Dartmouth
College
November
13, 2004:
Well, this is it: the end of my time at Dartmouth. I'm packing my stuff
and heading down the road to Yale.
When people ask me what I like about Dartmouth, I often have a hard time coming up with a concise response. I sometimes say that I love the location, the school color, or the academic environment. I think a better answer, however, is that I like the people.
Students welcomed me into their homes, classes, and parties. I have been admitted to closed events that the general public, and even most students, never see. I went to sporting events, ROTC exercises, Greek parties, and various gatherings of friends. Many people took time out of long days of partying and studying to speak with me. My book is about my adventures and the people that I meet along the way, and the students at Dartmouth have given me plenty of material to work with.
The stereotype of the school has less to do with the students and more to do with the environment. Dartmouth students are isolated in New Hampshire, they say, where electricity and indoor plumbing are rare treats. In fact, the school is technologically advanced. Wireless Internet access is available all over campus, and every dorm room has free long distance telephone service. The campus isn't all that isolated, either. Not only do many students take trips to Boston, Montreal, and New York, but more than half the student body studies abroad at some point.
But in the relative seclusion of Hanover, tight bonds are formed. Students come from around the world, drawn by the opportunity to participate in such a small and vibrant community, and they form close friendships and a love of their school. Sure, I met a few lumberjacks who foster the stereotype of Dartmouth as a back-woods school, but they are lumberjacks by choice and fortunate enough to land on a campus that can support their interests.
I will miss the people I met during this chapter of my travels—and there are some people that I will miss especially—but I look forward to visiting again.
November
6, 2004:
I live in the Experiment. I enjoy saying that. The name suits the environment,
and it makes sense considering that this academic year is more or less
a grand-scale experiment for me.
The Experiment sits on about 20 acres of land in Norwich, Vermont. It is an old barn that has been divided into rooms spread across three stories. It could be quaint or even beautiful.
But it isn't. The adjective that best describes it for me is dirty. Sports equipment covers dirty clothes that cover beer bottles that cover cigarette butts that cover a seldom-seen carpet. The sink in the kitchen has been known to fill with water and stagnate, the windows are abuzz with flies in the morning, and the bathroom...well, you get the point. In addition, the room in which I sleep is freezing cold. At night, I dress in a sweat suit complete with socks and a hood, I turn on a space heater, I crawl under several layers of blankets, I assume the fetal position, and I hope that I wake up the next day. Many Dartmouth students know the Experiment at least by reputation.
What the Experiment lacks in the way of coziness, it makes up for with its other occupants. I live with seven—at least, I think there are seven—Dartmouth juniors. Most of them have studied overseas, many of them play team sports, and several are members of fraternities. I live with one of Dartmouth's brightest political stars and one of its most revered athletes, both of whom are among the most humble people I have met. The inhabitants of the Experiment invited me into their home and their lives, and they have been extraordinarily welcoming and gracious.
I passed on several other offers that I received for places to live. I figured I'd struggle through my time at the Experiment. Now that I can see the end of my time at Dartmouth approaching, I can only hope to find situations half as valuable as my time in that house.
November
1, 2004:
Dartmouth has a different major event each season.
The Winter Carnival includes a giant ice sculpture on the green. The spring
brings Green Key Weekend and several days of celebration and events. The
summer has Tubestock—an all-day float down the Connecticut River.
And in the fall, it is the bonfire on Homecoming Weekend.
The tradition is that the freshmen class has to run around the fire one lap for their year. But there are three things that make this trickier than it sounds:
- The bonfire is huge and hot. It is not suitable for roasting marshmallows as much as it is for laying waste to a small village.
- Rugby players have a reputation for disrupting the event in minor ways. For example, the freshmen rugby players run against the stream of bodies.
- The freshmen class, or the class of 2008, has to make 108 turns. Apparently, the class of 2000 thought they were going to get away with something, and no class since has been willing to let the next class off easier than they had it.
In addition to the bonfire, I went to several other events. I attended many parties, including a dance party at a fraternity, a quarterly disco night at a co-ed fraternity, a costume party at a sorority (where the people were especially friendly and helpful), and a general night of celebration at the real fraternity that the movie, Animal House, is allegedly based on. I also went to the rugby game where Dartmouth whooped up on Northeastern 32-20.
October
28, 2004:
I want to write at least a bit about paranoia. It seems appropriate.
People keep shooting me dirty looks at parties here at Dartmouth. Some people approach me cockily and ask, "Are you a cop?" At one fraternity, the risk manager delivered a message from the fraternity president asking me to leave.
Dartmouth students are cautious of strangers. The college employs Safety and Security officers who patrol the grounds looking for alcohol violations. When they find a drunk student or an underage student who has been drinking, they pounce upon him or her with vigor. In addition, the town of Hanover has its own small police force, and the state of New Hampshire has an undercover officer who reportedly infiltrates parties. Many people have told me that the administration is anti-fraternity, and the students are on guard for attacks on the Greek system.
And, yes, I look like an undercover police officer or administrative mole. I'm in my thirties; I carry a notebook and pen; and I don't drink anything stronger than Diet Pepsi at parties. I very rarely wander into parties by myself, but now I think I'll stick even closer to my friends at parties.
Finally, I should mention that this weekend is Homecoming. One of the reasons why I decided to visit Dartmouth now is so I would be here for this weekend. I am looking forward to it.
October
21, 2004:
Anyone who knows
me well knows how I feel about Dartmouth. It is easily my favorite school
that I never attended.
My love for the school, however, made me a bit nervous about this project. I have high expectations, and I could easily be let down.
I haven't been on campus for 24 hours yet, but it seems unlikely that I will be disappointed.
I was invited to watch game seven of the Yankees v. Red Sox series in a freshmen dorm. The students watching the game were very friendly and helpful—even those crying in despair for the Yankees and those crying real tears of joy for the Sox made time to talk with me. I traveled to a few fraternity houses, where I met even more students ready to invite me to classes and events. Even The Dartmouth—the oldest college newspaper—stepped up immediately to write a story about the project.
Perhaps most importantly, I received an email from a group of juniors ('06ers) who live off campus. We met and talked, and they invited me to stay with them during my stay.
It seems that I will be in good hands at Dartmouth, and I am extremely grateful. I feel at home already!
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