Ultimately there would be no premature exodus for me escaping "the Ranch," I would have to plow onward until my sentence was though. If I was going to stay, I figured I would have to mill around the courtyard and try to make nice with my fellow inmates. Apparently not many of them made lasting impressions with me, as most have blown away from my memory like a sneeze into an air-duct. Though most are gone, a few remain locked away in my mind-grapes.
Apparently those who sponsored the retreat were part of a worldwide organization, so there were imprisoned children from all over Rand McNally, rather reminiscent of that prison movie I referenced in the previous blog entry. There were two foreigners who I remember the most, a Dutchman who's name escapes me, so let's call him Jacques, as he was from the French border, and had a largely French accent. The other was a Swiss, likely named Johann or something; he was largely less noticeable as a foreigner, his accent was then, and looked like any other American youth. I'm assuming there were other alien children, seeing as there was more than one hundred in attendance, and both Jacques and Johann were both in my activity group.
Wondering what sort of activities we had to go though? Well, I'll tell you. There was the usual group talk mumbo jumbo, wherein you sit in a circle and talk about your alleged "feelings" and make visual representations of teamwork using carpet samples or some other malarkey. I was always lacking in these activates, as years of diligent training had led me to no longer have those human actions known as "feelings." So, as people would go around the group and speak about how we think hugs could end ethnic wars in foreign countries, or something. Whenever it became my turn to speak, my response would always disappoint, people would end up pouring their hearts out, over what was essentially nothing. Following their sob stories with my torpor towards the activity may have insulted their feelings, simply because I didn't have some tear jerker of a story to tell a group of strangers. Well, excuse me for being a robot!
Thankfully there were also some physical activities to be bad, seeing as we were in a large activity ranch, I suppose it made some sense. I think we spent an entire day out and about, doing physical labor, and being prohibited from eating or drinking anything. Unfortunately, I can only really remember a few of the things we did on that day.
One challenge given to us was to pass though a large rubber tube that had one end tied to a telephone poll, and the other being moved in a circular motion by one of the team leaders. You would have to time your movements just right, if not you would get a large smack in the back, and be forced to retry it, until you went through unsaved. I was the last to go, and being the maverick that I was, I decided to try another way around the double-dutching tube of death. I used my brains to analyize the trap, and noticed that the tube moved the least on the end tied to the poll. Grivously, my actions were far from graceful, as I flopped around on the ground like a fish until I bypassed the poll. Many a lady swooned that day.
The other activity I can recall was a mock minefield; the more I remember the more I believe that this retreat was just a front to recruit soldiers into the French Foreign Legion. We were taken to a secluded area in the woods surrounding "the ranch" and shown a obstacle course of sorts, which we were told was a mine field. The group of candidates were split into pairs, one of which would be blindfolded, while the other would shout directions of how to cross the field, without being dismembered. Thankfully I was paired up with the Swiss kid, who spoke fluent English, while he who was with the Dutchman, I can't say was as fortunate.
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