Boys of Summer

The sun was beginning its long, slow dip behind the mountains and the field was increasingly painted a blinding orange. An old farmhouse sat somewhere out beyond centerfield, seemingly guarded by three patrolling horses. Just off the third base line a cabbage patch stretched a good one hundred meters and the entire scene played out under the watchful eye of a ski lift, disused in these summer months. The boys in the field awaited the first pitch, their gloves hanging uncertainly on their hands. The batter stepped up to the plate. He held the bat awkwardly but enthusiastically as I delivered the ball towards him. There was the ping of a metal bat on a hardball and the hitter took off running...to third base.

Ooops, we forgot to explain that rule. We also neglected to tell him to drop the bat after he hit the ball, so there he stood, grinning widely on third base with the bat in his hand. It was the first time he had ever taken a cut at a baseball. It was the first time any of them had. This was the National Leadership Camp for boys, a week-long gathering in the idyllic setting of the mountain town Krusevo. At this moment, fellow PCV Frank and I were holding a session on baseball and thanks to a generous donation of gloves, bats, and balls, we were able to teach throwing and hitting, as well as stage an actual game.

Frank and the boys take the field

Ninety boys, ages 12-17, gathered for the week. In my charge were 16 seventh and eighth graders and we called ourselves the Crazy Campers. Like the other five teams of boys, we had our own flag, cheer, and idiosyncrasies. I was teamed up with a Macedonian co-counselor named Igor. We hit it off immediately and had a very fun, very funny, and very tiring week guiding these young men.

The camp served two very important purposes. First, it gave the boys the uncommon experience of exploring their leadership potential and discussing that potential in the context of Macedonia's future. There were teamwork activities all week and leadership opportunities for all the boys. Second, the camp brought together boys from all over Macedonia. Despite its geographic petiteness, Macedonia has a surprising amount of cultural diversity, the result of a history of poor roads that made regional travel very difficult--for example, the citizens of Bitola have different customs and dialect than those of, say, Stip, a mere 50 miles away. This created a lively atmosphere of playful rivalry and humorous cultural exchange.

Even more to the point, the camp brought together ethnic Macedonian and Albanian boys. Membership into NATO and the EU aside, the relationship between these communities will be the defining question in the country's short- and long-term future and if tensions and suspicions are to be settled peacefully, it will be young people like these boys who will make that decision. All week we saw new friendships blossoming and heard genuine talk of understanding in their Civil Society classes.

These heavier things were balanced perfectly with the fun and games that go with any good summer camp. Daily sessions included music, outdoor skills such as using a compass and tying knots, and art, where we made origami and tie dyed t-shirts. And, of course, there were camp pranks and team rivalries. Igor and I led our team on a successful water balloon ambush on the last day of camp after being awoken at 6am that morning by a rival team banging on our doors and windows.

Teamwork games

On the final night there was a closing ceremony that featured a candle-lighting, during which boys were free to volunteer thoughts about the week. Their comments about friendship, leadership, and the future of their country were very touching and left all the counselors feeling quite satisfied with the week. I know our boys, the Crazy Campers, got a lot out of the camp and repeatedly told Igor and I (usually prefaced with, "Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan" or "Igor, Igor, Igor, Igor"...what can I say? Thirteen-year old boys are not known for their patience) that the camp was much more fun and interesting than they ever thought it would be.

Everyone exchanged contact information and headed back home on Saturday with new friends, skills, and ideas to carry them through summer and into the next school year. And if even a few of them can share what they learned with their friends, if even a few can be an example to their peers, than Macedonia's future just got a little bit brighter.

Just don't count on a national baseball team anytime soon.

Jillian is now off at the national girls camp, GLOW. Tune in next week to hear all about it...

With two of my boys, Muhamed and Denis

The Crazy Campers

First Camp of the Season

Wow. We're tired.

Yesterday marked the end of a whirlwind two months in which we conceptualized, planned, and carried out a day camp in our community. Not just us, mind you, but also the excellent team of teenagers who volunteered a lot of their time (including much of the first two weeks of summer vacation) to make this thing happen. As I've mentioned before, the camp was called Healthy Kids and it was a mix of camp games, physical activities like running, soccer, Frisbee and agility, and playful content sessions on topics like anti-smoking, healthy daily routines, the cardiovascular system, dental hygiene, and the food pyramid.

We had a total of twenty-five campers ranging from grades 4 to 6, and roughly half boys and half girls. They showed incredible enthusiasm all week and many asked if it was possible to continue the camp into next week. Judging by the exhausted looks on all our counselors' faces yesterday afternoon, the answer was most definitely...no.

It was an amazing, rewarding week and Jillian and I are very happy for the kids who attended and proud of the teenagers who made the whole thing possible. Not only did they assist in the planning and creation of many of the resources, they also taught all the classes and led all the activities.

It was awesome. Here's some of the highlights:

**Water Balloon Craze
Before Matt came to visit us a few weeks back, we asked him to bring some things from his local Rite-Aid: coconut-smelling sunscreen, Jillian's must-have hair products, "MY NAME IS" stickers, and, happily, water balloons. He came through with a whopping 800 and, equally whopping, we threw 'em all. Like a moth to the flame, the kids gravitated to our buckets of balloons and--to mix my insect metaphor--we swatted them away like mosquitoes. "Wait for the game to begin!"

