Initiation Continues...

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There is a little bug boring into my leg, munching greedily. I am not sure if it is capable of turning around and leaving, or even if it will want to ever go. Last night we got hazed again from 10pm-12:30am. We stood out in the field in military rows; grass fleas savoured our sweet bare ankles. I won’t get into the details of the night’s transgressions, but when I get home I will fill in the blanks for those who want to know. All I will say now is that it is definitely embarassing, but apparently gut splittingly hilarious to the hall seniors. So like the good sports we Canadians are, we participated for another night in the ritual “grubbing”. Few of us were given our hall names that night, so many of us are still not allowed to walk on grass (unless instructed by a senior), or use the very convenient cement walkways that link all the residence buildings. Despite the gruelling night of grubbing, we were woken at 4 am this morning by pots and pans, and various Carnival noise makers, forced out of our beds, and into the lobby. The whole Milner Hall population came out to organize and put up posters around campus advertising their upcoming talent show (which they take VERY seriously!). We were warned before we went to bed that this would happen. We Canadians asked so politely if they could simply knock on our doors to wake us up. “No,” they chortled incredulously, “It must be pots and pans”. So, 4am rolls in thunderously, as pots and pans assault each other metallically. We crawl out of bed, unimpressed. As our group assembles and goes outside to meet the rest of the Milnerites, we are completely aghast at their total lack of haste in this majorly ill-timed task. They are shooting hoops on the b-ball court, taking slow drags off their cigarettes, showing off bmx bike riding skills, and generally not moving toward the mission at hand. At this point, we were so unenthused at the pace of Caribbean time, that we take charge, demanding to be given posters and tape, and accordingly stormed off into the hot, muggy, dark morning to complete the assignment. The other Milnerites are tisking and clucking at our hastiness and impatience. “You’re lucky we are not Swiss!” we chime back to them, as our hot footed it up the road. “What does that even mean?” asked one of our group members. “I don’t really know,” replied a Bethany, “but I think the Swiss are more anal about timeliness than we are.”