I signed up for Y-camp because I wanted to try something new. I didn’t know it clashed with my revision schedule for the CT1s. I was later told that a straight 4As/5As is an ideal to work towards in JC life. Then I went for Y-camp.
I was attached to Bo (not real name), my buddy for the 3D2N camp with them. We call them “benes”, short for beneficiaries in the camp. The camp really was for intellectually disabled persons, from different welfare organisations, to challenge themselves (“Y Camp Challenge”) in creative arts, high elements, camp craft, and a little song & dance.
Bo didn’t dig any of that. He is 24 years old and has Down Syndrome. He is plump and is shorter than me by about 2 heads. He has a life, and a face, scarred, because another chromosome decided to slot its way to his genetic makeup. Since the 1-day orientation before the camp, I got to know him as a person whose life revolved around movies, songs, dances. That filled his life since he got to know the movies that would dominate a person of around 12.
Bo didn’t do much of the other activites. Where others were playing obstacle course games, he spent his time under the shade, singing. We sang songs anywhere from the range of Doh-Re-Me to “My Heart Will Go On”, from “You Are the Music in Me” to “Fabulous” from High School Music 2. It was pretty much the same for the rest of the camp too. Where others were doing high elements, he was under the pavilion writing letters, two apologising to our camp group leader (Val) and how he promised to “play the next time”. He wrote one for me, telling me how “we good brother” and “we sing high school musical and mamma mia together”, in kid-type. I still keep that piece of blue paper. Where others (even physically handicapped benes) went for dragon boating, we sat on the bench facing the sea, and started singing national day songs. He didn’t do the next activity (camp craft) either – he sat on the pavement drawing Transformers figures and Pokemon balls. So we integrated that drawing into the camp craft structure.
At the end of the camp, there was nothing short of a full-blown emofeste. Some volunteers cried – a few out of pity, others out of genuine friendship. I didn’t shed any tears, not because I didn’t already miss my bene, but I have never believed in emofestes as a good way to end any thing.
It seems easy to form a friendship with Bo. Start singing a song he likes, and he’ll sing along. Start playing dance music, and you’ll see him race in front of the stage and dance with a passion you might not have seen in a long time. (I was there with him.) Get him to talk to his “clique” (fellow benes from Y-stars, a YMCA dance group for down syndrome people) consisting Bjorn and Terry (not real names), and he’ll be very much involved. He admires Bjorn, in particular, although the latter is almost unresponsive to the brotherly love that Bo showers upon him.
I should state that we should reflect the ways to serve the disadvantaged. I did, but that wasn’t what struck me most. What puzzled me at the beginning of the camp is what they attach to a relationship. Their desires of their relationships and life are so transparent and unmistakably innocent it strikes anyone as almost simplistic. It could well be, but my relationship with Bo was genuine. I don’t think I’ll forget him for a long time, and on the last day he seemed to show that the sentiment was mutual. Another bene’s mother would help bring him home. Hugging me for the fifth time, he stared deep into my eyes.
“I’ll see you next Saturday at Y-stars outing. Okay?”
As he stepped into the cab, he asked that again. I nodded, knowing full well I might not see him again.
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