Workplace 33 - Summer Camping

Woo! This one’s going to be long.

I spent a few months working for a summer camp in Canada. 

Camp Chief Hector is in the gorgeous Rocky Mountains and has been running for nearly a hundred years covering 1000 acres of forest/mountain/rivers. All the campers and staff (called councilors) sleep in teepees, lighting fires at night to keep warm and eating together in the giant lodge.

I was part of the horse staff, crazily. The camp has a herd of about 80 horses and there were about a dozen of us on the horse team to look after them all. Everyone else on the team had either grown up on ranches, worked with herds or done show jumping all their lives, meaning I had a lot to catch up on really quickly! Each day we were down at the barn at 7am to bring all the horses in, get them organised for the day into their lines, fed, any first aid that they needed and then we rode bikes the 2-3k’s to the lodge to quickly eat before racing back down to the barn to get the horses ready before the kids arrived. Then the groups would rock up and the other horse staff would teach them how to groom, saddle up and basic riding instructions – go, turn, stop. That sort of thing.

My responsibility over camp was for the littlest campers. We took campers from about 8 years old I think and so rather than teaching them to saddle up and groom and things like that, I would take the oldest, most docile horses and saddle them up and lead them down to the big flat riding corrals where the kids would meet me. I spent my days down there, getting kids on and off the horses and getting them to walk around the corral. We’d play games and I’d teach them a few basic things. If the kids were doing really well I’d sometimes get them to trot but the old horses weren’t big fans of that. Every so often you’d get a kid who was scared of horses or didn’t like being so high so the councilors for that group would walk along next to them or lead the horse for them. My horses ranged from a massive black guy with feet like dinner plates to some tiny miniature horses and a couple of really gorgeous old nags that had been at the camp forever and were so obedient. I could go on for a long time about my old horses, they were so funny. I was incredibly sad to leave them at the end of camp.

As well as supervising the little chiniquays (the group name for the youngest camp group), we would sometimes go on staff rides. These were the best. We’d each pick our favourite horse and we’d just go way out into the open valleys and fields and run around like a crazy wild herd. Most of the other staff had their regular rides as they were out on trail rides twice a day but I chose a different horse most opportunities til I found my favourite. 

He was a dappled grey that was donated to the herd while we were at camp, and while he wasn’t ready for trail rides or for campers to ride yet I loved him. And hated him. He was so feisty and head strong but he was also 

one of the fastest horses at the camp and so beautifully fun to gallop on. The only trouble was getting him to stop. Heading out from the barn and running around he was so responsive and easy. Until it was time to stop and head home. A more stubborn horse I have never ridden (this isn’t saying much but still he was a pain in the butt). He would try and go any direction except home, even leaving the herd and brushing against things to get me off. Several times I just gave up and had to lead him home, walking in front of him and dragging him forward. This might say a lot more about my riding skills than the horse but I still chose him to ride for the rest of the camp as the first part of any excursion made up for the second. 

Other riding things – every two weeks a camp group would graduate and there was a ceremony in the forest with all their leaders and stuff and they would be lead there by two silent horsemen (horsepeople). It was all very symbolic and traditional and I hated it. Every single time we did this, the horse that I was one would lose it’s mind. I had a horse bolt, a horse that wouldn’t go near a particular clump of trees we needed to go through, one night we were doing it in a thunderstorm – horses are particularly easy to spook, I got kicked… They were awful. By the end of it I was on the most docile of horses, normally used for the kids, and begging to not have to do it. (Even then this horse suddenly tried to bolt from a deer that appeared ages away) I was so scared that I was going to trample a group of kids. 

I got pretty good at horse first aid. As I was at the barn more than most of the staff who were out on trail rides, I was tasked with making sure the relevant horses got their medicine, wounds were washed out and treated, eye drops put in… a whole range of stuff. Horses do not take medicine well so it was tricky but interesting work. Also I got really fit. Carrying saddles, bales of hay and children all day, as well as pushing around horses and a million other chores means you get buff in no time. It was awesome.

Other than horsey stuff…

All of the councilors got a day and a half off every two weeks and, as a staff team of 200 young people, we would choose a venue to descend upon and party out all our hard work. Days off were chaotic and messy and fun. Most of the next day was spent being very quiet.

The horse staff and the higher ground (high ropes/climbing etc) staff were really close, whenever we had time off we always hung out together. Or at meals. Or when there was nothing going on at the barn. Or after chores were done. Pretty much all the time. We were the resources team and we were elite. Oooh yeeeeah.

A million other stories happened over the two and a half months that I was at Camp Hector but you’ll have to come and find me to hear about those. Basically working at a Summer Camp is an incredible experience and I’m so glad that I did it. Anyone can go and work at a summer camp, I went through a great company called NYQUEST who looked after my placement and application, even arranging transport to the camp. The average age of the councilors is about 20 but anyone can go and work there and it’s such an adventure. Get into it! =)

My Teepee, Wakanabi

Workplace 32 - Crowded Control

A few years ago young Catholics from around the world descended on Sydney like a well behaved invasion. The overrun for those that didn’t fit in Sydney came to Brisbane and, presumably, other capital cities, for what was known as WYD SYD or World Youth Day. This is a catholic thing celebrating…youth? I’m not entirely sure. Oh wait, I have Wikipedia! Here you go:

“World Youth Day was initiated by Blessed Pope John Paul II in 1985. It is celebrated diocesan level annually, and at a week-long international level every two to three years at different locations. The international level events attract hundreds of thousands of youth from almost every country on the planet. It is a major part of the upsurge in Catholic Youth Work in some countries over recent years; for example, the Director of Catholic Youth Services for England and Wales has said of the event that it would have far-reaching effects, not restricted to those who attended.”

