There are a lot of things in the Office of Admission: water bottles, “power pack” packages of blue and white M&Ms and giant boxes of pens. Working there as a summer Admissions worker, I stumbled upon a plastic tote box with brown fur sticking out of it.
It was better than buried treasure: the Camel costume.
The camel became the Connecticut College mascot in 1969, the same year the college went co-ed. Mike Shinault, who was then head of the print shop and newly-instated basketball coach, chose it after a Pakistani team he’d seen during his time in the Navy. Part of the magic of having such a whimsical mascot is, of course, wearing the costume. Part of the magic of having such a costume is the built-in sauna.
The camel costume comes in three parts: first, the hump of the camel, an optional accessory. The hump, or the “large, furry orange thing” as one former camel calls it, isn’t attached to the rest of the costume. It is largely unimportant.
The body of the suit weighs about fifteen pounds, and is basically a heavy duty Snuggie with pants. I suspect that it is highly flammable. The best part of the suit, however, is the “easy access” hole, which is used, assumedly, to make peeing easier.
The head of the camel, the icing on the cake, is a virtual death trap. The neck of the camel is uncomfortably slim, with the camel’s mouth made out of mesh and serving as the view to the outside word. It is also the only air source. The camel’s goofy smile and bright eyes are only improved by the tuft of orange hair atop his head, a Mohawk of sorts.
Needless to say, being in the camel suit is not as fun as it looks. Still, the payoff comes with the friendliness, the interaction with students, faculty, and staff members, and the complete anonymity that the suit garners — when else can you go up President Higdon and dance with him? — make up for the difficulties in the suit. Here are several, anonymous experiences, including a letter, detailed by those who have been in the suit…
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A junior camel…
Last fall, Spectrum held an event called “Pride Day,” a stand-in for our traditional Coming Out Day celebration. If you attended those festivities between the hours of 11 AM and 1 PM, you may have been accosted by Connecticut College’s friendly camel mascot. Well, it’s time for me to reveal my secret: I was that camel.
For reasons I myself cannot explain, dressing up as a school mascot had always been a goal of mine; therefore, when the opportunity presented itself, I enthusiastically volunteered to spend the first few hours of my Wednesday dressed as a large camel. I had no idea what I was in for.
I arrived at the LGBTQ Center that morning to find the costume waiting for me in a large chest. I got dressed with the help of my friend, who, among other things, helped me figure out that the large, furry orange thing was not, as I initially suspected, a hairpiece, but rather the camel’s hump.
However, even conquering that mystery did not solve all our problems: we saw no way to attach the hump to the back of the camel suit. Fortunately, this problem was quickly resolved; we had already decided that I would be wearing one of Spectrum’s t-shirts, and thus were able to shove the furry mass up the back of the shirt, which kept it (relatively) in place.
Thus costumed, I was led out of the LGBTQ Center and across the street to Cro. I had some difficulty seeing through the eyeholes, which were located at chin level, but even on that short walk I had my first experience of the magic of being the camel. People were excited to see me; they would wave to me, and seemed thrilled when I waved back. I felt like a celebrity by the time I walked into Cro, but unfortunately, that feeling was short-lived.
Even on a chilly November day, that costume is like an oven; I was sweltering long before people began to arrive at the Pride Day table. The time that followed was a sweaty, hazy blur. I remember approaching various people that I knew, poking them, high-fiving them and encouraging their attempts at the Pride Day quiz, while they looked around, bewildered, asking the people behind the table if I was someone they knew. I remember hanging around with President Higdon for a while, and, at some point, my friend put on Van Halen in an attempt to get me to dance around.
But mostly, I remember the heat. I remember making several trips into the bathroom to wipe the profuse sweat off my brow, I remember taking every opportunity possible to stand outside, and I really remember how relieved I felt as I was led back to the LGBTQ Center, where I could finally remove the costume and pass it on to the next sucker who had volunteered to spend the last two hours of Pride Day ensconced in that furry oven.
