"What the hell am I doing here?". That's all I could ask myself as the minutes and seconds slowly ticked away, exploring the depths of boredom, hunger, misery, and madness. What was I doing there? It was another volunteer work camp I had signed up for. There was one in Italy that appealed to me and fit my schedule. The description was nice... two weeks in a medieval town renovating park areas and participating in a mural project along with a group of international volunteers. It sounded perfect. It wasn't perfect. It was a nightmare. But looking back at the crazy memories, all I can do is laugh. Maybe it's because I'm not waking up on an icy concrete floor with 4 hours of sleep next to a pale Scottish girl who keeps creeping closer to me during the night. Maybe it's because the two immature Italian camp coordinators who were constantly arguing with each other and everyone else are distant memories now. Or perhaps it's because if I'm hungry, I can eat. But really, these memories are just so strange and surreal, I simply laugh when I think about them. It's hard to tell by the pictures what life at the camp was really like. It almost looks like we're having a good time. Most of us tried to make the most out of a bad situation. I won't go into all the details of the horror stories because I'm simply not motivated to do so. Besides, I survived... but a feeling still lingers that somewhere behind the bushes were cameras recording all the drama for a reality show. |
"A LOT A LOT A LOT A LOT"
That's Virio, the lead coordinator of the camp. I don't think he's qualified
to coordinate his socks.
After a quick informal introduction at the camp, we went for a little walk
up the road. There really wasn't anything of interest.
A dusty sunset.
That table... the center of all social activity.
We were presented a slide show explaining the purpose of the camp.
There were lots of pictures of people partying and getting drunk.
Booze was the one thing that was plentiful. On the first night, we
contributed €5 to the liquor fund because the "administration" did
not pay for liquor. As we'd soon find out, the "administration" didn't
pay for food or any other basic necessities either. Turns out this camp
didn't get any funding whatsoever... which is shit considering that
volunteers actually pay to be placed here with the understanding that
you work in exchange for food, shelter, and a cultural experience.
The girl on the right is Julie from Canada. We both agreed early on
that the camp was going to be shit. The dude on the left is Florian.
"Weird" doesn't even begin to describe him. In the beginning I tried to
be
friendly him and had him teach me French words. Halfway
through
the camp, I was friendly with him so that if he snapped and decided
to kill everyone in the middle of the night, he might spare my life.
The one standing is Giuliano. He's the other camp leader
and an emotional nutcase. He had a major inferiority complex
to Virio, and would constantly overcompensate by trying
to boss people around. Not me though... obviously.
Look at all those happy faces. Wake up time was at 8 AM, though we
usually didn't do anything until around 10. Our breakfast consisted
of stale bread with jam.
Gozde and Giuliano picking blackberries.
"work"
the first day. Took about 5 minutes. The town was going to
host John Renbourn, famous guitarist, and we were supposed to go
watch him perform. Like all other promises, that plan fell through.
A lunch of salad green greens and stewed eggplant. No meat... for days.
It doesn't sound like a big deal, but when you're only getting about 600
calories a day, your body starts craving something more substantial.
Eggplant, aubergene, melanzana... whatever the name,
we had way too much of it. It was Virio's favorite food,
so it was part of every meal for almost a week.
Turkish girls, Gozde and Deniz. For some reason, they were the center
of a lot of drama because the others at the camp had a problem with them
speaking Turkish amongst themselves. It felt like high school all over again.
Second task of the day, look for wood laying around in a forest so we
can build a bonfire and have a party. Really, there was nothing better to do.
That's Nuria from Barcelona. She was very friendly.
That guitar saved me from going insane at the camp.
"Work". I recall moving one garbage can and setting a few dozen chairs.
So I established that this is why Virio organized the work camp.
The "community footpath" that was mentioned in the camp
description was this area here. Virio is an avid rock climber and
really wanted to build himself a rock climbing recreation area.
So we were just his free labor.
Lunchtime. Eggplant parmesan. It was actually good. It even had
cheese. There simply wasn't enough to properly feed 12 volunteers.
We were always scraping the sauce from the pans with pieces of bread.
One evening, we visited another work camp that was finishing
up in
a few days. It was disheartening to learn that they were
housed in a spacious convent that had real beds and a well
stocked refrigerator. They even had their own rainbow...
...and a vineyard.
It was strange mingling with the other volunteers who were in a better
situation than we were. It was like the paupers visiting the princes.
We were treated with authentic brick oven pizza prepared by a pizza
master. It was funny how the people from our camp were stuffing our
faces like we were beggars, and the other volunteers were like, whatever.
