Camp Kamaji Blog » For Kamaji Campers Only

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

Kamaji — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 18:13:47 +0000

Greetings from Camp Kamaji where it is much too quiet for our liking!! Although summertime has yet to give way to Autumn, the life-and-breath, the heart-and-soul, the campers and staff are no longer in residence. Camp is simply not “camp” – the last of the departing buses two+ weeks ago took with it all traces of Camp Kamaji as we know it. What we are now left with are but the memories of a summer that was indescribably great!! We hope that those of you who spent time here this summer would agree that Kamaji 2009 was a season to remember. And to our campers, we hope that you – in your own words – have thanked your parents for allowing you an opportunity to spend part of your summer at Kamaji. What your parents have given you is an immeasurable gift. Below is a sample camper thank-you letter to all those parents who took an incredible leap of faith to entrust that which is most precious in their lives to Camp Kamaji. Here goes . . .

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah,

Thank you for the priceless gift you gave me this summer – the gift of summer camp!!

Thank you for the glamour . . . and the mystique of summer camp.

Thank you for a place where I could create a new world on a blank slate. . . to invent my best self . . . and make first new impressions.

Thank you for placing me in a unique setting that allowed me to feel a sense of connectedness, belonging and safety . . . and an acceptance of and appreciation for me.

Thank you for turning me loose to play freely – and, in so doing, I have acquired a sense of playfulness that hopefully will survive well beyond my youth.

Thank you for sending me to camp – a child-centered environment where the hurry, stress and demands of life away from camp were almost totally eliminated.

Thank you for providing me with a place where I could make my own fun and most importantly, make my own choices.

Thank you for allowing camp to teach me what positive things to say and do when I made mistakes and faced challenges – without feeling bad about or unsure of myself.
Thank you for giving me the chance to choose my own activities instead of doing what was expected.

Thank you for sending me to a place where I could make new friends, enjoy the outdoors, short-sheet my counselors’ beds and try and try and sneak candy into my cabin.

Thank you for staying “connected” with me this summer through your handwritten letters.

Thank you for indirectly teaching me an important life lesson that will surely stay with me through adulthood: even though at first it was a scary experience being away from you, I know now that I can take care of myself.

Thank you for letting me go which I know is not always easy for a parent to do.

Thank you for the fond, fuzzy memories of a summer where I lived with camp friends in bunk-filled cabins in the woods.

Thank you for the opportunity to take canoe trips down remote stretches of river and help pitch tents, collect firewood, prep and cook some of my own meals. Thank you letting me sleep underneath the stars. These experiences have given me a kind of self-confidence I am not sure I could have gotten any other way.

Thank you for sending me to camp where I learned that I was competent in ways I never dreamed possible.

Thanks for not coming to get me when I begged to come home. As a result I learned that you have faith in my abilities to adjust to whatever comes my way.

Thank you for the opportunity to live in a cramped small living space with a group of girls – many of whom I did not know until camp – who are now some of my best friends . . . and surely will be for the rest of my life.

Thank you for the lessons about responsibility, teamwork and leadership – skills that I can now take back to home and school . . . and beyond . . .

Thank you for the chance to learn that requiring all kids to do everything equally well is a mistake – and that, instead, my individual talents and interests – found, tapped, nurtured and applauded at camp – set me apart in all ways good.

Thank you for providing me a place where I could develop my independence and grow in confidence.

Thank you (I think??) for allowing camp to make me clean the cabin, hop and clear at meals, sort and fold my own clothes.

Thank you for the opportunity to live with girls whom I didn’t always get along with but with whom I learned to deal with our differences in a productive positive way.

Thank you for putting me into a situation where I could really test my limits . . . and expand my horizons.

Thank you for allowing me to develop resiliency – by learning, when I sometimes fall short, how to bounce back from everyday challenges.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to make my own decisions . . . discover my own strengths . . .

Thank you for allowing my cabin counselor to do her best to help me get through it when I was homesick, upset or sad.

