I have never been to a Russian summer camp. I was the spoiled brat with a rented dacha, but I would see the camp kids — there was a Young Pioneer Camp at the edge of the village where I spent my summers — and seethe with jealousy: of freedom from grandparental supervision, of bonding experiences, of organized artistic activities, and so forth. Also, having watched several great Soviet movies that glorify this experience, I longed for the adventure, tree houses and campfire stories that a summer at camp would surely bring.
My mom used to go to summer camp as a kid (in the 1960s) and kept telling me, “dearest, you don’t know what you’re missing because if you did, you would NEVER ask me to send you to camp. Camp kids would die to be at a dacha with their over-indulging grandma and grandpa!”
http://agirlandhertravels.com/2013/08/30/guest-post-one-time-russian-camp/ . It left me absolutely terrified, but also laughing so hard, I was crying. A must-read!