Sunday, August 10, 2008

Letters from the front: Day 1.

So I'm still not quite sure what to expect when I get to Pennsic - all I know is that I'm pretty sure it will be fun.  After a long day on the bus and so little sleep that I actually slept on my bus segments (and believe you me, that means I was TIRED), my brother is there waiting for me at the bus station in Pittsburgh when my bus arrives a little bit late.  After a quick check with the ticket desk to make sure it will be okay if I pick up my return bus a couple of stops closer to the place I will actually be spending the week, we pile into his truck and head back up to War.

 

Brother has Period music playing on his stereo as we make our way northward....to keep him in the right frame of mind when venturing into the Mundane world.  I will soon learn that Period vs. Mundane will become very important.

 

Still have no idea whatsoever what's going on.  Am okay with that.

 

We make a grocery run on our way back to camp.  Am informed that Brother and Girlfriend are well-stocked to feed me dinner for the duration of my stay.  Receive briefings on Breakfast and Lunch, and buy groceries accordingly.

 

We arrive at Pennsic, and the first order of business is checking in.  You do this at Troll - yes, that's what it's called, and I believe the general idea is that the Trolls are surly and efficient at getting you through the line (the Trolls are, in fact, volunteers, and do not look like Trolls at all).  Am asked if I have been to War before, and my answer is no.  Am issued a medallion, and receive standard warning about how I must not lose my medallion, and how everyone says they will not lose their medallion, and every year SOMEONE does.  If I DO lose my medallion, my only recourse is to bring my receipt back to Troll and hope someone has found and turned in my lost medallion.  Mental note: do NOT LOSE MEDALLION.  DEFINITELY DO NOT LOSE RECEIPT.  Am now slightly afraid of my own absentminded tendencies.  Am sent on my way with the friendly greeting of, "Have a nice War!"

 

Brother drives me to Camp.  We are members of the Blood Moon Clan.  I quickly change into Garb.  Garb is an important part of Pennsic.  Girlfriend has been harvesting hand-me-downs from her stash of Garb for months now, as well as sewing new Garb for me.  All of this is stored in a box in my tent, next to the cot which is going to be WAY more comfortable to sleep on than the ground.  To be clear, a dome tent complete with rug and cot is rather primitive by Pennsic standards.  Most people live in palatial rooms that happen to be made of canvas, complete with beds, shelving, and walk-in closets.  One family in our camp had a tent large enough that a minivan could be parked inside and still leave room for a smaller dome tent for the kids and a canopy bed for the adults.  I shit you not.  When they told the little one to "go to his room," he ACTUALLY HAD SOMEWHERE TO GO.

 

Going through my box of Garb is fun - have you ever bought a crapload of new clothes, and had a hard time deciding what to wear?  I decide on something simple - whatever I put on will only be worn for a couple of hours before bed anyway, so there's no point in wasting the good stuff.  Brother takes me around camp and makes a few introductions to those who are present.  The sizing-up process is odd.  I soon realize it only feels that way because the residents are aware of the fact that it takes most people a while to adjust to Pennsic, and are letting me have some space while I do so.  I get a lot of "how weird is it?" comments.  It actually doesn't feel weird to me at all.  What I think most of these people don't get is that a) I am apparently a highly adaptable person (I was once told by a doctor that I "wasn't reacting enough" to some not-great test results because I refused to freak out) and 2) I've done a lot of theater.  Seeing people walking around in odd clothing really doesn't faze me in the slightest - it just feels like Tech Week to me.

 

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful.  I eventually go to bed well-fed, a little tipsy, and still feeling...quiet. 

 

That's how I am when I'm the outsider.

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