Thank you for the opportunity to be embraced by unique and special traditions and customs – the “secret codes” of my camp.

Thank you for a chance to experience new adventures.

Thank you for the ability to surprise even myself when I found that I could achieve results in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds.

Thank you for providing me with an experience that will surely reap benefits for a lifetime.

Thank your for allowing me to step out of my comfort zone, to spread my wings and learn to fly.

Thank you for the gift of camp.

Love,
Your Happy Camper

Rustic – Kamaji?? Do Tell!!

Kamaji — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 17:08:34 +0000

The following Camp Kamaji blog was written by Kamaji’s Assistant Director, Kat Martin:

A Camp Kamaji parent recently told us that people describe Kamaji as being “rustic”. Initially, upon hearing this, I was slightly insulted!! “Rustic” . . . I think outhouses, cabins falling apart, old equipment, etc. This image was FAR from the reality of the camp that I know and love.

So I did a little research. I found two definitions of “rustic. The first read “Lacking refinement or elegance”. Mmm, again . . . I found myself insulted. I mean, we have brand new washhouses that don’t just seem “elegant” but luxurious!! Our cabins are gorgeous; whenever people see them for the first time they cannot believe how architecturally beautiful our cabins are. And our equipment? With a unique climbing wall that is only five years old and fancy GPS systems in geocaching, I hardly find those antiquated or “lacking refinement”.

But then I thought a bit more about this definition and thought perhaps we CAN be considered a bit “rustic”. What elegant ladies would find themselves standing on dining room benches after lunch singing Backstreet Boys, “I Want It That Way”? Refined? I think not!! And it’s hardly well-mannered to throw mud at one another if you find yourself standing in a puddle after a rain. And really . . . have you ever seen a Kamaji girl eat a Rainbow Burger? Whew, it’s not pretty, and again, hardly elegant or refined!! Our “Kamaji whites” for O’Naug are hardly ever white; the only silverware we use when eating gooey rolls are knives; we sing songs about Mike’s head looking like a ping-pong ball and don’t get me started on “A Little Bird” or “Mmm, Plucky Plucky”!!! So what does this say about Kamaji and Kamaji girls? I think it just says that we know how to have a good time!!

Who wants to go to camp and worry about keeping clothes clean? Gooey rolls are meant to be sticky, messy and well, GOOEY! And singing at Kamaji? We’re certainly not known for our vocal talent (at times it is downright painful to the ear) . . . but it’s fun! Listening to 200+ people sing songs together is quite entertaining! And Mike’s head? It DOES somewhat (ok, totally) resemble a ping-pong ball . . . and Kamaji girls only speak the truth. What’s camp without giving Mike a hard time? He does, after all, wear rather “funky shoes” – it would be a mistake to not sing about them! In fact, we have songs for just about everything – we sing about coordination; if you’re late, we sing about the fact that you were likely primping; if it’s time to get the mail, we sing about that too! Why talk when you can sing? Though, I doubt any refined, elegant, well-mannered lady would agree.

The other definition I found interesting for “rustic” was, “Charmingly simple or unsophisticated”. Yes . . . and Yes!!! Not a bad thing at all. I would definitely say that Kamaji is “charmingly simple and unsophisticated”. We could have easily installed electricity into the cabins when we renovated them, but why? Life is so much simpler, and much more fun when you and your porch group can listen to cheezy music from a battery operated boombox, when you and your cabinmates can sing out loud and dance to songs from “High School Musical” as a group, instead of each girl holed up on her bed with her IPod and earphones. Instead of wasting time blow-drying or straightening our hair, we spend more time making up lyrics for a new cabin song or for our Trip Song to sing during that week’s Council Fire. At night when we’re all back in our cabins we sit around in a circle with our flashlights and share stories rather than sit around with the lights on and play on our individual game players. Very simple (in fact, some would say “charmingly simple.”)