Then there was dancing. That guy in the red shirt is named Fabbio.
haha... Fabbio.
And drunk Virio trying to get his hands on every female in sight.
Sort of explains why he organized this work camp.
And drunken human pyramids. At this point, it was about 2 or 3 in
the morning, and most of us wanted to go home. But our rides were
getting more and more drunk... great. We hitched a ride with Carla,
a nice girl from town. Most of our group stayed overnight... when they
got back, they told us stories of Florian sitting and staring at them while
they were sleeping... freaky.
"EXPLORING THE DEPTHS OF BOREDOM"
A tennis court... but no tennis racquets.
This is the MOST ridiculous work tasks ever. Manually clear this mound
of rocks and plants so that a tractor can pass through. Okay... I don't
know much about construction equipment, but isn't the JOB of a tractor
to move this stuff? Anyway, after a few hours, we finished the task...
The very next day, the mound was back. A tractor moved the rubble
back in place.
A medieval tower overlooking the village.
The work was so pointless... but it sure beat sitting around and doing
nothing at the camp.
Enjoying gelato with Muriel, a very friendly German girl, and Jean-Marc, a normal
French guy. This was at the bar. Not just a bar, The Bar. The bar in Italy is not like
one at home. Sure, they serve alcohol, but they also serve coffee, gelato, and snacks.
They also sell tobacco, lottery, bus tickets, and all sorts of convenience store items.
People of all ages go and hang out and socialize there. Just like a movie.
Mami and Kaai... guess where they're from. Crazy thing is, they came
all the way to Italy just to participate in this work camp. Oh my god,
they'll probably never want to leave Japan ever again.
The sunsets were nice when we actually got to go out and see them.
Some local kids. I really wish we had more of an
opportunity to interact with the local folks.
Poggio Catino. It's not even an hour from Rome, but
it seems like time stands still here.
"Charles, take picture for us". Gozde and Deniz love posing for the camera.
I climbed to the top of the ruins to get a nice view... and to get away from people.
This was funny... "Work" was to cut down the plants growing in the
forest. "How is this environmental work?", I remember Julie and
Jean-Marc asking Giuliano. The response wasn't pretty, I remember
argument and even tears. When things cooled down, I had a talk with
Giuliano. He admitted that the work was shit because there really was
nothing to do. It was funny because I had to speak to him like he was
a 3rd grader to keep it simple and not complicate the situation further.
Muriel's legs totally destroyed by mosquito's.
Giuliano calls a meeting to openly discuss the problems of the camp
with Virio. He didn't see any problems though, so nothing was resolved.
The funniest memory of the meeting was when Florian voiced his
issues about the camp and then emphatically slammed the table and
said, "I-AM-LEAVING-THE-CAMP". Not a moment too soon, I say. But
it makes me wonder why I didn't leave the camp early as well. Maybe
I was curious to see how bad it could possibly get.
The most exciting thing that afternoon, a water fight. Wow, we're bored.
One thing we had plenty of was fresh water. Okay, I guess that
nothing to be excited about.
Creative ways to make use of a tennis court.
Poor Giuliano.
One afternoon, we had nothing planned. Actually, there was usually
nothing planned, but we were told so this time. With the ounce of
freedom, a few of us went for a walk. Beware of cow.
We wish.
Some old cave with early Christian paintings.
It sort of looks like a hand or a puppy. I don't know, it amused me.
Take a compact Italian car, stuff it with 8 passengers, and wildly drive
it down narrow winding road. It's quite fun. The freakishly pale girl
wearing glasses is Elizabeth from Scotland. No one could stand her.
Imagine someone who speaks to you in a sugar sweet tone like you're
a kindergartner, except that you're not. Then imagine that the person,
being a native English speaker, takes it upon herself to define every
word that pops up in a conversation that a non-native speaker seems
to have trouble with. Which is almost okay, except that I speak
English too, I really don't need the help. And I'm sure they can figure
out the meaning of the words themselves if they just had a few
seconds. Then imagine that person ALWAYS having to contribute
something to a conversation. I MEAN ALWAYS FUCKIN' BUTTING IN!!!
Like when the German girls are helping you count in German,
Please! I DON'T CARE THAT YOU CAN COUNT from 11 through 20!
And always completing your sentences like you don't know how to
complete them yourself. Then imagine that person sleeping in
the
space of concrete next to you every night, never seeming to go to
bed until you go to bed. And butting into conversations even in
your sleep... FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS. THAT was Elizabeth.
Okay, i'm done.
The other volunteer camp came to stay the night at our camp. It was like
royalty visiting the peasants. "haha.... look, they use frying pans as racquets,
how quaint."
