the train museum

Sometimes when it rains the activities at camp can be a real stretch, and drive kids and counselors absolutely crazy. It can be a lot of uno, wink murder, babyfoot, and card games. For our half day hike though, instead of having to entertain the kids for 3 hours when it was raining, the camp sent me and Julie to the train museum. About a 10 minute walk from camp, the train museum sits in town with surprisingly large space. The people who run it are true nerds, and passionate about their trains, but it gets completely lost on the kids who just want to run around and touch things (exactly what they are not supposed to do). It brought me back to the hobby that my dad shared with me when we built z-scale trains, and it actually was cool to see how they reconstructed a lot of the train towns. The immaculate attention to detail in these models reminded me of how my dad used to build his models, and revealed itself as very Swiss. In a way, it showed the roots of where my dad was coming from, as nerdy as it was. It was also kind of cool to see this one demonstration by the owner of a train that was over 100 years old, and was propelled by a wind up. 




Here is a picture of the train that goes up from Chamonix. The only Z-scale one. 

Music is the language that sets you free

Last night was definitely one of the best nights this summer. I had been bugging Kirk for a while about playing at the Jazz bar, Rhapsodie, and finally we set a date and made it happen. The instrumentation was Kirk on piano and singing, Alex on violin, me on drums, and Helmut (the owner) on Alphorn and Flugglehorn. We played two sets, and for me, it was an expression of music that had been building up for a while, and letting it out was the most soul-satisfying feeling. As a musician, being able to play something that the audience can feel without being able to put words to it, is the most incredible thing. From the feedback, everyone seemed to enjoy it, and a couple staff members said that it was the calmest they have been all summer by hearing the live music. We had a pretty large repetoire, and had so much fun playing every song. From latinified-techno songs like "harder, faster, better, stronger," to classics like "I will survive," "Summertime," "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone," some Alisha Keys and Coldplay songs, we kept it jazzy and lively the whole night. It was particularly impressive with Kirk who is really a Sax player - so he basically fakes it on the piano - being able to hold it down the whole night. The son of some famous piano player also heard us play in the beginning, Victor Rosenbaum, and bought us drinks. Helmut also let us know how he is going to sell the place, so this probably was the last time that we will play with him. 

3rd Session

So now the 3rd and final session of camp has begun.  Back in the juniors, with a very russified group, here are some enjoyable/distorted pictures of my campers.  In total, I have three from Moscow, one from Kiev, one from China and France, one from Guadalupe, one from South Africa, and one from England. They are a good group, and all get along quite well. I can definitely tell already that there will be a number of characters. In our drama class today, I convinced the instructor to do it outside, and we all went around camp walking in different fashions; like a robot, lord of the rings, zombies, on the red carpet, swimming, etc.. It was great because these kids are still at the age where there is no shame and they will do absolutely anything.  With the Russian boys, I have been learning new words. With my limited vocabulary we have some really good conversations. 

Dobre = nice/good

Sliznak = slug/bad person

Pajoot = bad

Te dobre?  Nyet dobre! Sliznak!! Ya ne sliznak, te sliznak. Pajoot!! Kagdila. 

sessions come and go, but legends are forever

This is my last day as a specialist, or Sensei Chris, and overall it was a blast, so here is a recap on a couple of highlights...

I had a number of records that the children could set which they got really in to. One of them was how many roundhouse kicks they could do without setting their foot down. This competition got heated when one boy Craig Einstein (yes, the great great nephew of Albert Einstein) was able to kick 305 times without setting his foot down. Another boy, Ascanio thought he could beat this record, which I promised him the chance to, but there never were open activities when he could come. So, on the third to last day when I had terrace duty, he brought out the shield, and on the terrace blasted away 350 kicks. Of course Craig was right there, and I gave him the right to rebuttal where he turned around and smashed 500 kicks right there on the terrace. Albert would have been proud.

 Craig, with Ascanio walking away defeated.


In the second half of the session, when I had groups for the second time, I also got to bring out the trampoline, which meant that people could fly off and do kicks. The "matrix kick" got really popular, where kids took off the little trampoline with one foot and saw how many kicks they could do in the air. As far as teaching a lesson goes, it made it a lot more of a relaxed lesson, but pretty much everyone enjoyed it.

Here is one kid who came to karate a lot doing a split kick. He wanted to learn how to fight people and defend himself, but clearly he will be most effective in a situation where he has a trampoline and can kick to people at the same time. 



