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09-May-2020 18:22 by 8 Comments

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I was excited: the day had finally arrived, and I was going get to know the place I’d been thinking of for the last months. Finally, after about 5 or 6 hours, I saw that we were in Naples, Maine, and after some minutes I noticed a sign on the road and I knew I had finally arrived.The Arrival I remember arriving at camp for the first time.

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Everything seems perfect for these little guys, up until AM, when they suddenly realize there’s a huge problem between them and their summertime life-goals: they don't feel like making their beds. My name is Cristian Cardenas, I’m a Mexican mechanical engineering student and a three-time former camp counselor, and today I want to share with you how being a camp counselor has written a brief but very significant paragraph in the story of my life. This is Bob Lewis from Camp Takajo..."I remember this day perfectly.

I was in arts class during the second semester of college when my phone rang. It started with a 1; I felt like it was going to be another spam call offering me a service or debit card which I would later reject. So, I went out of the classroom and answered my first ever English-speaking formal phone call.

Hugs and smiles were present everywhere and the place started to look very different.

The first week it was a big land, with a lot of sports courts and fields, but it only hosted around 100 people. Kids were running all over the fields, others were playing with balls and rackets in the courts.

I could see that there was a set of bunks around the forest with different names.

Yosemite, Chichenitza, Ixtacciuatl, Rappahanock, and finally I saw a big bunk almost at the end of the quad that had a plate on it that said Passaconaway.

Later on, I discovered that everybody in that bunk was also a tennis counselor.

I met two guys from Argentina, who were happy to see that somebody else spoke Spanish, one guy from Ireland that had come to the U. for the first time in his life, a tall guy from England with a deep voice and red hair, and the twenty-year-old number 1 French tennis player from Paris, Stephan Bimboum.

But it didn’t take more than 2 hours for me to discover that I was enjoying it, that the feeling of independence, and liberty started making me feel happy.

The next day I woke up, had a quick breakfast, and took the bus to Maine.

After this brief meeting, I went to find my new place in that cabin.