The entry of the Dance Camp

Unlike the previous camps I had back in my polytechnic days or even one of those random camps I took part in when I was 12, the faculty camp I partook in recently was a ghastly eye-opener experience that surely was successful in executing memorable.

I was brought up in believing camps are to be a dirty, muddy experience where they bring out the toughness and edge out of you. Hence, I was horribly shock when we had to conduct mass dance practices for merely 2 hours long. It seems to me that it was the highlight of the whole camp. I gathered my courage to torture my mind and body in tiring flashy intricate choreographed moves.

I believe I am every bit a good dancer. As long as I can bounce, sway my hips and nod to the beats, I must be pretty damn good. But the mass dance, told me to check myself back to reality. I am worst than Isla Fisher in Shopaholic. The mass dance bruised me badly - My self-esteem, my ego (if there's any of it left). I was frustrated I couldn't get in sync with the rest. After much effort and perspiration, I was Mr Bean, prouncing around and all tangled up helplessly, hiding at the back of the lot.

The camp did push me to my limits. But I still can't dance to their routines - Hip-Hop, Cha Cha and whatever nots? Did it toughen me up? It did toughen my ego for a man to be sashaying my hips in front of pumped atheletic joggers at the stadium. Did it push me? Definitely, my perserverance to prove myself Danceable!

But for future sake, don't ever punk'd us campers by shockingly throwing us into dancing boot camp when initially the publicity was all about war games! It may be part of the surprise program agenda, but don't dampened the hopes of us who believed that we were BORN to dance. Thank goodness I happened to stay only 2 nights of dancing classes due to emergency!