A University College Student Association Magazine
BUBBLE
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Pondering with Jane by Jane Cole
How do I survive ‘beginning of semester stresses’ at UCU? Culture shock: it’s something we have likely all experienced. Yes you, don’t pretend you haven’t! Whether you are new at UCU or a returning student, UCU culture is something to adjust to. And yes, it is a culture. Since when do we remember each other, not by name, but by place? “I am from South Texas, but I have lived in Utrecht for the past five years.” That’s my well-recited line, and I’m sure you have one too, even if it is “I’m Dutch, fully Dutch, really please do not ask me again— I am Dutch, just Dutch, and nothing else.” It’s not that I mind telling people I am American, but I’m not sure how I feel about that being what people remember me by. Did you not want to ask about my hobbies or anything else first? Do we all just boil down to countries, cities, and states? This is kind of more second date material, don’t you think? And I have been pondering, am I allowed to use these hammocks? Courses, classroom culture, also a bit of a change. Maybe you got two math courses, no sciences, three colliding timeslots, and now your law course is online. When am I
going to have my tutor meeting? Because I need to complain to an adult. A fellow adult by the way, because there have been five speeches reminding you of that fact (like we needed to be reminded of this painful matter). You go to class, and after reading the 140 pages that were assigned (like the adult you are), your professor asks you to introduce yourself and please mention your pronouns, and you ponder: how have I managed to say something different each pronoun round? Am I having an identity crisis? What if my pronouns are different from what people expected? Everybody just admitted to being cis and now someone must announce they are the odd one out. Did my professor just say to call them by their first name? Who placed these two chairs in the middle of this U? Also, whose hammocks are those? The shock extends past the social interactions. You are a shock to yourself too. You come back to your unit to find a dirty hamper filled with a t-shirt, two pairs of socks, three tank tops, and 14 pairs of underwear. Is this a normal ratio of clothes? At what ‘toerental’ should I set the washer? Why do we have two microwaves and no ovens? We also have one fridge for ten people, two toasters,
three couches, but the table is gone. Who took the dining room table? Why are my clothes still wet? Maybe wrong ‘toerental’? Speaking of laundry, shouldn’t we wash the kitchen towels? And what about the bathroom towels? Who bought this toilet paper? How much money can I justify spending at Chris’? And we are all still wondering where the hammocks came from. Though in the end it is all worth it , this culture shock, and I cannot help but ponder, during these beginning of semester stresses: What made me deserve such sweet unit mates? — unit mates that bring me freshly baked cake or hand me a flower through my open window (true stories). And how lucky are we to have professors that care about pronouns, or a campus with such variety in cultures that our backgrounds stand out? And as we continue to ponder what it means to be an adult; we can be happy with washers with ‘toerentals’ that go up to 1600 (because you are going to want to set your washer as high as it can go), microwave ovens, and magically self-refilling toilet paper. And maybe one day the hammock sharer will reveal themselves, and we won’t have to ponder about that anymore.
Your Solo Trip to Paris by Giulia Martinez Brenner Part One
So you already hate everyone and this is even before the snores start. But whatevSo you decided to be original and go to Paris er, you settle into your seat and in front of for fall break. You also decided to go alone. you is a sticker that says, “take care of your Find yourself, spice it up a little. Of course neighbor, wear your mask”. So now you’re you take a Flixbus, and already that is an an- even expected to keep that obnoxiously itchy thropological experience in itself. A Flixbus thing on, and for the good of the dick stealis a portal into the animal kingdom. There ing your armrest? But fine, it’s fine. You put are different packs, different motives, but your headphones in, you forget about it. You the one thing you have in common is that the knew this was the way it was going to be anmoment you enter that bus, you feel entitled yway, you didn’t have any high expectations. The real problem is when they entice you to act like an asshole. with the promise of free wifi which obviously Lady, I don’t care if your son is three years doesn’t work. The cruelty of hope. old and you want to sit next to him, I got Thankfully you manage to sleep, the half here first? sleep of travel, that you’re grateful for beAnd the person in front of you puts their seat cause it passes the time. Until you wake up all the way back because the person in front and only 15 minutes have passed, your hair of them did the same thing and what are you is disgusting and filled with static, and you going to do? Be the fool with less space? No, desperately need to pee. Now here comes the you say fuck the person behind you because real inner turmoil, the question of a lifetime. it’s every man for themself and what did they Brave the Flixbus toilet? Or genuinely wet expect from such a cheap ticket? Actual leg yourself? Honestly, it really is not an easy answer and you know it. room? Come on.
After long excruciating minutes of silent debate, you stand up, say a prayer, and go downstairs to the on board bathroom. You cling, pitifully, to whatever you can, while the jerky movements of the bus attempt to sabotage your balance in any way possible. You're on your tiptoes, your shirt is tucked under your chin, limbs are bent at paranormal angles to avoid all surfaces, and oh, now you realize that you still have your mask on as well which is why you’re sweating buckets and your glasses are fogged up so you can’t even see if you’re peeing in a straight line anymore. Finally you’re done. You go back upstairs and begin to breathe normally again, you might even feel a glimmer of pride. And just then the driver announces that we will be stopping shortly for a food and bathroom break. Of. Course.
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