Enjoying our Kyrgyz campfire

We asked the resort that is hosting our summer camp if it would be possible for them to set up a campfire on the beach as a special treat for our participants on their final night of camp.  At times the resort had been reluctant to address our various requests, so that's why it was a bit surprising when they agreed to our wishes so quickly and so enthusiastically.

When we arrived at the beach for our campfire this is what we discovered:

Our Kyrgyz campfire in its full glory

It turns out that the staff's interpretation of a campfire was to set ablaze a poor, scraggly pine tree.  Because we've had lots of rain, the tree didn't burn easily.  That's why one of the resort staff members, who I think moonlights as a part-time arsonist, would every minute or two, take his 20-liter jug filled with gasoline and splash some fuel on the dying flames.  While the resulting flare-ups seemed to excite the eight-year-old boys who had dashed from the neighboring condos to witness this thrilling event, it was less thrilling for those of us entrusted with the safety of our 70 camp participants.

Soon this spectacle attracted all the other resort guests who happened to be on the beach at the time.  I could hear their conversations in Russian and could imagine them to be something like this:

Kyrgyz Person 1: Why are they setting fire to this tree?

Kyrgyz Person 2: I think it is some strange ritual these North Americans are performing as part of their camp.

Kyrgyz Person 1: Do you think they will be roasting a goat?

Kyrgyz Person 2: I don’t know. But, thank God they are all leaving tomorrow.

As the resort staff fed the flames with newspaper, cardboard, and generous doses of additional gasoline, a shower of embers and burning debris drifted toward our group as we tried to keep a safe distance from the Kyrgyz campfire.  At that point we decided to take our group back to our residential building to continue our programing for the night. As we left, I looked over my shoulder and noticed that the resort staff was undaunted by our departure. Assisted by the army of eight-year-old boys, they were continuing to pour gas on the flames, perhaps to see if it might be possible to set the entire resort ablaze.

Fortunately, we made it back to our building and because I didn't hear any ambulance sirens during the evening, I am guessing none of the eight-year-olds caught fire. Best of all, some of our intrepid camp counselors ran ahead and quickly found a "virtual campfire" on the Internet that they could project on the screen we had set up in our largest conference room.  So, we happily ate snacks and sang songs around the virtual campfire, safe from the conflagration that was our Kyrgyz campfire.

Our Kyrgyz campfire: the morning after