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Another junior camel…
I’ve always desperately wanted to be the camel. Way back to when I was a junior in high school, my mom and I were waiting in the admissions building for our tour to start. A camel wandered into the room and told us to follow him outside. I become ecstatic – a camel mascot was going to be leading my tour of Conn? This was the best school ever!
The honor of gracing the costume took place three-and-a-half years later, during Orientation 2009. I was cast as the camel in the Orientation skit, put on by the Student Advisors to enlighten the freshmen about Conn. I had to wear this smelly, sweaty, damp costume to every skit dress rehearsal. The costume was missing its paws and I had to wear wet winter gloves, which left a stench on my palms for hours afterwards.
Most importantly, I was too short to be the camel. It never occurred to me that you had to be a certain height to properly, or at least comfortably, become the camel. The camel’s crotch came down to my knees, making my camel appear to have unsightly, stubbly legs.
Despite these issues, there is an intoxicating freedom to being the camel. You can skip down the road, give strangers hugs and high-fives, and, my all-time favorite, dance like a complete fool. While on stage, my role of the camel involved me hanging out at a “floor party” and shaking my little tail to Sean Kingston (the following scene featuring the camel caused it to attend Choices with CC Curtis).
Everyone loves the camel: it never fails to put a smile on anyone’s face. Even on move-in day, when anxious parents and frightened freshmen were freaking out about the weather, the sight of the camel dancing out by the school’s entrance was enough to make that turn onto campus feel just right. For me, it made me look back at my introduction to my school, and it reminded me that for some, the camel is the first part of Conn that potential students are really exposed to.
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A senior camel…
It is an exhilarating and exhausting experience. Being inside is unbelievably hot and uncomfortable; it feels as if you are in a diving suit that is ten times too big for you. But the attention you get, like high fives, hugs and people taking photos of you, makes it so much fun. Everyone is so happy to see the camel!
Also there is something very freeing about wearing a silly camel costume; you can’t help but want to dance around and make a fool out of yourself since no one knows it’s you!
I don’t think I would do it a second time but I definitely think it’s something that any true CC student should experience…
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And, finally, a letter from an experienced Camel…
Dear beloved fellow Camels,
Reflecting on this year, it has been an honor and pleasure to represent you as your mascot. I look forward to years to come, especially in donning my snazzy new look! However, a few things have raised cause for concern and I would like to look to you to help maintain the Camel’s general well-being.
People really want to know who the Camel is and try to piece together clues, the first of which is the attempt to identify gender. I cannot tell you how many times the Camel has been groped to see whether or not there are “lovely lady lumps” (so fittingly referenced in the song “My Humps,” which really should be our unofficial Connecticut College Camels theme song). The Camel loves high-fives, hugs, dance partners, rousing games of duck-duck-goose, spitting contests, and more — but not inappropriate touching. So a small plea of wisdom: PLEASE DON’T GROPE THE CAMEL.
In addition, the Camel does not wish to be disrobed. Don’t get me wrong, the Camel likes to have a good time, but he stays responsible and tries to keep himself decently covered at all times. Often people try to remove the Camel’s clothing and head without consent; this is not cool! Believe me, no one wants to look back at a crazy spring break picture of “Camels Gone Wild.” So also: PLEASE DON’T DISROBE THE CAMEL OR TRY TO TAKE OFF HIS HEAD.
The Camel is so excited about the great events and people at Conn! He definitely gets pumped up; however, having a water-retaining hump sometimes throws off his center of gravity. It is no fun to be tackled from behind, have his tail yanked, be aggressively chest-bumped or otherwise injured. The Camel needs to be treated gently; sometimes he just needs some love and tenderness. PLEASE DON’T PLAY TOO ROUGH WITH THE CAMEL.
Thank you for your support and let’s go Camels!
Love,
The Camel