Definitely “unsophisticated”. We’ve already established that our behavior cannot accurately be described as “sophisticated” – although we have been known to throw an amazing “Country Club Night” where we get manis and pedis, play a little mini-golf and get massages when we’re done. I think we can pull it together on those nights and pretend to be rather sophisticated while socializing with our friends Muffy and Buffy.

But normally I would say we ARE unsophisticated. We have fun doing things like decorating bananas and carrying them around all day as our buddies; dressing up like Shrek characters and running around camp; and twirling around a stick 10 times and trying to run in a straight line . . . I hate to break it to you, but definitely NOT sophisticated.

So this is what I have determined . . . next time someone describes Kamaji as “rustic”, I am going to take it as a compliment. I know they canNOT be referring to our brand new washhouses, our newly renovated cabins or our exciting and always growing activity program.

Instead I will know that they must be referring to the fact that we have fun the good, old- fashioned way, very unrefined and not elegantly!! I’ll also smile knowing that they consider Kamaji to be “charmingly simple and unsophisticated”. We know how to get dirty, sing loudly, have a sense of humor and use our creativity to have a good time – and there is nothing insulting about being girls who know how to have fun the “rustic” way.

You Know She’s a Kamaji Camper If . . .

Kamaji — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 13:00:04 +0000

•    80% of her summertime clothing is in her tribe color or has the word Kamaji somewhere on it.
•    Being at home makes her campsick.
•    She insists that lullabies are not sung; instead they are the call of the loon or the clang of halyard on mast or the sound of whispering red pines swaying in a summer breeze.
•    She knows all the words to every Kamaji cabin and tribe song.
•    She sports a duct tape accessory and owns at least one feather boa in a primary color.
•    She can go “plug-less” for at least four weeks.
•    She can backstroke, sidestroke, forward sweep stroke, draw stroke, J-stroke, C-stroke or any combination of the aforementioned.
•    She insists that a ringing bell means it’s mealtime or someone’s made it to the top of the climbing wall.
•    Her real BFF is someone she’s lived with 24/7.
•    She can sing “It’s a Beautiful Day for a Ball Game”. . .and never been to a home game.
•    She has witnessed an eagle in flight and knows it is truly a wondrous sight.
•    She has canoed – and maybe even portaged – the mighty Mississippi.
•    She can sit quietly, reverently, respectfully for an hour-and-a-half without complaining or even fidgeting.
•    The only topic she feels worth debating is whether or not to add cheese before or after you cook a tinfoil dinner.
•    She uses tinfoil as a cooking utensil.
•    She tells you a salad bar is not a salad bar without pbj and bread.
•    She can only sing “Life of a Voyageur” as a rite of passage reserved solely for Pine Manor campers who have canoed the White Otter Wilderness Area.
•    She knows of a Bert and Phil who are not boys.
•    She’s “got the beat.”
•    Her toothpaste preference is brownies.
•    She’s painted or wanted to paint a pig.
•    She has ever been first in line for shucking corn.
•    She knows 50 ways to use a bandana.
•    She’s ever requested that Mike-with-a-head-like-a-ping-pong-ball sing “There is a House at Kamaji.”
•    Everything she owns has either her name or her initials on it.
•    Most of her stories start with “and then there was this one time at camp . . .”
•    For her, screaming and running at the same time is a coveted skill.
•    Only a select few know exactly what she means when she says: CIT, OD, hopper, clearer, gooey roll, flushie, JC, CIT, ACA, AED, CPR, WSI, O’Naug.
•    She’ll insist that Lodi and geocaching are synonymous with BUCKET!!
•    She tells the school nurse that drinking plenty of water and ringing the bell a-half-hour-later cures all ills.
•    She’s only been home for a few days and already thinking about next summer and what cabin she’ll live in.
•    She can shampoo and condition her hair, shower and shave her legs in less than five minutes.
