My sons were born in South Korea. They flew to the United States at 7 and 13 months, and we always hoped they would be able to return one day to visit their homeland. When we found out the World Scout Jamboree would be held in South Korea in 2023, and that the boys would be the perfect ages (the event is for scouts 14-17; P is 17 and J is 14), they were thrilled. We spent two years saving and planning, and the last several months attending biweekly meetings and an in-person campout in Albany. Resident foodie J couldn’t wait to sample Korean street food, and we celebrated his twelfth KTA day (Korea-to-America – the day he arrived in the US) on July 7 with Korean BBQ. Eagle scout P had just spent three weeks in Europe with American Music Abroad and was still a bit jet-lagged but excited for his next adventure. The boys looked forward to meeting new people, trading patches, and experiencing other cultures. It would be a once in a lifetime trip.

Last Thursday, we drove to NYC and dropped the boys off at JFK airport. I hugged them goodbye, then began to tear up. My stomach was in knots, but I passed it off as being nervous for them to travel so far away. If I had trusted my gut, I would have grabbed them up and spent the weekend touring NYC’s Korea town instead. But we had sunk over 12 thousand dollars into their adventure, so I walked away.

The boys made it safely to Korea, but P quickly realized he had forgotten his international credit card, and neither boy had enough cash to purchase street food or souvenirs on their preliminary tour. Oh, if only that had been the worst of their troubles. They were due to arrive at the Jamboree site on August 1, but it was delayed due to a lack of set up. The boys spent the night in a nearby Army base, on lockdown with no wifi, eating cold MREs. Around a thousand scouts and leaders slept on cots in a crowded gymnasium like refugees or hurricane survivors. The following day they arrived on site to still no tents and were forced to sleep on cardboard boxes on the hard ground. P said he slept sitting at a table.

That morning (Korea is 13 hours ahead of us), I received word from P that his brother was suffering from heat exhaustion and had gone to medical. The medical liaison assured me he was fine, that he wasn’t drinking enough water and they were handling it. The temperature in Korea was in the 90s with oppressive humidity. I began to worry, but tried to stay positive. Their scout leader called around 7 pm with news that J was not improving, and running a fever of 103. They were going to test him for Covid. We received no further information that night, until P finally texted to say the test came back positive and J would need to be quarantined for five days.

I had no idea where he was going. No idea the sort of medical treatment he would receive. No idea how he was doing.

Around 1pm on August 4 (2am Korean time), the US contingent announced they would be pulling out of the jamboree. Hours earlier, the UK contingent pulled out and was sending its scouts to hotels in Seoul. Our scouts would be returning to the Army base. P had been texting me about how bad things had gotten. They finally had all of their tents and supplies, but the bathrooms were filthy and overflowing, the showers ice cold and lacking privacy. The heat was horrendous and he could hear ambulances going off constantly. Someone said the medics ran out of IV fluid. Thousands of kids had fallen ill.

The next morning there was an emergency parent meeting. US scouts would have a final day at the Jamboree and then travel back to the Army base. Scouts and parents were a mix of furious and relieved, but all were disappointed in how things had panned out. The Korean government spent millions of dollars to try and fix the problem, insisting the Jamboree continue as planned despite the deplorable conditions. But the UK, US, and Singapore contingents have left. Conditions have improved, but the unbearable heat continues. And now a typhoon is headed straight for Korea.

P has arrived safely at the base (I can only assume as there is no wifi and I have not heard from him since yesterday, when he begged to fly home – an option that would require the boys to either travel alone or us to foot the bill for both them and two adults), and J remains in quarantine somewhere near the jamboree. We have not heard from him in two days. The last time we spoke he sounded extremely depressed, despite his leader telling us last night that he was in “good spirits”. He has missed the entire jamboree. No patch trading, no mingling with other cultures, nothing. And now he will miss the first day of activities at the base as he is required to finish out his final day of quarantine.

Everyone in the troop is some level of sick, P told me early on. Some were tested, some were not. Two boys were positive and have been kept in isolation. I get that they needed to be safe and cautious, but my child has been completely alone in a foreign country for five days. He is depressed. He is lonely. He is scared. I have gotten zero communication from any medical staff regarding his health or well-being. I am stuck on the other side of the world, completely helpless, knowing that I sent my children into this hell.

Instead of a once in a lifetime experience, I gave them a nightmare.