Dartmouth has a very open Greek party scene, but this weekend not a single house will open its doors to freshmen, or anyone not interested in joining for that matter.
This is the weekend which Greek-aspiring upperclassmen (the college doesn't allow students to join before completing three terms on campus) have anticipated and dreaded. For the gents, it is a more relaxed process: they go to the houses that they like for as long as they like. For the ladies it's more regimented: they visit each house at least once for no less than 45 minutes in a tightly organized, tiered system.
H'orderves will be swallowed, yawns will be swallowed, egos will be swallowed, etc.
Once the dust settles some people will run crazy through Novack Cafe clutching their newly acquired bids while their less-blessed friends shy off to mope in solitude. It's a brutal process, for sure.
As for me, I choose to watch sorority rush from the sidelines. Earlier this week I attended Phi Tau's first night of rush and signed the book with my bestie Rebecca Drapkin. Later, as we sat in Novack, a horde of Taus decked in flair and bearing standards of the house (a Jolly Roger and a rainbow among them) stormed in, belting "Happy birthday to you..!" and attempting to light candles atop two homemade cupcakes.
"We like you, we like you! We really REALLY like you!" they chanted as they decked each of us with a bid-bedazzled fedora. Then, just as quickly as they'd come, they were gone.
Most remarkable about this display, though is that it wasn't particularly remarkable. Not one of the students studying in the cafe batted an eye. This is Dartmouth, after all.
So you think you can SART?
6 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment