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"The food is disgusting, but it was fun": Adults remember the rest in children's camps

Summer camp - one of the few traditions, migrated from the Soviet past to the Russian present without major changes. The attitude towards them remains controversial: some say that the camp gave them team spirit and good friends, others recall hazing, the lack of a regular soul and army orders. We talked with several adults about how they traveled to summer camps and how they remembered that time.

From the eighth to the eleventh grade, I constantly spent part of the holidays in the camp, but not simple, but for the olympiadics - there we mostly did French, but there were some ordinary entertainments, like skitters and games in nature. I was an insecure and rather lonely teenager, so an ordinary camp with a motley group of children would surely be a nightmare for me, but in the detachment of the Frenchophiles I even liked it. There were non-random people there, with many of whom I already knew, besides, the composition of teachers and counselors was also more or less constant, and they could be trusted.

But I still often felt sad: in the camp, you need to communicate with everyone without end, so as not to stay away from the propulsion, there is not enough personal space, plus domestic inconveniences are very tiring - there is no normal soul, it is impossible to wash and iron clothes, early lifting. yourself a meal. It seems to me that only cheerful extroverts who love to be the soul of the company can sincerely enjoy camp life. Nevertheless, there were a lot of pleasant moments too: for example, one of the shifts was made for everyone with uniform T-shirts with my design, it was very cool and pleasant. Plus, all sorts of sentimental customs like “fence” (pieces of paper on which everyone writes wishes and leaves contacts at the end of the shift) and “candles” (this is when everyone sits in a circle, give each other a candle and also say something pleasant). Now I am skeptical about team building, but then it seemed very touching.

In the summer camp, I was only twice: in the Moscow region children's health center named after Gagarin in 2004 and in the very “Orlyonok” in 2007, both times on a free trip. It was very cool: the forest, the sea, delicious (!) Food, a lot of various activities - creative, sports. Plus, even then the thought was warming that it was all free! And, of course, the cherry on the cake - spiritual evenings and songs around the fire.

I am not the most open-minded person and quite difficult to transfer unfamiliar companies, but somehow I managed to relax and enjoy the camp. Although the detachment was always not without negative characters, they did not delude me, like classmates for example. Apparently, this is due to the realization that in three weeks of the shift we are unlikely to meet again. And so it happened, but somehow it didn’t work out with friends in the squad: we met a couple of times with those who lived in the neighboring cities. It seemed that there were good friends from afar, but social networks did not rule the world at that time, so after parting it was too difficult to maintain relationships.

The atmosphere in the detachment depends largely on the work of the counselors. I was very lucky both times: the guys were really not indifferent, they always supported, tried to settle any conflict, they were not afraid to ask for help - and they always helped. These were students, and at the age of twelve or thirteen, it was difficult for us not to admire them. Now I remember how in the Gagarin camp we “took” one of the three leaders to another detachment, and it was a whole tragedy, we even organized a protest action! As it seemed to us, we experienced both sides.

The strangest memories are related to health and hygiene. For example, in the "Orlyonok", as soon as we were on the territory, we first of all arranged a physical examination with full nudity. It was terrible: you are tired after the trip, you want to relax and get comfortable - and here is such an awkward initiation rite. On the other hand, after this, any embarrassment disappeared like a hand. There were very few showers in our part of the camp, so two or three bathed in each, first, to save time, and second, to keep the door from the inside: for some reason, the latch in the shower was broken. And once a week, the detachment was collected, put on a bus and taken to the central forced shower. This ablution was not avoided: the leadership had to make sure that every child was clean and not covered with a layer of sea salt. In the Moscow region, too, there was a problem with a lack of showers, but we solved it with a friend like this: having figured out which song was put up last at the disco, we ran away from her and rushed to wash while there was no turn. For some reason, there was always a shortage of toilet paper in the camps. I always had a pair of rolls with me, which by the end of the shift were used. Once after the evening kefir helped out a whole company.

Another stress in the "Eaglet" was associated with the arrival. We all arrived with suitcases, bags, but at the checkpoint it was announced that we could not take our bags with us anymore: choose what you need in the coming days, the rest is in the cloakroom, you can come and take something else in three days. It’s good that everything was neatly arranged in packages, and I managed to carry almost everything with me. I distributed the remaining packages to the children who, apart from the suitcase, did not have any packaging.