Florian falls drifts deeper into the depths of insanity. By this point,
everybody was ignoring him because he was speaking non-sense all
the time, eating is snots, and masturbating under his sleeping bag
in the middle of the day. I'm not kidding. He was even scarier this
night because he was also totally drunk. The thing I don't understand
is that he's actually a university student in Paris at the Sorbonne.
How dare the people at the other camp have a good time?!
I hated them. They held the cheese hostage. Fuck them.
MEAT!!! Oh my god. Sausages have never smelled so good in my life.
Giuliano and Julie reconciling... again.
That's Katerina from Germany... haha... cough cough
Scary
Alcohol washes troubles away.
"GETTING CIVILIZED"
The other camp left behind Nala, Virio's dog. Bitch got
fed more than us. Jean-Marc and I made plans to roast
her on the last day of camp and have a feast.
I'm not a fan of milk. But during breakfast, I made cafe latte,
with a LOT of latte. I'll take any protein I can get.
Halfway through the camp, we were given a few days probation. So we all took a bus
out of town to Poggio Mirtato. Look at the happy faces of freedom.
I don't know what to call these. They're randomly scattered
on sidewalks all over Italy. I guess people pray at them.
RUN!!!
I carried the water bottle everywhere I went... like a reminder
of the fact that this wasn't reality... just part of a longer journey.
We were setting up the chairs in the town for a concert by this guy.
We were supposed to go see him, but of course we didn't. It's a shame
because he's supposed to be one of the best guitarists in the world.
Cover up either half of this picture, it's weird.
FOOD!
I always imagined Italy to be like this, and it actually is.
This is their public library.
Some everyday Italian workers.
This is what old men in Italy do. Just hang out with their buddies in the evening.
The passion starts young.
Pumpkin ravioli. It was good. The shame about the food situation is that
Italian food is really good, and Giuliano is actually a really good cook.
There was simply nothing TO cook. Oh yeah, this picture also reminds
me about how LATE we had dinner. I know Italians eat late, but waiting
until 10 or 11PM was ridiculous. One night, we didn't have dinner until
past midnight.
Don't fuck with me. I'll never take a warm bed for granted anymore,
as well as personal space and privacy. Oh yeah, by this point, I also
caught a cold and was coughing out a lung every night. I never imagined
Italy to be so cold at night in the middle of summer.
Halfway through the work camp, we were given a free day to visit Rome.
Originally accommodations were supposed to be taken care of, but then
we were told we'd have to take care of it ourselves. It didn't matter, I'll
take a day of civilization. We learned later on that Giuliano did arrange
accommodations for us and even prepared a lasagna dinner for the whole
group, but Virio didn't tell us, because he didn't want us having fun in
Rome with Giuliano. Haha... just more of the shit
they put each other
through. You can imagine that the tension between those two was
really high the next week.
A grilled panino at McDonalds. What???
A typical gas station in Rome.
I mentioned before that Rome had great water that constantly flowed
out into the streets. The faucets cleverly turned into water fountains
when you plugged up the hole.
An Italian guard with his funny hat.
Quirinal Palace. This is where Italy's president lives.
It's not obscene, it's art.
Me and Julie at Fontani Trevi. The superstition is that if you
throw one over your shoulder, you'll return to the city, two
and you fall in love with an Italian, and three, you marry
an Italian... or something silly like that. Anyway, I threw
four in, let's see what happens.
Some guy trying to find his fortune. He was taken away security soon after.
Now this makes the fountains in Manchester REALLY look like shit.
The obelisk outside the Pantheon. There are so many of these
things in Europe. I was thinking, we don't have these at home,
but then I remembered the Washington Monument is one.
A huge one.
A crazy American woman Julie and I ran into at the Pantheon.
At first I took a picture for her, then she kept on following us
around and talking to us. Maybe she hadn't had an English speaker
to talk to a while or something, but she just rambled on and on.
This picture of the pope frighteningly looks like Bush.
Dramatically homeless.
There are a ton of street artists in Rome. I guess if you're
gonna do it anywhere, this is the place to do it.
Castel Sant'Angelo. Marble statues line the bridge.
This was creepy. We went to a crypt that was entirely decorated with
with the bones of 4000 Cappucin Monks. Ponder that when you take
your next sip of cappuccino. There was no photography allowed here,
but I snuck a few with my skills. There was a stupid American blonde
girl next to us that took a picture with flash though. Immediately, the
woman who worked there got hysterical and yelled at us and kicked
everyone out. I don't blame her for going crazy though... imagine being
surrounded by thousands and thousands of human bones everyday.
