AT the National Youth Service Emergency Corps Orientation Camp in Chestervale, sited in the green hills of St Andrew, the rules are many, some are difficult, and all strictly enforced. There is no cable television, no cellphones, no physical contact with members of the opposite sex, and no walking.

Trainees are only allowed to ‘bubble’, a quick-step slightly faster than a trot.

All 280 young men and women, ranging in age from 17 to 24, sleep in 10 dorm barracks with double-stacked bunk beds.

All beds must look the same: sheet tucked in tightly, pillow at the top, toothpaste, toothbrush, soapdish and hairbrush laid side by side, 10 inches below the pillow.

The trainees rise at 4:30 am and every day starts with physical exercise.

At the end of the day, lights go out precisely at 10:00 pm.

Almost every minute of the day is tightly regulated, and order among the participants is maintained by a five-man contingent from the Jamaica Defence Force (JDF).

All the elements seem to spell ‘boot camp’, which was the nature of the complaint to the Sunday Observer by independent observers who thought the treatment of the Chestervale campers was severe – a position not entirely shared by campers and camp supervisors.

“The kids were dropping down like flies!” said a member of a monitoring team that visited the camp during the second week of the four-week programme.

The campers confirmed the rigorous treatment, relating stories to the Sunday Observer of being shouted at, having whole groups punished if one member was late, how some were kept up into the wee hours of the morning doing exercise as punishment, and more.

“Oh my goodness, the first week was hell!” said Wentworth Simpson, 18, from Swaby’s Crescent in Mandeville, at the end of his third week.

“I just wanted to go home, every day. You have to be on time, you have to participate, and although now I’m used to it, it was hard at first to wake up and exercise so early every day.”

The camp observer, who spoke on condition of anonymity, described scenes of entire groups of volunteers nodding off to sleep in the middle of sessions, of participants getting panic and asthma attacks, and even one instance where a camper had to be evacuated by helicopter for medical reasons.

“In my estimation, most of the ailments were stress-driven. You’re taking these young generation out of their environments into one that is so rigorously structured. It’s a drastic change for your system,” he said.

“It’s supposed to be a camp about emergency management, not a military camp, not a cadet camp; and the NYS needs to realise that.”

The Chestervale camp is part of a NYS programme to develop a 300-strong corps of emergency and environmental aides, funded by a near $30 million grant from the Environmental Foundation of Jamaica.

After the four-week camp, which ended Saturday, April 22, the trainees are given job placements within environmental and emergency and disaster management organisations for 6-8 months, such as the Office of Disaster Preparedness and Emergency Management, the Jamaica Red Cross, the Jamaica Fire Brigade, the National Solid Waste Management Authority or the National Forestry Service.

They are to be paid $2,000 per week.

The camp grounds, located on a sprawling hillside property called Eco Holiday Village rented by NYS, are set high in the Blue Mountains.

The drive there takes two hours from Papine in St Andrew.

On a chilly Friday morning, April 14, participants milled about the camp, on the playing fields and near the dorm barracks, sporting their standard issue dress of white, short-sleeved NYS T-shirts, emblazoned with the slogan ‘Youth In Service’ on the back.

They all wore black pants or skirts, and all had their hair neatly combed and shirts tucked in at the waist.

A handful of green-fatigued soldiers milled about, and once, on the concrete pavement near the main office, a volunteer was observed doing push-ups in front of a member of the camp staff.

It’s a highly disciplined environment, but certainly not a boot camp, says Howard Smith, an on-site NYS advisor who has run similar camps for the NYS in the past.

“But I can understand why people would say so,” he said, acknowledging the role of the JDF soldiers, who are there officially to help maintain order and discipline.

“What we are doing,” said Smith, “is taking a group of youths, whose lifestyle may not be as (structured) … so their daily routine would probably be getting up at any time of day they want, not having a particular direction.”

NYS believes that the programme keeps participants focussed.

The four weeks are structured around the delivery of two curricula:

. NYS ‘core’ curriculum, which involves courses in areas as behavioural management, social studies, leadership, personal development, office procedures, communication and report-writing and information technology; and

. courses specialised to the theme of the camp, involving first aid, disaster assessment, hazard mapping, land search and rescue, drought and bush fire management, shelter management, biodiversity, emergency management, radio training, and fire safety.

But it’s the delivery of core courses that concern camp observers.

“A lot of the kids simply could not manage, and I don’t see how being sleep-deprived can teach you about personal development,” said another observer, referring to stories related by campers.

But, while campers whom the Sunday Observer interviewed confirmed the allegations, none were quick to condemn them.

“The minute Sergeant Cole came on the bus and shouted ‘I’m going to be your worst nightmare!’, I got so scared, and I even started to cry,” said Tristan Beckford from Old Harbour in St Catherine.

Beckford recalls that for the first two weeks he resisted calling home, worried he would break out bawling to his mother.

“But this week I called her and it was okay,” he said, adding that he had got used to camp ‘runnings’.

Beckford, who was a member of his high school drama club, admitted to being “a person with a lot of attitude”, but he says that being at the camp has helped him address that.

“You really have to be on time, be polite, that sort of thing. And you learn fast that if you don’t, there are consequences. But they’re also a lot of really nice people here, and I even would say I like Sgt Cole now,” he added.

Yolana James, 18, from Hillside, St Thomas, had never been separated from her twin sister before Chestervale, so the camp was a major physical, cultural and emotional shock for her.

Three weeks into the programme, however, she’s gained self-confidence, self esteem and a sense of comfort. And she’s lost 20 pounds.

“I never thought I could do anything without Alana, and at first I missed her so much, I can’t even explain,” she said, her voice almost cracking. “But then you start to socialise with others, and you learn a lot of things. For instance, I’m a person that sleeps late in the day and stays up late eating, but here you have to wake up on time and eat at a certain time, so there’s no snacking.

Then there’s all the exercise, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t really hard. You have to ‘bubble’ everywhere – you can’t walk, but even that turns out to be good for you. I’ve lost weight, the climate is good for my complexion, and I’d say I’m a lot more disciplined now than before.”

That’s the overall point of the camps, says NYS programmes director Howard Gardiner.

“The NYS is basically about re-socialisation of the participant around some form of public benefit,” he explains.

In response to allegations that the camp was too rigorous for the volunteers, Howard Smith was unapologetic.

“Yes, people are ‘stretched’. We encourage them to make that extra step beyond what they are used to. And it will come with it – aches and pains. But that is part and parcel of encouraging endurance on that kind of trip,” he said.

In any case, one has to take the good with the bad, says camper Cresento Huntley, 21, of Woodhall in Clarendon, philosophically, especially since applicants were warned about what they were getting themselves into.

“I have mixed emotions.

The climate I’m not used to, the training is hectic and it’s hard work,” said Huntley, a former student of Ebony Park Institute, who before coming to the camp was doing nothing much with her time.

“But they tell you the rules from in the interview, and they even asked if anyone had forced us to sign up. ‘If someone force you to do it, don’t do it,’ they said, so I was kinda expecting this,” she said.

“I won’t lie, though; it’s hard, but it’s one of the best experiences ever.”

campbello@jamaicaobserver.com