And the games were a big hit. With the temperature reaching 90 degrees everyday, getting wet was a major priority. And when getting wet involves racing across the soccer field to a waiting chair, placing a water balloon down, and sitting on said balloon, well, who doesn't love that? Another popular game was water balloon volleyball, in which both teams hold a sheet and use it to catch and throw a water balloon back and forth over the net.

A few other games involving buckets and sponges helped us beat the heat and end each day on a really fun note. Inevitably, it would all conclude with the kids chasing the counselors around the field, dousing us from their filled water bottles. Our lead counselor, Tina, routinely bore the brunt of this and left her family thinking someone had shoved her in the community pool.

Counselors and campers playing "volleyball"

Sponge games

**When All Else Fails, Scare Them Into Brushing Their Teeth
As we were wrapping up on Friday afternoon, the counselors asked the campers what their favorite content classes had been. The answer: the ones with the gross pictures. It's true, a couple of the lessons used some rather "persuasive imagery" to get the point across, and these kids now know (and probably won't forget any time soon) what a smoker's lungs look like and what advanced (alright, REALLY advanced) gingivitis does to your mouth.

But how's this for instant payoff: this morning, one of the campers told a counselor that she woke up and brushed her teeth for two minutes, placing a watch on the bathroom sink just to make sure. While visions of rotting teeth danced in their heads...

The campers, standing in as teeth, learn about flossing

Counselors teaching Staying Healthy

**They Probably Don't Need To Know About Sacrifice Bunts
One of the few sessions Jillian and I led was a class about the rules of baseball. Standing before the kids with our baseball gloves, a carefully drawn picture of a baseball diamond, and a trusty translator (Tina), we dove in, keeping things as simple as possible. And you know what? There's nothing simple about baseball! (And there's no crying in baseball!) Go to the bathroom mirror right now and try to explain to yourself the basic rules of the game. There's nothing linear about it, it's got all these seemingly nonsensical moving parts, and men are wearing big slabs of leather on their hands.

The campers loved it. After an absorbing thirty minutes of the down-and-dirty rules, we let all the kids practice having catch with our gloves and capped it all off with that time honored school yard tradition of kids without gloves and bats: kickball. The rules of baseball + something these kids already love (kicking a ball) = voi-la! It was the biggest surprise hit since Tony Bennett's comeback.

A few of our trusty counselors

Camp games

**Stretch That Denar!
Perhaps one of our greatest coups of the week was getting all the kids t-shirts, made right here in town, from the paltry registration fee they paid. Complete with the logo that Jillian and Tina created, they are a big hit with the campers. We were able to do this with some creative finagling of our tiny budget, not the least of which was Jillian and I rising somewhat earlier than planned each day to assemble lunches for all the campers. It felt a bit like "Cheaper By The Two Dozen" with our lunch assembly line (which, I must note, included all 5 food groups), and the money saved became those kickin' t-shirts.

More generally, the camp was a fantastic study in working with limited resources. Our mantra was something like: If we can't buy it, borrow it. If we can't borrow it, make it. If we can't make it, fake it. And it all came together, created from scratch.

I'll Have a Beer...and Some Ice Cream

Summer is in full effect here, with temperatures reaching the 90s and Macedonians categorically refusing the prepare certain meals. On the second point, we took my brother to a restaurant in town and were told, in no uncertain terms, that what we ordered just couldn't be made--it's June, for god's sake! Well, with summer also comes the rather expansive cafe culture, something my brother mentioned in the previous post.

In America, just about the only place one can nurse a single drink for two hours is Starbucks--but even then, dirty looks are sure to follow if a comfy chair is involved. Even the dive-iest of dives isn't going to let you sip on that lukewarm Coors for more than thirty minutes before the bartender starts laying down some serious pressure about the next one. Are you drinking or are you leaving?

Not so in Macedonia. Not only does the bartender/waiter (inevitably the same guy) not interrogate you about your next drink, but getting the check from him often requires some real effort on your part. Making eye contact is a pipe dream--just go ahead and wave your arms like an airport runway signaler. So people tend to sit. And talk. And people watch. And drink their beer and coffee and eat their ice cream.

Ice cream is really popular here at all the cafes. It's not unusual to see a table of four at which one patron is downing a Skopsko beer, a second is sipping a cappuccino, and the other two are eating soft serve vanilla ice cream. It's four guys dressed for the discotheque and it's something like eleven at night.

And then there's boza. Apparently this is a really Balkan beverage. My first taste of boza had me thinking someone left a vat of Orange Julius out in the midday sun for a few weeks. It's kind of sour, kind of sweet, and it had this slight kick to it. Is there alcohol? I'm guessing not, since I've seen every seventh grader in town drinking a boza float. I can't blame them--a boza float is where it's at. Personally, I let all the ice cream melt and the creaminess mixes with the whatever-the-hell-it-is for a taste I find quite irresistible.

I'm just afraid one day I'll spy someone drinking a beer float.

Our day camp--Healthy Kids--is now in full swing. More on that later...