Independance!

I would like to start off by saying that I have had a brilliant week. As you read this, please imagine me grinning like a Cheshire Cat, that’s how happy I am!

So why, I hear you ask, am I so happy. Well, primarily I am no longer on crutches (please imagine fireworks, and crowds of people cheering). But that’s not all that’s happened this week. Feel the suspense, and read on…

On Tuesday, I had my appointment with an Orthopaedic doctor. The American health care system is full of paperwork! I was asked to arrive 15 minutes before my appointment, just so that I had time to fill out the 4000 sheets of paper (I might be exaggerating slightly). I then had to wait half an hour to see the doctor (almost made me homesick, reminds me of the NHS).

So anyway, the doctor prodded and poked my ankle, and nothing really hurt. I have one sore spot, and that’s about it. He said that I may as well walk on it, to help mobilise the damaged ligament. Thanks to this, it now only takes me 10 minutes to walk across the campsite instead of 40. I have some independence again.

The doctor’s practice was located about a 30 minute drive away, and unfortunately I don’t have Ernie with me (he wouldn’t fit in my luggage, despite all the American’s insisting he would…). The health officer, Pat, drove me there in one of the camp’s 4x4s. But not just any 4x4. It is the car, that if I lived in America, I would defiantly drive.

The car is well known throughout the US, as being the only car big enough to eat other cars whole! They are awesome. This particular ‘burb (as they’re called) is a 6.5 ltr V8, and gets an incredible 8 miles to the gallon on a good day. Being as big as they are (even bigger than Volvo estates), it is inevitable that they will hit something. Unfortunatly for Pat, we hit an American mailbox (which stick out a little).

Pat + Suburban = ?. No Algebra involved here, just one very Suburbaned mailbox. And this was after Pat stood the pole up from it's 30 to 40 degree lean.

Pat being the good American Eagle Boy Scout that he is (a Scout is honest…) stopped to check the damage, and tell the owner. I think it’s fair to say that the mailbox was well and truly Suburban’d (that’s right, it’s the only US car to have a verb). Also unfortunately for Pat, the mailbox is/was customised, and on a very expensive looking wooden plinth.

The driveway that lead to the house is about the same length as the M1, and to get to the house, you had to pass their tennis court, their swimming pool, their fleet of expensive looking cars… you get the idea. The place was so big it could have been a country club (although it definitely wasn’t). Poor Pat, it was probably a $600 mailbox, but we haven’t heard from the gentleman yet.

As much fun as Suburbaning a mailbox is, that was not the extent of my great week. Now that I am walking on my broken ankle again (which, by the way, has multiple fractures…), I am cleared to go sailing again. I can think of no better way of spending my day, than by relaxing on a sail boat, sailing in the sunshine. Marvellous.

The next day was Wednesday the 4th of July. The Americans were really nice, as they held a day all about me. Clearly everyone was so pleased that the orthopaedic doctor had given me my independence back, they had a day to celebrate it. They even called it ‘Independence Day’…

Of course not! This was the day that the US celebrate their independence from the evil empire of the dark side and the Darth Vader and his Death Star (or was that Star Wars?). Anyways, down with the Empire and all that. To celebrate, the camp had a giant flag folding ceremony. The flag was big enough to make a tent, yet there was no wind. It was more a flag draping ceremony.

Also this week, we didn’t have an attack of the death. We had no confirmed cases, and one and a half possible cases. Anyone that started to be ill were sent home. At check in, Scouts were asked if they had been ill in the last 24 hours. If they had, they were sent home. Every time someone was sent home, staff members bleached the hell out of their tents, camping areas, and latrines. It was only just possible for people to live this week, let alone any viruses.

Also this week, the programme manager (like a Chief of Staff) told me to fill out an application form for next year. So I did, and just for laughs, under desired salary, I put plane ticket. I left it in my tent, and went off. Later that day (bearing in mind, my application is still sitting in my tent), the boss came up to me and said, ‘So Andy, what would it take to get you to repeat this year?’ To which I replied, ‘A plane ticket Bill’. So he said yes.

The next day, I was in the office doing some ‘paperwork’ on my laptop, and another friend, Dylan, asked if I would be coming back next year. I said it was looking fairly likely, at which point a deep voice came form Bill’s (the boss) direction saying ‘Yes, he’ll be here next year’. Look’s like I’ll be coming back to the states again next year! How cool is that! Yes, it will cause NTC problems again, and yes, I’ll miss Summer in Britain again. But hey ho. I love it out here, and if I could, I’d probably do this for years. Why can’t we have America in Sussex?

But what really topped my week off though, was this week’s leader evaluations. On the forms, there is a section to identify particular members of staff that are good. This week, one troop singled me out for excellence, another troop listed me as a member of staff that was ‘most knowledgeable’ and another troop listed me as ‘most helpful’. What really took the cookie (notice the American-ism there) was that one troop listed me as the member of staff with the most Scout spirit. Well there’s irony for you, I’m not even really a Scout!

Over the weekend, a friend (Anthony) took me to a super large flea market (a car boot sale by any other name) called Q-mart. This is in the kind of town where everybody is either related to everybody else, of are sons and daughters of someone, and they just don’t know it. But the market was amazing. So much junk, like you have never seen. My friend picked up a compound archery bow for $5!

Well I hope Blighty is going well. Has Gordon Brown broken the country yet? I hope my car is okay, and Monty has avoided our neighbours cat trap (apparently we have a few stays at the mo – can you imagine the look on my cat’s face if he got caught in the cat trap… lol). I’d like to finish by saying that I am missing you all, but I can’t lie. A Scout is honest!

Lastly, if you haven’t already, please read the apology below. Apparently British wit is lost on the American people. Read right to the end, and you’ll find a surprise especially for YOU (not all the other readers, just for you).

For more things Andy in the US, you can visit the TS Intrepid Website at www.ntc.org.uk/intrepid/ock/. Lots of photos.

If you think it’s good that I’ll be in the US again next year, and would like me to stay out here permanently, so that I stop wasting your fine British air, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I hate you’.

If you think it’s good that I’ll be in the US again next year, because you think it’s a great opportunity for me, and you know I enjoy it, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I’m a figment of your imagination, as only angry Americans sign your blog…’.

Quote of the Week: ‘You know, it’s incredible. You’ve been in America for four weeks, and you still don’t have an accent?’ said a very confused Moo Moo (my Mum) on the phone the other day.