A Lamborghini
More random sculptures.
Typical traffic in Rome.
Italian beer. Not very good.
No, we didn't stay there. We all split the cost for 3 rooms at a 2 star hotel.
I don't remember a hot shower, a bed, and TV ever feeling that good.
Back at Roma Stazione Termini, it dawned on us that the few days of
fun were over, and we have a whole other week of madness ahead of us.
"WHAT A LIFE"
Half the volunteers were sleeping in tents outside. waking up to the
sound of barking dogs early in the morning. At least they had a little
privacy.
On my cooking day, Julie planned to make couscous. I didn't have
many ingredients to work with so I made homefries. Delicious. We
were well fed and ON TIME for lunch that day... not waiting until freakin'
three o'clock in the afternoon.
Someone brought us tennis racquets... maybe things are
looking up. Those are my boxers.
Virio demonstrating this mural painting technique. I wasn't impressed.
Virio testing out his rock climbing wall.
mmm... authentic lasagna.
We were out late at the bar working on our "mural". Since not everyone
could be drawing at the same time, Muriel entertained us with a clapping
game. She taught us an African song that went with it later. Good times.
Muriel and I work on our faces. Whoa... I have a really vivid memory
from that night. I haven't taken the time to tell any stories, but this
one sums up the whole experience.
Some of us were getting tired of sitting around and doing nothing at the bar, so we asked for a ride back to the camp. My mistake was not going straight to "bed". It was my first moment alone all day, so I laid down in the middle of the tennis court to gaze up at the stars and enjoy the peace and quiet. The night was clear and shooting stars frequently streaked through the night sky. The peace didn't last long because the others decided to join me. First, Giuliano came over, and we talked about the constellations. He's genuinely a nice guy when he's not constantly being antagonized by Virio the girls. Then Julie joined in. She and I tried to explain to Giuliano the difference between calling a woman "pussy" and calling a guy "a pussy" in English, and why he shouldn't say things like "come here pussy". It's harder to explain to an Italian than you might realize, but he eventually got it. All the while, Elizabeth was echoing every word that came out of our mouths, but we learned how to ignore it by this point. Nuria, Muriel, and Katerina returned from the bar and joined us at some point. It was a chilly night so we went and got our sleeping bags. We continued joking and chatting about random stuff. A car came up the driveway. Virio, Gozde, and Deniz were back. As a prank, we all pretended that we were sleeping. Virio, always trying cause trouble, told the Turkish girls that we were probably conspiring against them. It wasn't much of a big deal, but this somehow upset Giuliano, so he got up and confronted Virio. They started arguing. Virio went inside and flicked a switch, blinding us with the bright tennis court lights. He returned, demanding that we resolve any issues we had with him, the camp, the Turkish girls, THEN and THERE, Gestapo style. Since it was too late to be interrogated, we told him to turn off the lights and go away. He did turn off the light, but his fight with Giuliano continued. It's hard to describe what two hot headed Italians arguing sounds like. They don't use a particularly loud tone of voice, but you know they aren't saying nice things. I don't think I've ever heard "vaffanculo" said so many times in one conversation (that's their equivalent of "fuck). Gozde and Deniz came over and joined us on the tennis court. Nuria understood some Italian and tried to translate their argument for us. So there we were, watching an Italian opera as the hours wore on and the air grew colder. 2 o'clock, 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock... We could've gone to bed, but that would've meant walking past them, which would've been awkward. And I think we were waiting for fists to be thrown. |
Hey, she went directly to bed that night, there's no excuse for being tired.
I love positive? That doesn't even make sense. And she shouldn't be
positive. The job in The Pit was to clean out the garbage that the
townsfolk dumped. It was truly disgusting and hazardous. We found
everything form used tampons to chemical waste. Really, this was a
job for the Haz-mat team, not teenage girls with cotton gloves.
Destroyed.
During the second week of work, I was designated camp photographer.
Damn right!
I am Charles, the weed whacker... out to destroy what the tractors left behind.
Mortadella sandwich. I have to admit, we were fed a little bit better the
second week.
One afternoon we headed down to a river to relax. The other dog is
Simba. Get it? Nala and Simba.
But I don't like water!
My destroyed sandals.
A porcupine quill Muriel found and gave me. It's one of the few souvenirs
I kept during the whole trip. I can't count how many times it stabbed me
while I was searching through my backpack.
Italian folks hanging out at the bar.
Really, that's what Italians do...
hang out with their buddies. What do we do? Go home and watch TV.