Even from the category of strange things I will remember Willy Tokarev and Nikita Dzhigurda, who were invited to the festival of visual arts in "Orlyonok". Until now, I carefully keep Tokarev’s autograph, which I took after his concert. Well, that "krovostok" did not call.

Cultural shock could not be avoided, but nevertheless I think that it was a useful experience: all these problems and oddities somehow taught us to think ahead, to predict possible difficulties and ways to solve them, to be independent. Now I really appreciate this time.

I went to camp every summer for five or seven years in the late nineties - the beginning of zero. At school, the relationship did not develop, so that the shift became a real outlet. We had a strict schedule of sports and creative activities with one hour of free time per day. At the end of the shift, they chose those who distinguished themselves inside the squadron — one or two — and were awarded at a general ceremony; It was very important - to give everything in a few weeks to full. I was chosen almost every time, and this greatly supported self-esteem.

The most important entertainment was, of course, discos, just a few per season. They were very much waited, because all the key turns of love scenes took place on them. We talked closely, because we didn’t just sit in the classroom several hours a day, but live together for a month, and when you are a teenager, it’s a lifetime.

The main thing is that the camp made it possible to change its own role model. When there are no parents, teachers and classmates, all imposed ideas about yourself, from which it is sometimes impossible to get out for years, are erased - and you can find yourself in a new role and try yourself where in “real” life simply wouldn’t occur.

I do not remember anyone being bullied, although, of course, relations with those with whom you live in the same room did not always add up, and there were always those who more than others caused general hostility. However, this was not ignored and discussed within the detachment; counselors, obviously, were prepared for such situations. Plus, as in school, there were no typical teacher threats sent to the principal or summoned parents — only we were, and we had to figure out what was going on. In addition, the distance with the counselors, who are usually older like older sisters and brothers, is much less - and there is more trust. Very rarely they could not get lucky - and this, of course, was a disaster.

Most of all, I remembered the evening "lights", in which we alternately discussed how the day passed, who pleased or disappointed someone, what qualities we discovered in each other, and so on. There were different psychological tasks - for example, it was necessary to write on the sheets that were sent in a circle, to write the good and the bad quality of each. It turned out more often that you didn’t notice something in yourself - and it was a good starting point for reflection. And in the end, no matter how problematic situations we discussed, we would certainly stand in a circle, hug and sing the evening one, which gave an absolutely therapeutic effect. In ordinary life, this terribly lacked.

In my childhood, summer camp was a way to rest - only for parents, not for children. Formally, the child was sent to sour in the sanatorium and resort situation of the Moscow region, so that he or she would not melt in the Moscow heat. In fact, poor fathers and mothers finally got the opportunity to be together - the difference was especially noticeable to those who, according to the good Soviet tradition, shared their living space not only with the child, but also with mother-in-law, svkrakrami and other older relatives.

In my case, my parents had an excuse: I was torn away from a cool summer apartment with burgundy curtains, sleeping, eating, walking and reading enough to give a luxurious life. Well, as luxurious - just better than most children in summer camps. Establishment under decent patronage promised brick houses with all the amenities in the room, four meals, hobby groups, several swimming pools and regular discos. How can a tired parent know that behind all this magnificence lies the world of unbridled children and adolescents who don’t feed them with bread, let them arrange hazing or jumping into a haystack from the second floor. Indeed, from where.

I hated the camp with all my heart. I was shorter than the rest of my peers - for which I was chmor when I was very young. I was about the same age as the boys regularly remembered when we were older. The orders were spartan. The camp director collected a retinue of minions children who followed him on the heels all day and collected garbage - for this the “chosen ones” canceled the quiet hour. Mugs were mandatory - it was impossible to lie on the grass. Other activities were obligatory: a swimming pool (strictly on a schedule), discos and cinema, in front of which the children went out with posters with texts of popular (according to the management) songs of that time: "Moscow - golden domes ..." and "He left away on the night electric train ... "it was necessary to sing in chorus - the counselors followed.

