I joined the
Girl Scouts when I was in sixth grade, after meeting Stacy and her family. Her mother, nicknamed Smokey, was my troop's leader. Stacy's family was a late '80s version of the Brady Bunch: 3 brothers and 3 sisters, but the gender grouping was not as us/them as the Bradys. I remember one of our meetings at Smokey's house, all the girls piled on the floor in the living room, listening to the troop leader speak, and picking out the next badge we'd work towards as a group. I don't remember the troop meetings as much as I do the summers away to camp for weeks at a time.
Camp Wahi. It felt like it was hundreds of miles away from home when Mom drove me there for the week. I rarely got homesick; I'd come home after being gone a couple of weeks and Dad would say, "You were so busy you never wrote a letter home." I wasn't like some girls, crying at night because they missed their mothers and fathers. I missed mine, but I also knew I would see them again in a week or two. They weren't gone; they were right where I left them.
I went to Camp Wahi three summers in a row: '89, '90, '91. Each Summer felt completely different. The girls were different, gone in a flash each year, not to return again the next summer. Two of the summers I stayed there I camped in the tent cabins. These housed four girls at a time, four beds, two on each side with an open space in between. You stored your suitcase and boxes and bags and books under your bed. You brought your own pillow, sheets, blankets. Mosquito spray. If you brought a book you never had time to read it, after being tired from hiking or crafting all day, swimming lessons, playing games or pranks with other campers in their tents. Every summer was different. Some were so filled with activity that I cannot remember them all in the blur of faces and fuzzy recollections.
One summer I met Anne. I remember her because her name was my middle name and when we discovered this we became instant friends. I was in her tent constantly, listening to her walkman, sharing stories, playing games, and looking at magazines. She told me a lot about her family. I listened to the stories, the mysteries and the mythical, but none of those remained all these years. I do remember her extra nipple though. She wore a one-piece swimsuit and whenever she met someone new she had to share her story, show them her third nipple: a faded, slightly raised area that never really formed fully. She was an interesting little soap opera, bouncing around, energetic, all-nighter to my night owl habits. Mornings were never good to us.
The next summer there was Robin. She wasn't a camper like the rest of us, but a camp counselor in charge of a few cabin areas. She wasn't my section's camp counselor, but I saw her during some of the camp functions, in the mess hall, at the pool, all over the camp. She had short hair, an easy-going personality, always smiling, playful and fun. I remember the first day I saw her because I only saw her from behind and thought to myself, "what? A BOY here at Girl Scout camp?!" But then she turned around I realized her features were feminine, plus her smile was big and her eyes lit up when she talked with you. I don't remember much else about this summer... I think I was there for the off-camp camping trip session. Canoeing to the other side of the lake, setting up camp, tents, getting wood and tinder, campfire, s'mores. Hoot owls, star constellations, singing around the campfire. But Robin wasn't part of that session and was back at camp with the other girls for swim lessons, crafts, or some other Girl Scout activity. Maybe it was knots she instructed?
The third time I went to this camp I was a little older than most other campers, and the camp counselors I knew in this session reminded me of my sister. One of them was nicknamed Scottie. She had dark wavy hair she sometimes wore in pigtails. Remember, this is '88 or '89. I remember less about the friends and the camp counselors than I do about the activities. I found a raccoon pawprint, made a mold of it, and earned a badge in wildlife. Learned the names of trees and flowers in the area, and some other things. Might have created a book with various leaves in it, labeled with names, type of tree, etc. This session we were not in the tent cabins but in the log house, which I didn't like as much. It just didn't seem like camping to me. This was my last time to go to Camp Wahi, and my last time to be a Girl Scout. I was always a junior and never promoted to cadet, which I noticed on the
Girl Scouts website isn't called that anymore.
Maybe sometime I will drive out to Brandon, Mississippi, to see the camp. I think large parts of it would have been renovated since the years I ran around, hiking up and down small hills, swimming, making leather crafts or tie-dying t-shirts. My appreciation for nature was encouraged there.
Labels: childhood
Some time later she and David came back to Oxford for the 
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