Painted on His Stomach is Barreling Towards You, Duck to the Side
One fellow camper, self-proclaimed “Jiggle” due to his voluptuous exterior, had the wonderful habit of fully removing his shirt and using acrylic paint to draw a smiley face on his exposed midriff. Jiggle took sadistic pleasure in barreling towards unsuspecting Quakers, a naked tornado inspiring terror wherever he went. In an effort to avoid bodily harm, a fate met by many unfortunate little boys and girls before me, I learned that it was best to jump clean out of Jiggle’s path of destruction. Once his stomach face was painted and ready, he was unstoppable. Since then, whenever I see a shirtless man running towards me, I remember to duck, drop, and roll. Thanks Jiggle!
4. If you Suspect that Someone has Lice, they Probably Do
During the summer of 2010, a horrific lice epidemic hit Quaker camp. Just as Medieval plague victims were quarantined, distinguished by the crosses that marked their doorways, so the lice victims were separated from the healthy campers. They were isolated, shut away in the infirmary with the camp’s scary nurse who definitely owned more than 3 cats and mixed poisons in the back closet. I watched, one by one, as my fellow Quakers were bested by these tiny parasites. Ultimately, In an effort to avoid quarantine and probable death, I learned to spot a lice victim from miles away. The moment a camper reached to scratch their scalp, I dashed away like Road Runner on steroids, leaving everyone else in a dramatic cloud of dust. In an effort to stay safe, it is far better to assume that someone has lice than be sorry later. I have since learned to apply this strategy to all aspects of life. If you suspect someone is about to ask you a favor, they probably are. Avoid them entirely. If you suspect someone has an STD, they probably do. If you think the milk has gone sour, it definitely has. If you’re beginning to suspect that the tree on the Main Green with a rock in it is in fact not a real tree, you may be on to something.
So, my good Society of Friends, maybe we all have our own “Quaker Camps,” places that taught us the important things we know and maybe some of the unimportant things too. Perhaps these are places that shaped our futures or continue to inspire us to be relatively immature people with an irrational fear of centipede penetration.