Camp, Take 1.

It was Monday morning, and the combination of nerves and excitement from the four of us was palpable. We had no idea how the day would pan out, and, like the punctual Westerners that we all were, we were prepared and set up at 8:45am for our 9am camp start. We were expecting 75 children, ages 5-10.

There had been children waiting outside the gate since we first went outside at 7am, so I had thought our 9am start would go smoothly. What the translators at the gate told me - what set the tone for my whole first day - was that all of these children outside weren't even the children from the list. [Side note: the camp rosters had been created from going into the communities and enrolling the poorest and most malnourished children. Not exactly people I would want to kick out of camp for being late.] Being completely new to the situation, and aware that we needed to operate on "Africa time," I decided that first day not to replace the roster with the  children at the gate, and allow the enrolled children to trickle in as they came. We had about 25 little ones by 9:30, and were close to 60 by the end of our first morning, out of the 75 on our roster. Needless to say, while the first day's activities were very successful and the children had a ball - the scene outside the gate was heart wrenching. I will never forget that first day of the first camp. We tried slightly different strategies each week, and I don't think we ever got it quite right - every new project takes some growing pains - but that day broke my heart. If there had been enough space to take them all, I gladly would have.

Jenny, one of my fellow coordinators, led a beautiful reflection for us at the end of our experience - and I found myself coming back to this first day. I would like to leave you with the first part of what I wrote that night.

I remember when the children all stood standing at the gate.
I remember when I realized we didn't have enough room to let them all come inside.
I remember when they kept their faces pressed against the keyhole.
I remember when they learned my name, and called to me from outside to let them in.
I remember when I left the camp and talked with them, and the smiles it put on their faces.

I remember my heart breaking at the gate.