Camping with Cumbia
Going to camp with my friend Cumbia was one of the most amazing times of my entire life. The times we shared together I will always remember because we were always laughing about something funny or dorky we did together. We were always in the bright sun getting burnt and freckling our noses. Our hair was always frizzy and static from the humidity but we didn't care. We had come to camp in Petrolia to have fun, not to be beauty queens.On the second day we were there, the memory machine started making memories. It worked hard. Cumbia and I decided to make shaving cream art but it got a little out of control. We covered our faces in the “beard buster ocean spray scented” men’s shaving cream. It was in our hair and it got in our mouths. It tasted like cologne might taste and the texture was all icky and pasty. To get all of the shaving cream off we jumped into the river and when we were in we screamed at each other in British accents. Yes, we have a weird relationship;like a shaving cream in mouth and hair kind of relationship.Yeah, we’re weird.
On the last night that we were at camp, we all sat in a circle, around a warm crackling fire. All thirty seven girls. We each lit a small candle to resemble the great times we shared at this wonderful camp. Almost the whole circle was crying about having to leave. I was crying. Cumbia was crying. Basically EVERYONE was crying. I buried my red eyes and my tear covered face into Cumbia’s sweater and she held me close. We were so close I could hear her heartbeat,and feel our friendship getting stronger. And it did.
The night was finished off with a shaving cream fight and a river of tears. We were so sad about leaving but yet still so surrounded by people we loved that they were tears of joy, not sorrow. And at that moment only one thing mattered. Love.