Wow. New thing every day.

So as part of WYDSYD in Brisbane, henceforth known as WYDBRIS (hmmm…) there’s this epic walk of thousands of young people from all the major churches through the CBD ending up at a catholic funpark and concert in Roma St Parklands. Each of the churches and the route were all prepped ages in advanced, roads blocked off that sort of thing and I got to be the venue manager for Albert St Uniting Church on the corner of Albert and Ann St. 

Albert St Uniting is a BEAUTIFUL old church. Not big and cathedrally but very cute and full of gorgeous little touches, stained glass windows, massive old organ etc. And it’s been there for 160 years! So the city grew up around it and it’s now hidden in amongst massive hi-rises but it’s such a cute little church. You should go visit. Take your Mum.

Anyway. So we get there nice and early and the different schools/tour/groups of catholics from around the world start gradually arriving. About 50-100 people per group and I think I had 4 different groups. Regardless the church was paaaaacked! They held a mini service and did a heap of worship songs while they were waiting for the walking procession to reach us.

Albert St was the last church for the procession and so it was ungraciously dubbed Fat Alberts as all the groups that had people that couldn’t make the full walking route were sent there. Please don’t be offended by this, it was just too convenient to not do it.

I remember while we were waiting for the main group to arrive, I became quite concerned that the church was actually going to fall apart. There were SO many people squashed in, all around the balconys upstairs and sitting on the stairs – just anywhere they could get in. And they were dancing and stomping and clapping like crazy in the excitement of all being together and worshiping in a foreign country. There was a lot of shaking of the building going on and I wasn’t sure I wanted this beautiful old churches destruction on my conscience!  Fortunately those builders knew what they were doing as the church is still there. The walking procession arrived and we all piled out into the street to watch it pass and join in at the end. I think it took a good half hour for it to go past but was entertaining to watch. Each countries group was trying to be more decorative and outlandish than the next so there were some funny things going on. Finally we were going and walked slowly up to Roma St Parklands. My favourite was these three girls who stopped to get a photo and more and more people kept jumping in the shot so it ended up being a photo of about 30-40 people by the time she could take the picture. This happened to every photo anyone tried to take of their friends walking. Was hilarious seeing people hurl themselves at any posed group.

The actual WYDBRIS park event was great. Big stage, some of the more important Catholics talking, there were stalls and food vendors and some activities scattered around and hundreds and hundreds (thousands?) of young people just having fun. Awesome.

So, working on a one-off international event is fun but challenging in terms of communicating with people who speak other languages. And the fear of destroying a heritage building is a bit nerve racking. Being a part of an event with a thousand ecstatic young people that didn’t need security is fantastic tho. Fun, friendly vibes all round =)

Workplace 31 - Barista for a Day

A while ago a couple of enterprising Brisbanites set up a website called PloyMe. It matched up employers and staff that were just looking to cover shifts. One-offs and short term jobs only. Was pretty fun if you were just looking for something to fill in time here and there.

This is how I found that Moray café in New Farm were looking for a barista for one day. It was a public holiday  – I can’t remember which one - but they were expecting it to be busy and couldn’t cover it with their usual staff.

So I rocked up there nice and early, got the lay of the place. It was really quiet, only one other staff member and the chef in the café. Made a few coffees and got to know how it worked for about an hour before one of the owners dropped by and mentioned that I was supposed to be there next week, not today. Oops.

I worked for another half hour or so then some cash in hand and off I went, an unexpected day for myself.

The next week I went back to a very different café. It was CRAZY busy, everything was manic. As with most cafés that are used to being quiet and suddenly found themselves with a line out the door, it wasn’t going great. We were running out of everything from clean cups to pasta, the owners were desperately trying to split up tables to make more space, sometimes with people at them and orders were flying everywhere. Pandemonium. I was absolutely swamped with orders and constantly running out of cups/spoons/beans… the café wasn’t prepared for this! I’m pretty certain they didn’t actually own enough coffee cups and mugs for the number of people suddenly in the venue so coffees were held up waiting for tables to be cleared by the frantic wait staff so I could get some clean cups. This went on for about 6 hours.

Needless to say I was very glad to get out of there mid afternoon and head home, my earned cash safe in my wallet. I’m sure it’s a lovely café on a quiet Tuesday afternoon but unless a lot has changed in the last few years, definitely to be avoided any public holiday.

Another feature of PloyMe was that employers could leave comments/reviews on you to give future employers an idea of what you were in for. According to Moray Café I was not very suitable for working in a café environment as they’d received complaints about how long people had had to wait for their coffees. Clearly this was my fault which I felt was a bit unfair.

Anyway, lovely location and generally pretty cruisy, Moray café might be delightful to work at usually. And PloyMe is a lot of fun if you’re just looking for random shifts here and there.