•    She can walk dark forested paths at night without a flashlight.
•    She insists that only camp people give the best hugs.
•    She goes to school just to fill time between summers.
•    She has a camp set of clothes which includes a collection of outfits for all-camp evening programs as well as proper footwear.
•    She has no less than twenty mosquito bites in a square inch of skin.
•    She has a variety of CDs labelled “Camp Mix” – with most of the songs found on old Kamaji reunion videos.
•    While her classmates’ life goals are to go to medical school/law school, she aspires to be tribe leader or to at least get the flag in All-Camp Capture the Flag.
•    You have to routinely prevent her from shouting “Walk please!” or “Buddy Check!!” at random kids at the mall or from standing on the chairs in the Food Court.
•    She says that laughter, hiccups, sneezes, itching, and yawns are contagious.
•    She’s surprised to learn that “Corner of my Sky” is not a Kamaji-specific song.
•    She only wears skirts when kayaking.
•    She is disappointed to learn that one cannot major in “camp” at college.
•    She relates better to people 10 years younger or 10 years older than to her actual age group.
•    Someone tells her she’s “awkward” and she considers it a compliment
•    She saves anything and everything anyone at camp has ever made for her.
•    You and her “real-world” friends limit her to only five camp stories a day.
•    Her barter system relies on hugs, backrubs, and embroidery floss.
•    She longs for bug juice in winter.
•    She’s not home and never writes, telephones or emails for at least a month every summer.
•    Her primary method of diplomatic resolution is rock, paper, and scissors or horse n’ goggle.
•    Her tan lines are also her dirt lines.
•    The teachers know her as a camp person.
•    She asks someone for a favor and promises a friendship bracelet in return
•    She uses the expression “NCA” to abruptly end a conversation
•    Her Nalgene and close-toed shoes are more essential than her underwear.
•    Her year only has two seasons – summer and not-summer.
•    One of her all time favorite reads is “Camp Kamaji Plumbing Rules.”
•    She knows all 753½ verses to “The Rattlin’ Bog.”
•    She’s written at least one paper about camp for a class.
•    She’s recites the camp address when someone asks where she lives.
•    She can only read at night with a flashlight under the bedcovers.
•    She thinks that dressing up involves any clothing other than pajama pants with a drawstring and a Kamaji tee.
•    Her idea of a status symbol is a Teva or Chako tan line.
•    She laments that her home/school friends “just don’t understand!”
•    When you take the last of the shared popcorn at the movies, she scolds “You kill it, you fill it!”
•    She orders “steak-on-a-stick” when out to dinner at a fancy restaurant.
•    She wraps masking tape around a stick.
•    She showers in flip-flops.
•    She considers being immersed in water (whether it be in the pool, a lake or running in the rain) as having bathed.
•    One of her camp highlights was when Mike Jay gave her a camp nickname.
•    On her 16th birthday she got to drive the camp golf cart.
•    She’d rather sail with her friends than chat on the “Imer”.
•    She owns Soffe shorts in almost every color.
•    She has a candle stuck in a wax-laden tag board holder and is planning to relight it on New Year’s Eve.
•    She screeches when someone says: “You look like an Ishkaday” (or a Waubun. . .or a Mundahmin. . .or a Metig . . . or a Geshig . . . or a Nanahtahga).
•    She asks for water without ice cubes.
•    She can burst into song about anything, anywhere, anytime!
•    There is a camp closet with camp duffle bags (and freshly washed linens and camp clothes already packed inside) somewhere in her house .
•    She has at least 15 pictures from the Staff Show – none of which turned out – but she puts them in a scrap book anyway.
•    She’s already planning what to wear for Tribe Day ‘09.
•    When you ask her how her day has been she exclaims “Boy-o-Boy, was that great!”
•    She can’t bring herself to cut off her wrist-ful of stringy friendship bracelets.
•    She knows exactly who would appreciate this list.
•    And, most importantly, she can tell you exactly how many days are left until Kamaji 2009 . . .