8th of August. It’s 7.30 in the morning and Italian guy is waking me up. A strange way to spend my holidays, to say the least, but it’s what doing a work camp takes. Great company, great parties, great food. Being awaken by an Italian before eight it’s a necessary sacrifice, I guess. Anyway, I’ll try to stay in bed a little longer, just keeping alive the topic that Spanish people are lazy. I totally disagree with that. On one hand, because sleeping five more minutes (or ten, or fifteen) is not laziness, is just an art for me, and it has to be done accurately. On the other hand, because I’m not Spanish, I’m Catalan. It’s not that I am proud of it (actually, I can’t see how someone can be proud of being born somewhere in particular), it’s just that I am what I am. Though, I’m not going on with the `I’m not Spanish` speech because otherwise the Spanish girls (whom, by the way, I love a lot) will break my legs and, honestly, I don’t want my legs to be broken.
So it’s not even eight and I’m already eating omelet of tomato and mushrooms accompanied by cucumber and more tomato. One of the lightest breakfasts I can remember here. We are eating all day long, and we eat lots of food, so I guess when the camp finishes I’ll be just like a giant ball and I won’t have to walk because I’ll be able to roll. Maybe that’ll make me unattractive to girls, but I’ll save a lot of money on bus tickets.
After filling my stomach, I am ready for another day of carrying stones, and wood, and more stones, and more wood, and probably more stones. But then I am told that I don’t need to do that today. That, as I did such a great job yesterday in the cooking team, today I will do the same thing again. Of course, it was not what they meant. The complete sentence would be something like `as you did such a great job yesterday with the cooking team, and as far as you are totally useless to do the hard work, you f***ing bloody clumsy guy, just stay in the kitchen`. But I suppose saying all that to me would be a little bit rude so they just emphasized in the `great job in the kitchen` part.
Having to clean the house is okay for me, but I think I can also do the carrying stones thing. The problem is I am not used to physical work and the first day I had some difficulties, specially using the shovel. After that, second day was easier to carry on and third day even easier. I guess if I spend two months in this house I’ll be able to run with huge rocks in my hands. But I had already complained about the hard work so now they found new tasks for me. I really appreciate that, but, come on, I’m not crippled! I can work! Well, I think so. Probably, when I come back to the shovel thing I will be asking for an easier task again.
Yes, I know that I am just speaking about me but there is a strong reason for that. Well, actually two strong reasons. The first one is that I am self-centered, but the second (and strongest one) is that I can’t speak about the others because I spent most of the morning by my own, doing all the cleaning. I’d really like to tell that Matt dug a yard all by himself or that Erdem, our particular Mc Gyver, made up a new machine to carry the wood using just a clip and chewing gum. But I can’t because I have no idea of what the hell happened out there. Well, yes, I could have asked, but as I told I am self-centered so I forgot to do it.
The highlight moment of the morning is when Anya, one of our camp leaders, asked me if I could draw a twister board to play to this game at night. You know, the Twister. Right hand to blue, left foot to green, everybody lying down in the floor mixed with each other after five minutes. I hadn’t thought of the idea of an orgy myself, but I have to recognize is a good one. I mean, young people, drunk (because, let’s face it, we always drink at night), laying together on the ground. An orgy is the least you can expect. If I were seeing a movie and one of the characters would say ‘Hey, let’s play twister!’ I’d think ‘Ok, so now they’re going to have sex’. But, well, life is not like a movie, specially my life, so perhaps it is true that we just play twister with no sex. If such thing exists:)
After a delicious and stressful meal (being kitchen/chicken team is not as easy as it seems!), I’m ready to continue with my masterpiece of artwork, aka Twister, but finally I don’t have to. Natalia, the polish girl, asks me if she can do my job. Well, of course! The art of sleeping five more minutes in the morning also includes avoiding doing your work anytime that’s possible, so I have to accept. Normally, I would have thought: Oh, she’s a really nice girl. But in the camp we have this strange game called ‘secret angel’ consisting of having to help someone, not for the pleasure of helping, but because a little piece of paper tells you that have to help that person. It seems an innocent game, but it puts you in a place where you wonder all the time: Is she doing it because is my secret angel or because she really wants to do this? Think about it. It just spreads the lack of trust. And the lack of money, because when you are angel you have to buy lots of stuff.
In the afternoon we take a bus to go to Petrikovka, or something like this. Actually, ‘death bus’ is a name that fits it much better. I have never been in a place that moves so much. Well, yes, roller coasters, but I think they are not vehicles. It is like being in the middle of an earthquake for more than an hour. The best part of it is that one guy that come with us is trying to make us play a game about singing. Oh, yes, sure. We’re about to die in this bus and we have nothing better to do than singing songs. Actually, all along with the movement there is a loud sound that doesn’t even let us to understand each other, so the game doesn’t last long.
Petrikovka, or something like this, consists of some old traditional houses decorated as they were before. Everything is really interesting, especially when they make us paint a traditional draw. Then, I understand why Picasso belongs to the history of art and I don’t. We take our draws as a souvenir and we risk our lives again in the bus. This time it is to go to have dinner in a place full of people dancing. Once we have eaten, we go to dance also. Probably it’s not the best music in the world, but we don’t care. I love Petrikovka, or something like this. The place is perfect, the moment is perfect. And if we survived death bus twice we probably will survive it in the way home. I just hope we don’t have to play that song game again.