The other highlight of the week revolved around maintenance on the climbing wall. Throughout the week we took off every rock on the wall, scrubbed them, repainted the wall wherever it was damaged, and then replaced all the rock holds. Quite a mammoth job. Once the painting starting, I’m not sure if there was a miscommunication on the desired end result or if it actually takes more talent than they realized, but within a matter of minutes there was a large section of huge, dark, camo like blotches. Fortunately, I’ve been trained for just such disasters and was called in to attempt to restore the continuity of the wall and take over the process from there. It’s still not great or anything, but it was good to know that that art degree wasn’t completely for naught. After that, we got to reattach the holds. I started out belaying for a teammate while he climbed and bolted things to the wall. Unfortunately, he had about 40 pounds on me not including the heavy bag of rocks he was wearing, and since the facility doesn’t have floor tethers, additional teammates would occasionally have to come assist in keeping my feet on the ground. Since that was clearly not the most efficient use of manpower, we switched places after about 20 minutes. With a backpack loaded down with fake rocks and slung across me for easy access and an allen wrench conveniently stashed in one of my many pockets, I spent the next 3 hours or so either dangling from my harness or precariously perched on toe chips while attempting to attach the next hand hold. Turns out to be a rather exhausting process. I left the day with many new bruises, much less flesh on my knuckles, and that wonderful feeling of a day well spent.
So now for the whiny section. At ten a.m. tomorrow morning the kids arrive and my job title will officially change to “camp counselor.” Should be excited for the change of pace, but nope, I’m terrified. I have no idea why I’m so scared of kids, but this is just something I’ve really never wanted to do. They talk a lot here about “challenge by choice” and though I’m usually all about embracing opportunities and pushing myself to grow, the whole kid thing is one of the extremely few challenges where I’ve always just put my foot down and deliberately chosen avoidance. This feels a lot like some sort of forced rehab…or therapy…or sick Fear Factor task. Way back when I was still deliberating on whether or not it was good decision to join Americorps, the two things that I was most nervous about that I thought might be actual deal breakers were “what if the uniforms are uncomfortable?” and “what if I have to work with kids?” I suspect a very small percentage of the population would end up with either of those on their list of concerns, let alone their top two, but perhaps that will give you a bit of perspective into my obscure, wacky mind. Top two. This is a big deal for me. I hope that in a couple of days you’ll get be getting a blushing update rescinding every negative thing I’ve ever said around children. I’ve never really been able to get a handle on what the problem is and for once I truly hope I will be able say “I was wrong.” I hope instead of huge burdens of responsibly I will see them as entertaining and refreshing. That instead if immature and irresponsible I can just see them as innocent and unpolluted by worry. I hope instead of a task to suffer thru I can see this as a chance to shape the future. Fortunately, there are enough of us that they were able to assign two of us for a couple of the cabins and my co-counselor should be wonderful. That is a huge comfort. Realistically, it cannot possibly be as bad as I’ve spent my entire life believing it was, and there is a decent chance that after a few hours my palms will stop sweating, my heart will stop racing, and I’ll actually be able to start learning how to act like a normal adult. There is a reasonable chance that the next day I’ll be able to pick up where I left off, build on whatever small successes I stumbled upon and perhaps by the end of my time here I will feel capable of being in charge of a cabin all by myself. That’s the goal at least. Tomorrow I will get up early to allow for double yoga time, I will eat a good breakfast, I will fill my pockets with antacids, I will remember to breathe deeply, and with everything I’ve got I will spend the day pretending to be someone who likes, and is not the least bit intimidated by, children. So, with all the confidence of a well crafted rowboat embarking on a trans-Atlantic voyage, tomorrow will begin with an optimistic smile and I only hope to end it with my head held high and my eyes still dry. Wish me luck!
