Words of Innocence and Experience

On the third night, I finally forsook the intention to run away. I had made it through more than half way and it would be pointless for me to leave at this point of time. The awareness of the testing on the next day plagued me, but I supposed that no one would judge me according to my probable failure. To put it in a better way, I did not give a d*mn.

As mentioned, the “Angel and Master” game was still ongoing. I had received a small card with no particularly shocking statements, while many comrades had been deliberately tricked. However, on the fourth morning, two mild surprises struck me. In the first card, someone asked me introduce myself to everyone in English, and so I did. My last utterance was an outragerous lie: “The Harmonica Camp rocks!” Knowing my annoyance, Erica later joked that she believed that I had said “The Harmonica Camp sucks!”

If I keep recounting the occurrences this way, it is awfully boring. Since I adapted Sting’s lyrics at the beginning, I am going to post the complete lyrics.

Upon a secret journey
I met a coy man
His shyness was his trademark
I’m such a lonely fan
And as the world was turning
It rolled itself in pain
This does not seem to touch you
He pointed to the rain

You will see light in the darkness
You will make some sense of this
And when you’ve made your secret journey
You will find the crush you miss

And on the days that followed
I listened to his words
I strained to understand him
I chased his notes like birds

You will see light in the darkness
You will make some sense of this
And when you’ve made your secret journey
You will find the crush you miss

You will see light in the darkness
You will make some sense of this
You will see joy in this sadness
You will find this crush you miss
And when you’ve made your secret journey
You will be a holy fan
—Adapted from “Secret Journey” by the Police/Sting

However, the song is an overstatement. There was just somebody who made the camp slightly more tolerable.

My performance of the harmonica, as predicted, was pretty poor, yet I did not give it too much thought. That night, a departure party was held outdoors, and oddly, not many people seemed sorry to leave. Perhaps all of us had reach the age where excessive emotions were saved for more influencial occasions.

On the final day, the talented students performed their songs on stage along with a simple commencement ceremony. As I scanned the thin papered certificate in my hand, I was suddenly happy for its presence. For if it had not been there, the five-day tough experience would be likely to become a blank section in my brain. At least the thin paper can prove that I was once in the camp.

Will I join the harmonica club then? My answer would be negative since the harmonica does not intrigue me, and I have no wish to make efforts on something from which I would not benefit. However, something, someone makes my determination fluctuate. As the old maxim goes, time will wash away everything. I truly hope that my temporary insanity would be eliminated, and everything will be the same next semester, without the harmonica attacking my life.