I’m not a camper chic.
My first time ever camping was Burning Man and that was a complete shock
to my system, until day two when I adapted to Black Rock City and the
awesomeness of dirt camping and what we called Pamper Camp. Three burning men later, I knew it was
possible to camp. My partner knows
everything about camping, but we have never really been out there in the
wilderness together, yet. I know that is on our horizon and the only time we
have been in a tent is when he set it up in the back yard at the Vermont
gatherings we attend with a group of our friends and there is no extra room for
us in the house. I got a bit cranky having to get up in the middle of the night
to enter the house to use the bathroom.
I still have a ways to go to become a camper cave woman.
Why am I talking camp talk? Because I am at one. It is day two of my time at Maho Bay
Camps and it’s not dirt camping and it’s not true wilderness camping with bears
poking around outside, but it sure has some creepy crawly critters.
After a nice dinner of vegetarian gumbo on the deck
overlooking the night sky that I got to watch go pitch black with a sliver of a
moon and stars that I know exist even in my Manhattan sky. It was beautiful, and lovely to connect
a bit with two gals from Georgia who were curious to know about the devastation
of the two Sandy disasters (Sandy Hook and Hurricane Sandy) – and as I listened
to myself talk about what I knew, it felt like a foreign language in this
setting and like I was poisoning the air by giving it any time under the canopy
of a Caribbean sky. It felt good
though to listen to the buzz of conversation around me and the clanking of the
dishes and cook calling out the name of the guest to come fetch their plate of
food. So, you see it’s not true
camping.
It’s pitch black here at night other than my flashlight
guiding me up the winding and cool wooden elevated stairway with it’s 63 steps
from the dining hall that lead to the tent camp E10. 162 to the beach, btw. I got freaked out by the darkness,
but the sounds of the crickets helped soothe me. Slept with a geiko looking over my bed and I figured, I
entered the home of the geiko so technically I’m the intruder. What I didn’t like is the blind roach
that lost its way and was hopping all over my bed. I know that if I didn’t see
it, it wouldn’t bother me, but once you spot a blind roach, it doesn’t make for
a fun sleeping. I’m sympathetic to
the blind, but not the blind roach. If I ever see one in my apartment, I’m
pretty much up all night.
