Message to friends and family IM FINE, sorry for not being in touch yet but working out the largley arbitary, and needlessly complicated string of number to get through on a telephone is beyond me at the moment.

The camp is as sparsly populated as it is furnished (10 of us at the moment). but thats cool and everybody arrives manyana for a week of training.

Reading back last nights entry i realised i may have sounded a bit morose, nothing could be further from the truth, to re-iterate IM FINE.


George- is a Ukraiian employed to work in the kitchen, what little english he does know was learnt from “some american freinds”, who, i suspect, hate him. This could be why he starts every fucking sentance with a sharp “Hey” so all day *cue Borat accent* “HEY, where is lightswitch?” “HEY, what is good word for apple?” “HEY, the bridges here are the same as my country”.

I first met him at the orientation, looking lost and wearing a suit and tie in the bright american sunshine (i still havnt worked out why), he needed someone to help him get to the same camp and I obvously was a cruel and evil man in a past life too desrve being saddled with him. Cue two hours of me dragging a sweaty suited Ukrainain round a country i am not a 100% sure of myself, being constantly told “HEY, the tickets you buy, i think they not correct” or “HEY, what langague you speak with that man? you mumble”.

i wonder if anyone would miss him if he “dissapeared”.