Let me just say that I had one of the best experiences. Though it's not, like, in Africa or Antarctica. I still got hangovers but who cares! I may have sore throat now after lying on the floor and getting all scared, but after the camping, I just might want to go do those things again next year.
So I didn't attend our Brigada Eskwela because I will attend a vocamp (vocational camping) for altar servers. I had high doubts we will get the hang of it and we'll be so happy. Turns out all I need was a little unwinding.
The short travel from Amaya to Naic was already fun, because the wind was just so strong, and I feel like I'm in a movie, seriously! /hoping no one felt that. It was fun, but after hopping off the pickup, everything was just... chill bro, let's keep quiet. Patrick was so excited, while I was the contrast. From the start, camping is not my thing. And for an indoor person, it was a burden.
We arranged our campsites and tents and our things like we're in a real forest with baggages I never think of. Soon enough, I learned the 'thing' is quite fun. Or at least compensable tolerable. But the real spiritual essence was the short but really fervent time for sharing. It was an odium we were not really listening.
Although unequal in the eyes of other people, we had roasted pork for dinner. It was one of the best dinners ever, disregard the food. Just the scene of us smiling under a light bulb under the sky? Unlike the others. How luxurious.
The fun part? It was when the sky cried. Or bawled. We, or they, were sound asleep (or at least comfortably lying) when it happened. Even though we ought to know that standing in the pouring rain was distress and would bring us sickness, we still loved bathing and thrill. So yea, we got all our things and rushed to a room, and stayed there.
Changing clothes. Lying. Scary stories. Promise, my softer side showed. By that I mean not the hello-i-am-Ian-the-body-fat-man. I was the ohmygod-a-ghost-man. And Raffie added suspense. I can terribly remember how he gave me goosebumps because of some possessed act. And how a foul odor suffocated us, only to find out it was Patrick who fooled around. It was natural, though, that we had fun.
The next morning we had a procession and heard the mass at Naic Bayan. The church was superb, and I could feel my insecurities tingling. It was one hot morning... with the awarding and recognition rites and the eating part.
I could still smell the filthy odor of soil, the food and other trinkets that made me smile. We once again rode a pickup... and shouting Home Sweet Home. It was a fun fact: How I was being wrong all the time.
You know what? Despite our disadvantages, from the small number of participants, to the age matter. But the end of the day, we used it to make our stay worth it. It's a camping yes. But for me, it's more of a retreat. To renew our spirits. As altar servers. Although the speakers are obviously convincing us to be priests, even if they deny.
After the camp, we came back to reality: the serving. And we were more intimate. Promise.
'Kayo ba ay mga altar servers ng diocese ng Imus?' Tulad mo!
^That was our pickup line. Hahaha.
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