About how unique it is when 4-5 different groups of nationalities are camping together whose languages are also different and where so many things are the same, regardless? This is what the volunteers of our international camping term are writing about:
Our international oncologic adolescent camping term ended on Sunday. And our volunteers will share its story with you:
‘In the beginning there was a made up word: Börgönc. And then there was a game: from one clean sheet of paper everybody tore off a piece in a way that the shape of the remaining paper resembled the shape of an elephant, and that paper-elephant was given the name Börgönc who witnessed one week in the life of ten Czech and Polish adolescent boys.
Börgönc was a unique little elephant that sustained on experiences, so every day at the evening discussion the boys shared their greatest experiences and ‘fed the elephant’ by sticking a little piece of paper to it. These were really sensational experiences: jumping off from a 9 meter (~30 feet) tall pole, catching their first fish ever, conversing with a very pretty blond girl who spoke a different language, writing a song, dancing with abandon in a discotheque, shooting a crossbow and hitting a balloon with an arrow, making the whole group laugh during the making of bracelets, dressing up for plays and making up a storyline, playing football with a fit-ball, riding a horse in a supine position… These are enormous, strong, and healing experiences and this list could be longer, and the boys certainly add even more to it as they are telling their story – already at home --, each in his own respective country. You may wonder what happened with Börgönc? The very last evening we could hardly find a bare spot to stick additional notes to it, so our little elephant could feed on those experiences for a very long time – and so can we.’ (Katyi)
‘Adolescent boys?’ ‘It won’t be so simple,’ I thought, when we received our schedule. However, the ice broke at the very first evening when Zsolti confessed to having loved playing football before he was advised against it because of his illness, and that he is sad about it. Two days later the boys celebrated together that Bart managed to get to the top of the ‘pamper-pole.’ The next evening Konrad was patted on the back for partying with everyone else and Zsolti stated that he will buy a horse for home because nothing in this world can be better than horse-riding. The name of our galaxy after so much catharsis (and courtship during our afternoon break) could only be International Love, where the inhabitants of the planets move around with their beating heart showing. And the very last night, when we, their buddies (“cim bi/cimbora”), received our bracelets and these 18 year old boys followed us onto the stage, showing their beating hearts, well… no eyes remained dry…’ (Györgyi)
‘Sometimes it happens that one is spoiled in life by fate that weaves its scheme so that one becomes a volunteer in the Camp of Braves (Bátor Tábor). First he sees the smiling pictures of the homepage or perhaps hears some stories so incredible that they sound exaggerated but then finds himself during training in the middle of a storm of bubbling happiness where from every eye the same sparks emanate as if secretly everyone knew that they came together for the purpose of stepping over their boundaries and unite in becoming a magic. And then the first kid of the group arrives and that’s when you know that everyday life lost its grip on you and nothing ever will be the same as it was before. It is when a one eyed girl’s gaze and sick little face with its lopsided smile overwrites in you the years of derisive laughs and grins of so many people; it is when you see that more life-force is packed in that one legged kid on the swing than in a churchful of people together that you realize that right here it is certainly not the body that matters. You maybe beautiful or sick or perhaps life has destroyed your body – so what? Nothing of that sort matters now, just soul, and we have one week for each other. You will become more and you turn into attention, and life will be filled with play. The happiness and the smile of the kids will be your purpose and that you help them to forget everything and to turn into children for the moment. You enjoy the week together and you try to give as much as possible and in turn you receive and learn so much that you lose your faith in words because they can say so little about what you lived through together. When it comes to saying good bye you hug them and you would like to hug them all and the whole world because you viscerally feel alive and feel that life exists.’
If someone can have his own private peace that he raises during his life, taking good care of it and sharing it here and there with others, then this very place is the flowerbed of peace. One goes home from here and the common days try to dull him down with a myriad tricks into whomever he had been before. The time spent in the camp is but a fleeting moment and the real happiness only allows itself to be discovered later: ‘wow, how happy I was!’ and when you utter this it has already flew away and you are ripped out of that moment. You arrive home and only after a while you wake up to what happened to you and what a blessing your good fortune allowed you to receive. Everything will change for a while – the odours, the colours – until your inner clock slows down again but you will already know that half of someone’s life can fit into one moment; as times stretches and contracts it hands out its gifts in various ways. You get on your bike in the morning and all those smiles will wait for you on the dewy meadows waking at dawn; and then the meeting of the eyes, the rushing life, the week filled to the brim with experience will nest in you. The time learns to stand still in you, that is how you take it with you – every moments – wherever you may go. (Tamás)
‘Like to be immersed in attention; to pay attention in a way that everything gleams; to understand people, not language – to me these were what this adolescent international camping was about. Why so? Because Michael wishes if we could all speak the same language but according to Pepa it would not be that much fun. Because the Czech Petr constantly giggles about the things the polish boys are talking about. Because Venca wonders how strange it is that she spent a whole school year with her classmates and at the end she did not feel anything special, while here in the Camp of the Brave (Bátor Tábor) after only one week together she feels like crying. Because Vita, who did not show any sign of enjoying the programmes explains during the last evening discussion on a serious tone that it is worth to be here because of the great experiences. Because according to Martin it is strange that the boys cannot make their bed nicely but if the sheets are in female hands a bed immediately becomes orderly. Because Tom would by no means choose a relaxing programme, since one can rest at home just as well, while adventures must be experienced and enjoyed. Because Michael says that he would have never believed that people of so many cultures and nations could get along so well, to which Pepa replies wisely: but we are all people, all of us, and we can solve anything. And I believe so. All that.’ (Vera)
