For those who know me, and know me exceedingly well, you are undoubtedly privy to the fun fact that I hate camping with strangers. This has been evidenced on numerous occasions. Exhibit a: a trip at sleepaway camp called "The Pioneer" which involved 2 days of hiking and 2 days of canoeing. You volunteered to go on it and I went every year. Somehow during the winter months I would forget that the sole enjoyable moment of those trips were when I could sneak away at one of the camp grounds to use the pay phone and call home.
Exhibit B: leading one of these trips as a counselor and loathing every second of it.
Exhibit C: Outdoor action (5 days of camping and "bonding) before starting Princeton. I had a UTI and was considering sacrificing a major appendage so that they would evacuate me and send me to the nearest motel.
Needless to say when I was informed that this Payap camping trip was in my future I was not thrilled.
How silly of me to think that camping as I know it actually meant camping. Did I really think that the 60 year old Thai ladies in my office would be rolling out the sleeping bags and spending a night in the wilderness?
The trip was for freshman "to bond" (this idea crosses oceans.) Yes we hiked, yes it was breathtaking, yes we arrived at a "campground." The University owns a plot of land in a national park on top of a mountain and here they have a cluster of cabins overlooking an enormous vista of Thai mountains and valleys.
My attire for the excursion was what I deemed camping appropriate. Shorts, a t shirt, sneakers, and warm clothes for the nighttime. The Thais looked like they were going clubbing. Walking up the mountain I passed dozens of students in skinny jeans, blouses and flats. The other teachers rode in a car and were appalled that Lauren and I chose to hike.
Additionally I did not wear any make up. Ridiculous of me. Everyone else was reapplying powder and lipstick on the half hour and bviously sweating it all off continuously due to the restricting and hot nature of the skinny jeans. This was quite a hike too. Uphill, jungle, 90 degrees. I should have worn my flats.
When we arrived at the camp ground everyone immediately took showers, changed into nicer clothes and spent about 5 hours taking photographs of one another. Not normal group photographs but insane personal photo shoots with teachers caressing trees and making bunny ears on their own heads from odd squatting positions.
When at some point in the night it got chilly and I realized I hadn't brought long pants, I confided this information to another teacher. "That's ok," she said. "The other Ajarn only remembered to pack ONE pair of jeans!" Silly me to think that one was plenty for a 24 hour mountain-top journey.
But ah the great outdoors. This is how the pioneers must have done it. I can almost see Lewis in Clark now, traversing the American frontier with perfectly powdered noses, different jeans for every meal and a pair of sequined flats for those uphill climbs. Sweet, sweet nature.
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