What really made my day one day was when anabelle, who was filling in for Kirk brought a group to come Yodel in front of my karate tent. This all came about when I mentioned to her that Yodelling really should be an activity at camp.

mon ami de valais

On my next day off, I took off from camp the night before on August 1, Switzerland’s national holiday. It was raining pretty heavily, so instead of walking from my caravan all the way to the funiculaire, to get to Sierre, I played the odds of someone taking pity on me and hitching a ride down the mountain. 5 minutes later, after making l'autostop, three Portuguese ended up taking me all the way to Sion, after some mutually enjoyable conversation. The plan was to meet up with Matt in Martigny, a good friend from the Valais who I met two years ago. I got there early, and he was still up at his village Mex (20 minutes away) listening to his mother give a speech as she is the mayor of the town. I rocked out to some Swiss band playing some good waltzes and well known French songs. Matt got in just in time to see the grand spectacle of fireworks being shot off from the castle that overlooks the town of Martigny (or Octodure as the Romans once called it). It was much better spending Swiss day with Matt and his friends than at camp, because I actually felt part of something Swiss, even though it really turned into a high school reunion for Matt’s college. It was also funny how the kids came from all over, and traded stories about their different towns like how a wolf has killed fourteen sheep in Matt's town.

The next day was the perfect day off. I got to sleep in. I had a good two hour post-breakfast-philosophical conversation with Matt and his Father, Jean Pierre. As someone who travels the world and meets with officials to discuss sustainable development, Jean Pierre had much insight about how to go about fixing the world. One of my favorite expressions he said was “if you wouldn’t want to live in the house you help build, don’t build it,” in reference to the hypocritical double standard that exists with the UN. We then took off to go climb in Dorenez with Matt’s brother and met up with a friend from last night, Thiebault. I can’t even remember the last time I climbed on rock, but it has been ages. Either way, we climbed up some 6A/B cliffs which were anything but easy, especially for me with my shitty form. I made it to the top of two of the routes, which I felt good about, but Matt blew us all away. It was cool seeing the way to set the rope, and the different techniques that worked to get up rocks. I got pretty banged up climbing the wall, especially because the shoes I was wearing were 42s when my size is a 44. After a good four hours of climbing we took off back to Martingy and met up with more friends from last night.







Three rigorous games of Beach volleyball, and a couple dives from the 5 and 10 meter jump at the municipal pool later (one of the kids we were with was a life guard so he got us in for free), I hopped on the 8:38 train just to get into Sierre in time to take the funicular back up.

A good day off

I think it is a reoccurring theme that I spend all my days off climbing mountains. Yesterday, Amanda's and my day off, we decided to do the following…

We borrowed lift passes from camp (which are used by the seniors) and took the gondola and then tram up to the Plaine Morte Glacier at about 9000 feet. The higher you go, the better the view gets, and l’Haute Route is traceable by eye. Starting with the Mont Blanc popping up as the highest mountain in the mess of others, and moving left to the Dent Blanche, Zinalrothorn, Weisshorn, Bishorn, Matterhorn… From there we hiked around the backside of the mountains that loom above camp. The glacier is exactly as it is called in French, just a flat plain of snow. In other parts where there were still patches of snow, we slid down on our butts, which is always a blast. It brought me back to my first butt-sliding-in-the-alps experience with Alain on our way down from the Mont Blanc. We stopped at the wielstrubel hut, and then continued down with beautiful views and good conversation. We dined on my favorite mountain lunch (bread, gruyere cheese, salami, and a cucumber) up on some rock in the valley behind the mountain range, completely alone. Lots of marmot holes, but the only animals we saw were a colony of snails. Continuing down, we descended to a glacial lake that is dammed at one end, Lake Tsouxier. We got hit by a clearing shower or two, but it’s hard to mind when there is still a magnificent view and the sun pops out shortly after. On the trail back to Crans, I decided to take a “shortcut” that cut through a cow field, which ended up turning into a mountain goat trail. Unfortunately, the cows weren’t up for kissing me, for the ceremonial first kiss I got from a cow in Switzerland when I was 8. The mountain goat trail turned into a bushwhack to get back to the normal trail, but it was completely worth it. The trail was long and went over and around a number of cliffs. 9 hours later, we were back in Crans to a hot sauna and a dip in the pool. My legs are still sore though.

Other than days off, life here has been ticking along, with Cairo quickly approaching. Last night we had a specialist dinner which is a once a year thank you from camp to the specialists where they feed us endless good food and wine. It was a black and white dress code. Buffet appetizer of fish, and steak fondu and French fries. Two days before that I also got invited to the Junior dinner – which means the camp likes me, because usually you are not allowed to go to two. The scene there was much more intimate with the junior section, and the food was amazing. Starters were tuna tar tar with avacado, followed by a filet mignon cooked to perfection.

welcome to karate

In many ways this camp can be a bubble and a lapse in reality, but each day must be appreciated. As a specialist, there is a much different perspective. More or less, I do the same Karate routine starting with warming up and stretching, then bopping kids on the head with the noodle after teaching them how to block. It then gets quicker, and pretty much everyone tastes the wrath of the noodle. Today, Phillippe was in my Karate tent – a rarity, showing the camp off to two strangers. It was perfect timing for him to come and see me smacking children in the head. The lesson then goes on to different punches and kicks, keeping the noodle for blocking, ducking, and jumping. Some of the hilights are how many roundhouse kicks the kids can do without setting their foot down, or flying side kick. It’s pretty invigorating, times six. It makes the days tick by...