Hello, Republic! I’m Nik, your local demolitions expert (not really). I hope life is glorious upon the hallowed grounds of our proud campus!
I know all of that sounds quite grandiose and pretentious, but it does pertain to the point I want to make about campus life.
I live off campus, about a 20 minute bus ride away. Initially, I was glad to not have to live on campus. Not because I thought that campus life would be terrible, but because home life is just so comfortable. I live with my grandmother, so I’m totally cared for and catered to, spoiled to the bone. Why would I want to complicate my life with laundry and cooking and washing the dishes and talking to people in the morning? I’m not a morning person. In fact, I’m not a person in the morning, I’m a walking explosive device waiting for someone to detonate me by asking a question, which is a really dumb way to die. So, at first, I considered myself lucky to be on the outside of all of that nonsense.
However, I’m slowly beginning to realize that I might be missing out on something. That its these little challenges of life that actually help bring people together. When visiting the resident’s halls, I picked up on the sense of comradery that permeates the place. While its naive to assume that everyone gets along perfectly with everyone else, all residents seem to understand that they’re all in the same boat. Its quite apt to call people here “the student body”, because it feels to me like a singular organism; a self-regulating ecosystem limited to a singular area and bound by a singular purpose. I got the sense that people here live by their own unwritten code.
Outside definitions of success and status completely lose relevance once the card-key is swiped at the entrance.
Money is not really the currency here. Because money is something students only hear about in stories they’re told about life after graduation. An elusive substance that is made by magical bank pixies and guarded by white-collar dragons. Students who claim to have seen cash are considered crazy.
There are certain other commodities that are highly valued aboard HMS Republic, such as food, coffee, cigarettes and quality lecture notes. The first three will allow you to cement friendships, the last one will let you divide and conquer.
Status here does not depend on the possession of material things (bar the aforementioned commodities). People walk around wearing bath robes, seeking caffeination the way zombies seek the living. No-one gives a f…fluffy duckling about what you own. You will be judged on the basis of how easy you are to live with and what you bring to the table. Flash the latest iPhone and no one will blink an eye. Make a decent omelette, and your name will be the stuff of legends.
All in all, I’ve come to the conclusion that I wouldn’t mind being part of this ecosystem. That it would somehow be more fun than the blissful comfort I enjoy at present, provided people keep a safe distance away from me until at least 8am. I might serve my next academic term among the crew of HMS Republic. Or perhaps I should get a car?
Stay safe, Republic! Talk to you Later.