So now I can tell you about camp Okema and my 7^th birthday.

Being the oldest child, you get older faster than kids younger than you. And considering that, by the time I was six years old -it might have been seven. I can’t remember whether it was before or after my seventh birthday. But you roughly know my age. And I went to this camp called camp Okema. I did have a little bit of help with that. Grandma was the cook, so it wasn’t like my family wasn’t there. It was also a Christian camp and my Mum had gone there as a kid and we went as a family when I was little, but I don’t remember that.

Going by the forgive and forget idea, I’m forgetting ( a.k.a not mentioning) something I overheard the teenagers there say about kids. But all I can say is, don’t underestimate kids.

Each group had to come up for a name for their group. Lots of groups made amazing things. We decided to make a zoo. I don’t remember whose idea that was. But it’s the coolest, cleverest idea when you are 6/7. At the end of the camp, there was a concert that all the kids made. I was very proud of our not-so-well structured play but other girls in my group were self-conscious and didn’t think it was that good. I ignored them. After all, zoos are cool.

Since I was a tiny little girl, I’ve been really good at sleeping. I still sleep like a log supposedly. I brought along this quilt my Aunty Dorothy made for me when I was a baby and jammed it in the gap between the mattress of the top bunk and the bar so I could make a little curtain. I was very proud how I could pray by myself and even knew the Lord’s Prayer. When I woke up the youth leaders ask if we had a good sleep kindly. They asked if I had woken up at night. No, hadn’t woken up once. Even though this wasn’t my normal home. But it had such a nice atmosphere I suppose…

In the morning the older girls did our hair. I was secretly disappointed that their skills at plaiting hair weren’t as good as my Mum’s. They still did. Being little kids they also reminded us to brush our teeth in the evening. Back then my expression of “wash my face” really just meant my chin if I got it messy while eating (I was little!). They smiled and called me a princess.

We also did outdoors activities such as when we played volleyball. I remember this time because the time seemed to drag for ages, and by then I was missing Mum and Dad. Even now I still stick pretty close to Mum and Dad in big crowds. Pj and Robyn run off a lot and ti tends to make me freak out a little when we are somewhere big … still.

We even went hiking at camp. I don’t really remember much but this other guy leading the way and just happily skipping along. I think these memories were cut short because halfway through it because I got stung by a wasp. It must have been annoying for everyone else because their fun was interrupted. But when you are in pain it’s hard to think about other people. I remember unravelling my sock where the wasps had stung me the show a woman, and this man carrying me on his shoulders – I think it was the one who led us- as I sobbed and egged that we would get back to camp faster. I cried a lot and the guy carrying me tried to help me calm down. When we got back, we put some cream on it.

For some reason the memory becomes muddled and it half feels like it was me that the wasp stung, and half feels it was some other kid. But I remember pulling down my sock- and I wouldn’t do that if it was someone else.

I remember bragging about it later. Though I suppose sometimes I don’t remember it being me directly because that way I don’t have to remember how much it hurt.

I suppose I sort of feel like it was someone else that got stung by a wasp because when Grandma helped doctor up the sore it half felt like I was helping someone else see Grandma. Perhaps that is because someone else got a microscopic scratch and wanted a band-aid. After all, band-aids are great.

The canteen was also quite memorable. Grandma is a great cook. She came several times to help out. I not sure she was cooking every time. It was really nice to have Grandma there.

It was different form Australia. When I made toast for breakfast, I could find both peanut butter and jam, but I could find any vegemite. I was soon enough missing vegemite and it was strange when your toast was constantly sweet.

Another rule that they had was that there were no elbows on the table. It was more of a joke, really. The joke was that if someone caught you with you elbows on the table you would need to stand up on your chair and sing a song. It was pretty funny now that I think about it but when I was little the idea petrified me. The crowd looked huge and I did not feel like standing on my chair and making a performing in front of hundreds of eyes. I think I even came up for a back-up plan on what song I would sing if that happened – just in case. If I noticed myself resting on the table, I leaped off and hoped no one noticed. It is hard to break habits.

I had a hard time explaining why I had cried this time, but the grown-ups popular story is that I was crying about not being able to eat a Canadian tacos. (They have those ridiculous shells that snap and splatter on your plate. They take years to master. I still have mastered them. Recently I just cracked the taco shell beforehand. It still works to pick stuff up and that was what I was aiming to use it for.)

Anyway, so Grandma perceived I was crying about the difficult taco shells. And that is the way Mum tells the story unless I interrupt her and tells it the right way.

So, here is how it ACTUALLY goes. As I’ve already told you before, I didn’t really know anyone else with my name. Actually, I made a friend name Abby at this camp and it was like big news. So, anyway, I heard the guy at the front say that Abby was going to stand up on her chair and sing a song because she put her elbows on it. At this point, I freaked out inside. I did not feel like bringing attention to myself. To make relief, some teenage girl stood up and awkwardly blurted out a song. But I was still very emotionally drained and had cried. Though it was a great relief it wasn’t me.

Just to let you know, my friend Abby at that camp was not a teenager. Either she stood up or there were at least three Abby’s at the camp.

Abby my friend had curly blonde hair and a huge smile. We played together a lot in that short time. I don’t remember whether she was in our group, but she probably was. At the end of camp, they had this huge party and we got face paints together. That was really great. I think we might have even got the same one. But I don’t really remember her. Just that she was a great friend to have for a short amount of time.

There was a boy at that camp who said his name was Jesus. This confused me because we always talk about the name of Jesus being unique, powerful. I think his name was the Spanish version of the name Jesus. Well, that was Dad’s conclusion.

Even though this confused me, I wasn’t one to say “no, that not your name”. That would sound ridiculous, wouldn’t it?

Another thing that confused me was that there was a guy that was doing tricks with card he called magic tricks. This confused me because I knew real magic was bad. Mum told me later – or maybe it was Grandma then- that they weren’t real magic just tricks. That was a relief for me.

At the end of camp, I got a camp Okema t-shirt. As you might of guessed, it would be too small now. I don’t have it anymore. We also made little booklets with letters from our friends so we wouldn’t forget them (which didn’t work). I think it’s at Grandma and Grandpa’s house now.