During the final days of the English camp in Sangeorz-Bai, a colleague contacted me about a change to the next camp I was scheduled to attend. Originally we were told that the camp would need two Peace Corps Volunteers at a time each week. As a result, a total of four Volunteers had signed up for the upcoming two weeks. It turned out that only one Volunteer at a time was actually needed; coincidentally, as it happens, the two Volunteers that signed up for the week preceding mine were not going to be able to make it and since I didn’t have any specific plans for the coming week I volunteered to go early. What this meant at the time was that I would have to take an overnight train Saturday, seventeen hours door to door, return to Valea Călugărească, repack and then make my way south to Snagov on Sunday afternoon. Fortunately, it turned out that the Tennis Instructor for the camp passed through Ploiești after a mountain biking competition and was able to give me a ride. And so, Sunday night I arrived at the Tabara de Tenis tired but excited about the week ahead.
One of my colleagues worked this camp a few weeks prior and talked it up quite a bit. This helped since I was a little bummed that the original plan of attending with a friend fell through. The camp is located on a large lake halfway between Bucharest and Ploiești, and is surrounded by a protected wild life preserve. Additionally, the camp takes place in and around facilities designated as the official training grounds of the Romanian Olympic Team. The camp was billed as a tennis camp, obviously, and also swimming; both of which take place on the tennis courts and in the indoor swimming pool of the Olympic complex. The lake is continually used for athletes to train for all kinds of water sports, as I can personally attest to. In fact, while I was there they were training for the World Championship competition scheduled to take place the third week of August in Hungary. Among other international teams, as an added bonus, I even had the privilege to briefly meet several members of the U.S. Olympic Canoeing Team. My Romanian camp counterparts and I regularly joked with each other about whose team was to win the upcoming competition. Admittedly, the athletes on the Romanian team are massive individuals, putting the Incredible Hulk to shame if given the chance, but size isn’t everything and my money is decidedly placed on the U.S.
The Tabara de Tennis accommodations are usually in athlete housing situated by the lake but due to the athlete’s training for the upcoming event we moved down the street a bit to give them some peace and quiet. Having said that, the housing was relatively nice, being the best in which I have stayed in conjunction with a camp related to Peace Corps. The tennis coach and I shared an apartment, each with our own separate bedrooms, with communal kitchen and bathroom. The facility had several such apartments, a restaurant in the front of the property and a large ballroom for parties which was perfect for movie night and some indoor activities on a couple of the rainy days we had. Splitting the two rows of double-decker apartments was a long driveway frequently used by the campers as they went around in circles on their bikes. The camp coordinators had even set up a portable, inflatable swimming pool for the campers to cool down on the hot summer days and the epic water fight that took place on the final day.
We had twelve participants in total for the camp ranging from eight to fourteen years old; each bringing their own unique personality. The typical schedule for the camp was as follows: Breakfast at 8:15 (though rarely actually started before 8:45), tennis lessons for one and half to two hours which were immediately followed by swimming for another couple of hours. Lunch was served around 1:30 in the afternoon and was without question the largest meal of the day, featuring bread, soup and then a well-rounded main course. After lunch was a short break, followed by a two to three hours of English related activities, then a second tennis lesson, which was followed by a healthy dinner. The day was typically closed out with games or a movie. Fortunately the campers were worn down enough throughout the day to hit the sack at a relatively decent hour.
In addition to tennis, swimming and English lessons, the campers had kayaking and went on a daily bike trip through the forest. I was fortunate enough to join them for one such bike trip that led to a small island in the middle of the lake. On this island is an historic monastery built several hundred years ago. It’s said that the head of Vlad Tepeș the Impaler is buried there and I did in fact see the alleged grave in the center of the church floor. The monastery is located on beautiful grounds surrounded by trees and obviously the lake. They have a small vineyard, garden and several goats roaming the property. The island is accessible by boat and a well-constructed bridge. Being that this is an historical site, the Romanian government is trying to encourage tourism to the monastery so much of the interior is undergoing renovation. Unfortunately the fee to take photographs is 20 Euros or about 85 RON, a hefty sum of money at 10% of my monthly Peace Corps allowance, so dear readers you will just have to imagine the majesty of the artwork on the inside.
The camp ended with a “foc de tabara” or “campfire” by the side of the lake. The waiter, and now friend, of our restaurant catered the event for us with shish kabob like chicken skewers with onion and tomatoes. What amazed me the most was that the skewers were grilled over coals taken from the campfire in its later stages. Potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil were thrown directly in the fire and buried. The campers had the distinct privilege of roasting their own corn with long wooden rods over the fire; as you can imagine several ears were lost or otherwise blackened due to fidgety little hands. The corn cooked in this manner, by the way, was dreadful and not a method that I would recommend. The chicken on the other hand was simple but fantastic. Marshmallows in Romania are a completely different entity than what we are acquainted with in U.S.; in fact, the only resemblance is in name. The shape, size and even colors are different. Here they are two inch long twists of three different colors; white, green and pink if I remember right. American Marshmallows are hard enough to keep on the stick, but the design of these makes it nearly impossible. Regardless of the differences in marshmallow construction, the kids had a great time.
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