*sigh*
Me and my sickle. It was actually quite enjoyable slashing through vines
for hours and hours. It was like practicing straightsword on something
besides air.
I don't blame the other volunteers that the mural looked like shit. The materials
were horrible and the idea was horrible... I don't think we ever finished them.
Julie slept in the shack as well. One morning, she told
me that I was making motorcycle noises in my sleep.
I pride myself on not snoring or making funny noises
when I sleep, but considering my mental status, I
wasn't surprised.
Gozde cracking some nuts.
A fresh walnut. Never had one before that.
The other dude is Lazio from Hungary. He and several other came from
the other camp to help out the second week.
Don't jump Giuliano... there are better days.
Handwashing my laundry. Thanks for the soap Julie.
Wow, a decent meal. There was no meat, but still, It was satisfying.
That night, went to another party. It's not that I don't like parties. But a
party is usually to celebrate something, and there was nothing for us
to celebrate. I think we were there because one of Virio's friends was
having a birthday. Anyway, we were surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
There was an abundance of food though, so it wasn't all too bad.
Look at all those happy partying faces.
I bet you yawned just now.
At around 3AM, were were tired, but Virio was nowhere to be found
and Giuliano was making out with Nuria, so it didn't look like we were
going back anytime soon. Luckily, Carla saved the day again and offered
to drive
me, Jean-Marc, Kaai, and Mami back to camp. I couldn't wait to
lay down, even if it was on icy concrete. During the drive back, the truck
started swerving on the road. We got out to take a look, it was a flat tire.
No biggie... we'll just put on the spa... Ohhh... there is no spare tire.
Why am I not surprised? Carla returned home driving with a flat, and
the four of us continued walking 3 miles uphill back to camp. Jean-Marc
and I entertained ourselves by scaring Kaai and Mami with ghost stories,
but that didn't change the fact that it was a shitty situation. What made
it really shitty is that right when we returned to camp, a car pulled up.
The others returned from the party.
Buongiorno
If you wondered how I was able to take so many photos
during my trip. It's all because of that nifty device. It's a
60 GB external hard drive
with music/video/photo playback.
That, along with my travel journal and money belt were the
three things I guarded with my life the whole trip. Which is
why the next story was almost a real horror story.
As you can see, I slept near a wall adjacent to the bathroom, so it was irritating to hear everybody walking past me to do their business in the morning. But the real problem is that the showers didn't have proper drainage, so people had to make sure the water stayed contained in the shower area, and mop the floor. They usually did a good job, but one night Kaai was taking a very long shower and was oblivious to the fact that she was flooding the bathroom. When the water had no where to go, it went straight out the door. All my stuff was drenched, the sleeping bag, clothes, my back pack... SHIT! I quickly pulled it away from the door. The horror of all that can go wrong went through my head, but I made a GREAT choice when I bought the bag. It was waterproof. So even though it was swimming in water, the inside was still dry. Same thing can't be said about my language book and eurail timetable though. I was looking at those earlier and didn't put them back. The timetable book was destroyed. That doesn't seem like a big deal, but to a backpacker traveling by rail, the timetable book is the Bible. I struggled the rest of my trip to figure out train schedules. Kaai got out of the shower and discovered the mess she created. She helped clean thing up and started crying. That was annoying. The water also encroached upon Elizabeth's stuff, and she was trying to be all helpful and consoling to Kaai. That was adding my state of annoyance. But here... HERE... is the real kicker my friends... the very next morning. THE VERY NEXT MORNING, guess who takes a long shower and floods the bathroom and my stuff? Elizabeth... I was at a loss for words at that point. |
It was fun showing everyone my quaint little card game... LYNCH!
Tobacco... ugh. So many people in Europe smoke. It's disgusting.
Julie made a special friend in town :)
Virio demonstrates the last step in his personal mural technique... create shaded
areas with a thick layer of black paint. At this point, I absolved myself from taking
any part in the disaster.
Jean-Marc is psyched. Just one more night!
Muriel is an amazing recorder player. I am good enough to strum some
chords. That's all we needed to entertain ourselves for hours.
Elizabeth shows us a Scottish dance. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 switch 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8
switch 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 switch 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8
switch 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8
Kaai and Mami present gifts from the far east.
Looks like Giuliano's had enough of us too. Unlike Killarney, these
weren't very difficult goodbyes. Besides, I planned to visit the friends
I made later on in my trip. And about the others? Sayonara.
Which way should I go? It doesn't matter... I am free!
Backpacker Rule #13: Beware of work camps in Italy.
Backpacker Rule #14: Today's miseries are tomorrow's memories.