Young Voices in Summer
by Katha Estopace and Sandy De La Paz
Our hands and shoulders burned with the weight of bags filled with dirty clothes, gifts, and a new set of music pieces. When we told our stories, the words we delivered with a hint of new melodies. We returned home, tired yet full.
Each summer camp changed us, a result of more than twenty to thirty children living together for more than a few days. It always felt like its own little world, with its own set of rules, its own way of life. Though there was a common set of activities, each camp had its own memorable moments born from the different personalities and quirks of every member, our environment, and our goals.
These are moments enveloped with the hazy summer glow of childhood.
My first summer camp is already a bit blurry in my memory. It was in a distant retreat place in Sierra Madre. There was a suspension bridge that we were cautious about, and we had to walk a bit to get to the swimming pool. We spent most of our days rehearsing in monoblock chairs in a wide white-tiled room.
After Sierra Madre, the next memorable summer camp is Lucban. We were invited to perform for the Pahiyas festival. The color and energy of the festival were contrasted by the calm and cool silence of the nearby Mt. Banahaw.
If I strain my mind, I can hear the echoes of the “baggage chain” in our camp in Lucban. We stayed in a dorm that was more than two stories high, and our bags had to be moved from the ground floor to the higher floors. Imagine a flight of stairs with a child at every step. They laughed and huffed as they passed a bag half of their size to the next child above them. Kuya Gabby and Kuya Walter’s booming voices cautioned about bags with fragile items, and the adults lent a helping hand as they kept an eye on the smaller children. A small tambo, precariously attached to a bag, tumbled down and was met with shrieks.
It may have been too cold where we stayed. We often requested Throat Coat tea from Tita Lennette, and the freezing morning air may have driven one of our younger members to not take a bath. Kuya Gabby had to wait in front of the boy’s bathroom just to make sure the young boy took one.
That’s one of the most important things you learn from camp: you learn to care and be more responsible for the people around you. You learn to greet the people you meet, keep an eye on your assigned buddy, and even note down the numbers of the small kids so you’re immediately alert if you don’t hear their voice in the roll call. You learn that communication is important, especially if you don’t want to be left behind in camp and make one of the cars turn around to fetch you (ask those who call themselves the Cherubim Shepherds of the Tanay Camp for more details).
These are small things that you learn with every summer camp. For us Manila kids, having local delicacies likeTsokolate-A of Batangas for merienda every day was a novelty, trying pako in Lucban for the first time was life-changing, and savoring the fresh mountain air of Tanay and Lucban or the sea breeze of Batangas were once-in-a-summer opportunities. We also got to learn about our culture as we looked at the Pahiyas decorations and the tall walls of the Taal Basilica.
In between rehearsals and meals, we had group activities that aimed to improve our sense of unity. Trust falls, breakout sessions, and activities during meals. A frequent activity was the Monks Meal. It was quite a challenge to feed someone who can’t communicate with you. One child cried because her assigned meal partner didn’t give her enough food. In contrast, others got so full because their partner kept putting more food on their plate.
It was in one of our Batangas camps that Tita Len decided to change a group activity and made us all watch a movie, Les Choristes. We were all huddled together on the living room floor as we stared at the screen, and we strained our ears to hear how the actors sang the songs we were learning. Eventually, the Les Choristes songs were added into our repertoire and influenced the name of our alumni batch.
The most exciting activity, of course, came at the end of every camp. It was a night where curfew was broken, and sleep was chased away by laughter. Groups presented skits full of inside jokes, song parodies, dancing, pop culture, bizarre plotlines, and memorable characters (Makisig and Marysa is a classic).
The most bizarre storyline had to be the major production of Alicia in Wonderland in one of the Batangas camps, because each competing group decided to unite their skits at the last moment. A parody of its namesake, Alicia meets bizarre singing and dancing characters while she is being followed by the Red Queen. Looking back, I think that weird play was saved by our improvement in acting from the theater workshops held by Kuya Bryan. Therese definitely shone as Alicia. Ate Julia also shone as the wild Red Queen. It also helped that we really made her look like a Red Queen, courtesy of the make-up workshops held by Ate Hazel.
There are videos of our skits posted on Youtube, but the charm and hilarity are strongest when you watch it live, and any attempt at recreating any of them will never be the same.
Once the skits ended, the junior staff presented certificates to our most memorable members. It differed every year, but here are a few that still sticks to my memory: Caitlin earned an award by having her name on everything she owned (even her slippers and her snacks), Liz consistently earned the “Tulog Mantika award,” and Mariel did her best to point out constellations in the night sky. There were also regular awards, such as awards for the best buddies, best actors, the best skit performance, and the cleanest rooms.
The most bittersweet event happened at the end of the closing ceremony. This is when the graduating batch said their goodbyes. There were times when the younger members cried. The future absence of the “Ates and Kuyas” of the group was only soothed by a special skit, words scribbled on a card, and a small trinket. The comforting guarantee of their presence at rehearsals became a vague “maybe.” Though they promised that they would drop by the rehearsal room, everyone knew it would not be the same. Rehearsals would be different, waiting backstage would be different, and future camps would be different.
Every time we returned home from summer camp, we changed. We carried dirty clothes on our backs and new songs on our tongues. We had a new concert, a new skit, a new set of memories to share with our family. We may have even learned to play Pusoy Dos. The UPCS we knew also changed, and we learned to work with and through these changes, one rehearsal at a time, one summer camp at a time.
