Camp America

I wasn't the first to arrive at the school for our camp meeting and so I was shown into a classroom where some of my fellow tutors were already getting to know each other. Along with Kitty and Lydia was a tall, laddish American that for the sake of my Pride and Prejudice comparison, I shall call Mr Bingley; a subdued and smart  American I shall call Mr Darcy (though he had none of the looks of Colin Firth); and a team-spirit all-American gal, that I shall call Jane.

I am now thoroughly lost in Pride and Prejudice comparisons, but it will just make interesting reading later on when newcomers happen across later entries and discover that Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy tried to engineer a human pyramid whilst Kitty took a photograph...

Though these tutors were new that year, (like me, Kitty and Lydia) they had been touring the country for about a month and had, thankfully, more experience than we did. They all seemed very pleasant - nice, proper, jolly Americans.

I was adding to my worry by the second.

We chatted a little, had some ice cream, and then we were given our classes. For the next two weeks I had the pleasure of teaching... 10 year-olds. Oh. I was spared the 7 year-olds, but it still wasn't what I wanted.

At this point the last member of our team of merry men and women arrived. I shall call him Mr Wickham for reasons that will no doubt become apparent. My first impression was that he was a British jack-the-lad that enjoyed a bit of banter. I must say I liked him a lot. He immediately stood out against the Americans (and Lydia, but then again if she stood sideways she did disappear).

So having met everyone, we made plans to go out for a drink in the evening and get to know each other a little better.

On my return to my 'old' house, my host dad had arrived - he welcomed me warmly and things finally started to seem to fit in together...