Extreme fishing death camp of justice doom took a toll on
our team.
Jonathan, Alex, and I woke up at 5:30 in the morning on
Friday. We wanted to be ready for our 6 am departure. We did not realize that
this was Ukrainian time however. We should not have been surprised when we left
for Extreme Fishing Camp at 7:30. We had been asked to leave early to help set
up. The rest of our team would follow in a couple hours.
When we got to camp, instead of doing anything logical or
helpful, we were told to rest. So we lay down and got out books and settled in.
About 4 minutes later we were told to come help dig a hole. Naturally, since we
were ‘extreme’ camping, we assumed we were digging a latrine for the camp. The
woman leading us, who spoke broken English, led us to the middle of a field and
started digging. I looked at my teammates in confusion and concern. I wasn’t
sure I was going to be able to use this latrine, as it was out in the middle of
an open field and provided no privacy or cover. We tried to voice our confusion
but the woman just shook her head and dug 3 additional holes. Now we were
really confused.
After about five minutes of hand gestures and use of each of
our limited mastery of the other’s vernacular, we finally understood (if you
can call it that) that we were not digging a latrine, but instead a mud pit. As
we had been told very little about Extreme Fishing Camp, and what we had been
told was communicated in bits of broken English, we were really at the Lord’s
mercy and stuck in a situation where we HAD to be flexible. ‘Is the mud pit
going to be used for a game?’ we asked. ‘Dah (yes)’, she said. Then, ‘you will
take this bath too'(smiling and nodding), as if that was supposed to assuage
fears or confusion.
Okay. Trying to be obedient and helpful servants, Jonathan,
Alex, and I started to dig and pluck grass in this square of the field. About 2
hours later, since we were working in the heat of the day, we decided to go
back to camp and get some water. Jonathan volunteered to go, as Alex and I
stayed behind to dig. Eventually Jonathan came back with my Nalgene half full
of water and said ‘They want us to come back. They took all the water. I snuck
this by them.’
Pause.
‘What?’
‘Apparently they confiscated everyone’s water, but Carrie
yours wasn’t with the others, so we snuck it out.’
‘Um…?’ Jonathan was trying to clear up the confusion, but it
wasn’t working. We passed the half full bottle of water around and walked back
to camp completely in the figurative dark.
Back at camp we were informed that we were no longer adults,
but rather ‘children’ and campers for the remainder of the weekend. And yes,
they had taken away our water. And no, we would not have any more help with
translation for the weekend besides what the kids could convey to us. And oh,
one last thing, it was boys verses girls, and I was a boy.
I haven’t been this confused, frustrated, or concerned in a
really long time.
We lined up for our first activity and my guy teammates and
I tried to communicate to the rest of our WR team, who we hadn’t seen all
morning. One of our teammates had already had a full emotional breakdown.
Jonathan, Alex, and I were concerned for our health as we hadn’t eaten in about
7 hours and we’d had only a few ounces of water. Plus, we were significantly
dehydrated from the digging of said mudpit. However, we participated in the
first activity and thankfully the prize for that activity was a huge bottle of
water for our team.
Let me sum up and say, I would not suggest ever sending your
child to Ukrainian Extreme Fishing Camp. Our next activity was to ‘earn’ food
by carrying it in our teeth through the mud pit we had created, army crawl style.
Other activities included ‘Run up the cliff (read: cliff) to get food out of a
bag’ (during which one of our teammates hurt her ankle and I earned battlescars
of scrapes of bruises all up my legs). And, my favorite game of all ‘Be woken
up at 6 am by a whistle to find the small Ukrainian child hidden in the
vineyard.’
If you are raising your eyebrow right now at your computer and
wondering ‘what the heck kind of camp is this?’ Good. Then you are
understanding me completely.
When we were finally able to debrief as a team on the first
evening we decided that: 1) Contrary as it might seem, the staff were not
trying to kill us (well, we didn’t think they were). 2) This was not a
‘Christian camp’ but rather a ‘Survivor’ themed camp. However, all the kids
knew our team was believers in Jesus and they were watching us to see how we
would act and what we would do. 3) We were all still really lost due to the
language barrier but figured the one thing we did have control over was our
attitudes. We decided as a team to try to have attitudes possible.
After that, things got better. Attitudes improved every day.
Some of us even started to have fun… but it was definitely a trying, trying
weekend. All of our other ministry so far had felt very fruitful. Hanging out
with the gypsy kids, helping with Bible studies and joining into games and
worship songs. Being in the village, sharing our testimonies and facilitating
English Club. But here, at Extreme Fishing Death Camp of Justice Doom, I think
it was about what God was doing in our team. Submitting to this ridiculous and seemingly
dangerous weekend brought fruit in our own lives.
This weekend one of our girls experienced significant
breakthrough in her personal life.
This weekend’s trials brought our team together in a new
way. A more real way. Last night (our first night back home) we had the best, deepest
feedback session we’ve had yet.
I’d like to clarify that we do not expect these things to be
normal for our future ministry situations. We expect most of them in the future
to be safer, clearer, more fruitful, more purposeful. But the point is, we submitted.
And God blessed us for it.
This picture was taken during our 4 minutes of relaxing. I
read the first page of my book.
