Introduction - Part IV

Camp Wanakita was nothing like our Bolton Weekend.
Four days and three nights at Winter Survival Camp. I think now would be a good time to mention how much I hate winter and snow and how I avoid going outside as much as possible when it is under 15 degrees Celsius. All Sixteen Outbounds (including me) and Eight Inbounds (exchange students from other countries who are doing their exchange in Canada) from 7080 had to meet the bus early for the long drive to Wanakita. Once we arrived and dropped our duffels off in the cabins, we were divided into two groups. One would be cross country skiing and the other would be quinzee building. This was my first time cross country skiing but to my surprise, I actually enjoyed it and though I’d still choose water skiing any day, I found I wasn’t half bad at it either. Quinzee building was something I definitely never did before, nor will I ever do again; but I have to admit it was kind of fun. A quinzee first of all, is an igloo (ice house) made out of snow instead of ice. We started by making nine foot or 3 metre tall piles of snow – and that is all we had time for our first night. Even though there was about 2 feet or 66 cm of snow on the ground and it was continuing to snow, everyone worked in their t-shirts because it was a lot of work - we had to make three quinzees (two for the girls and one for the guys) - and we felt very hot.
The next day we returned to our quinzees; over night they were able to freeze slightly and we began to hollow out the inside. We did this by digging two small holes on opposite sides of the quinzee (only big enough to pass through on your stomach) and tunnelling through to the hole on the other side. When the two tunnels met on the inside, we started digging the sides of the tunnel until finally the inside was hollow. Building the quinzee reminded me of when I was a child and actually enjoyed playing in the snow. Already I had spent more time outside at Wanakita than I did since the winter started. But that was only half the day. The other half we spent snow shoeing and orienteering with compasses through the deep and snowy woods. Though this might sound as lovely as a Frost poem, and to some people it was, I was cold, I had never used a compass before (does a GPS count?), I had blisters from my boots that weren’t broken in yet and I didn’t see why we were walking so far when everything looked the same since everything was snow covered anyway. I found out the reason the next day.

On our third day of Winter Survival Camp, someone thought it would be a good idea to have an eight hour snowshoeing/orienteering hike though the rough terrain of Wanakita’s woods. We were hot and tired, and when we stopped we were cold; however, the hike was a lot better than I thought it would be. Despite the weather, I would be lying if I said it wasn’t beautiful in the middle of the woods with cotton snow dwindling into perfect pallid patches and the baby icicles glazing every branch giving the trees an impossible luminescence. I wish I took a picture. We even walked across a frozen lake. Not only was it beautiful but it felt like an accomplishment that we were able to follow a specific compass bearing for hours and miraculously end up at the right landmark. All 7080 inbounds and outbounds are now expert orienteerers by the way (which means I never have to do that again). After a much needed dinner, everyone set out for an annual tradition of a moonlight sit. A moonlight sit is when we go into the middle of the woods (yet again) and sit with nothing but a lantern with a single candle and write. What we write is a letter to ourselves; usually how we feel about rotary exchange and what we hope to get out of it and some words of encouragement. The 7080 Rotarians will send us this letter a year later (February 2009, which will also be halfway through our exchange year) to where ever each of us are in the world and we will be able to glance at our former insight (or folly), but hopefully we will be able to recapture our initial eagerness and enthusiasm to make the very most out of this year and to make it our best year yet. This was my favourite part of Camp Wanakita, just complete tranquility (despite the fact that my candle blew out). Later we had a relaxing campfire, complete with hot chocolate, marshmallows and music. The end of the flames signalled the end of the day and half of us headed back to the cabins while the other half stayed put to take their turn sleeping in the quinzees. That night, it was my turn. Four girls could fit into the quinzee, but just barely. We were shoulder to shoulder lying down and if I stretched my legs, my head hit the opposite wall and I could not stand (only sit up) without touching the roof and I’m only 5’1 (about 1 metre and 2/3). Despite the uncomfortable proximity to each other, the sleeping bags and multiple pairs of socks, I was still freezing. That however, wasn’t the worst part. It didn’t hit me at first because the feeling was new, but after a while I started to feel like I couldn’t move or breathe; and I looked at the bags stuffed in the tunnel that allows us to pass in and out of the quinzee and all I could think for the rest of the night was “how fast could I push those out should this cave in?” I even started to hyperventilate at some point during the night, the one and only time in my life. I was claustrophobic, and I didn’t even know.
All I knew was that I couldn’t leave because if I left it would become too cold in the quinzee (which was why there were bags in the tunnel) and the other girls would have to leave also. So I stayed. I told myself that I was being ridiculous, and that just yesterday I was in a tunnel a fraction of the size to hollow the quinzee out. I convinced myself that even if it did cave in, it was only snow, we could dig our way out; and that if all the other students could do it than there was no way I was going to be the one who couldn`t. So I lay back down and the dawn did eventually come. It always does.
Even though I had to crawl, I came out of that quinzee victoriously. Not only had I gained an extraordinary experience to say the least, but I discovered and overcame my only identifiable fear; and all in one night.

On our last day at Camp Wanakita, we had a party to celebrate the beginning of a new rotary year; our new found friends, our new found skills and the fact that now we could go home to our fireplaces and high set thermostats. After the party we had a brief but pleasant departing ceremony where we each received a certificate of completion (and believe me we deserved one) and the Rotarians said something commendable about each of the inbounds and outbounds. I thought it was a perfect way to end the weekend. Before we bored the bus, we tried one last time to coax the Rotarians into sharing information regarding our host countries; but all they said was “that English isn’t the primary language where you will go” (thanks tips). Every one hugged said goodbye but our goodbyes would be short lived. In just two weeks we would all meet again in Brampton, and finally (FINALLY) discover which country we each would spend our year in. We waited.