Behind a massive red brick fence and a registration book for handing over children, the film “The Royal Battle” naturally unfolded. In addition to the painful schedule and the inability to do my favorite things, there was a need to integrate into the hierarchy of the detachment, which was a separate test. Richer children scoffed at children poorer, children snapped up and set fire to the dryer more tightly, children developed sex with themselves in the presence of those who just wanted to sleep. In the younger units, they were limited to ordinary hazing and toothpaste on the face on the Royal Night. At first, there was not even a mobile phone - only a payphone with cards and good old letters. I still pour tears when I find sentimental messages home. And once I had a wound on my ankle, and no one found out about it until my mother arrived on her parent's day. As they say, thank you with the foot!

I suffered this for about five or six years, and then I grew up and rebelled. True, from trips to the "labor" camp (naturally grapes were dug under Anapa for thanks) and "school" (for three weeks in the winter, the devil knows where) it did not save me.

In the summer camps in my life I traveled a short time, just a couple of times in elementary school. But this experience still evokes bright memories, mostly good ones. My camp was not quite normal - sports. All sports schools in the district gathered there for training camps. There were many people, the conditions were terrible, the food was disgusting, but I had fun. I do not know how romantic I was a child, but I consider everything I have experienced as an adventure.

Sports camp - this means two workouts per day, cross five kilometers around a wheat field before breakfast and before dinner, a strict diet. I still remember how classmates told me that they gave ice cream in the camp for lunch. My best treat was then orange.

Yes, the first horror I encountered outside the home walls is the most disgusting food in the world. In the camp, I ate nothing but bread and fruit. Bread still had to be hidden very sophisticated and carefully: firstly, because gymnasts cannot eat it, secondly, because it is impossible to take food outside the dining room. That's where the adventure began more interesting than Mission Impossible: think up how to make more bread, how to carry it, how to hide it in a room. In my nine or ten years, I made friends with a dishwasher, a girl of seventeen, who was filled with our grief. So I had a secret move to the kitchen, access to unprepared edible vegetables and extra orange for lunch.

I remember that many girls missed home, sad and cried at night. I have always considered myself very homely, but it was then that I realized that I was not such a “sugar” either. I liked hard training. Yes, fatigue was wild, but then you could go to lie on the sunlit meadow, listen to the noise of the river and indulge in complete relaxation.

I think one of the advantages of the sports camp is the absence of teasers. Because no one has almost no power. You never come there completely lonely - there are always a couple of familiar faces from the sports school, the coach, the guys you meet in competitions. Anyway, it is easier to find a common language with people who share your interests. There were, of course, quarrels and squabbles, but the usual domestic order, without harassment and bullying. For example, I turned out to be a lunatic. At night I fell from the second tier of the bed and, without waking up, pulled off all the blankets and made them a nest in the corner of the room. And no one was angry with me, it was just a good reason for a joke. And when I was beaten down a barrier so that I would not go anywhere at night, then jokes about the prison were also added - but they never embarrassed me, because they proceeded from the situation and did not insult me ​​personally. Sometimes I think it would be interesting to get into camp during puberty. Maybe then my experience would be a bit different.

One day, in the wake of camp traditions, my squad went to smear our long-time athletic rivals (girls against boys) with toothpaste. And we almost succeeded, but already leaving, we woke their coach. I had to run and hide back at the crime scene. The boys smeared with pasta diligently hid us in their rooms - however, they caught us anyway, and the punishment came in the form of a night workout in the spirit of “Major Payne”. In my opinion, our victims even tried to somehow share the blame with us, but they were left as spectators for the edification. And they behaved like spectators: they were encouraging, giving chants - they supported as much as they could. For the sake of such moments, it was worthwhile to suffer the absence of hot water, the moldy house at the very edge of the water, the shared toilet at the other end of the camp.

From the lyric - my own soul is still heated by a homemade swing on a weeping willow over the river, a cold dawn in the field, a hot afternoon in the meadow. I remember sitting under the window of the supply manager, so that I could watch the “Wild Angel” series on the only TV in the camp. In the camp, I gained the invaluable skill of fortune-telling on hands and on maps - which still can make me a star of a backstage party.

Photo: Konik, monticellllo - stock.adobe.com, Dmitri Stalnuhhin - stock.adobe.com, aimy27feb - stock.adobe.com

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