So I'm back in Conway now, where I had hoped it would be warmer. It isn't. Today it snowed. Thank goodness I can bask in the warmth of my Hendrix friendships. I've slowly but surely been reuniting with my old buddies – although I can't escape the feeling that this year's enormous freshman class has overtaken the campus I knew and loved. That's one of the worst parts about being back: I look around the cafeteria at lunchtime and don't recognize half the faces.
I say lunchtime because it's the busiest meal of the day. Off-campus folks (i.e., the students living in the New Houses or any of the various Hendrix-owned apartments, or living outside the Hendrix housing system completely) usually only buy the 5- or 10-meal plans, so a weekday lunch is really the only time the diners' mean age surpasses 20.
I'm one of those off-campusers now. (I have a 5 meal plan. I'm learning to cook. Thanks for asking.) After three glorious semesters in Couch Hall, I decided to stop trying to remain in the residence halls (a losing battle for sure). The '07 and '08 freshman classes have been so large that even sophomores seem welcomed to live off campus. Anecdotally, one of my neighbors in the Hendrix-owned Huntington Apartments is a freshman. Apparently there was just no room for him in the Res Halls?
Coming back to campus was easier after my study-abroad last year with Hendrix-in-London. All of my good friends had remained at Hendrix, so when I returned they introduced me to some freshmen, updated me on any pertinent gossip, and warmly welcomed me back to the Hendrix Bubble. This year, though, all but two or three of my good friends also spent the fall semester abroad. We're all kind of wandering shocked around the campus. "Are these new juice machines in the cafeteria? We have to pay for refills in the Burrow now? The lunch line really stretches all the way down that hall?!"
There are new buildings, too. The Student Life and Technology Center is all bricked-in and real-looking, and two buildings have risen from the dirt in the otherwise desolate Village lot – bringing an odd sense of reality to a project that's been in the works since before I was a Hendrix student.
Some things, though, are refreshingly consistent with my memories. The high-quality professors, for example. There were many fantastic things about my experience in Mexico, but I missed the uber-small Hendrix class sizes, the personal interest teachers take in students, and the ability to find professors in their offices for outside help. The low-key, comfortable party scene that thrives here (at least among my friends) is also a refreshing contrast to Mexican life which – at least in ultra-urban Monterrey – centers on going to clubs and downing lots of booze. (The fact that I can remember that should indicate to you that I wasn't a full participant.)
My five days in Conway have allowed me to establish a routine for my weekdays. Every day begins around 7:30 with a semi-frantic scramble to clothe and feed myself and walk the 2.5 minutes from my apartment to my job at the Communications Office. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I start my academic day with U.S. Foreign Policy, followed by a noontime lunch, followed by American Literature and the War on Terror. Later in the evening I have the P.E. course Muscles to Music, which is a torture device of its own.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I take Creative Writing: Non-Fiction and The Iraq War. The latter is taught by the infamous Dr. Berryman – a history professor who has been known to make students cry. A friend reported that Berryman once called a student's essay "vomit" and then – with the student still in his office, watching – sprayed a disinfectant cleaning solution on his desk where the essay had touched it. He hasn't called any of my work vomit (or snot or any other bodily fluid) yet, but I haven't turned anything in yet. I'll be sure to keep you posted. So far, though, he seems like a much funnier and cooler guy than I expected. My other two professors, Dr. Vernon (who teaches both of my English classes and also happens to be my adviser) and Dr. Whelan, come very well-recommended. I'm thinking it will be a great semester!
One other detail that has been resolved to my liking is a boy issue. I had my first Hendrix dating experience last semester, which was cut short (in a nutshell) by my impending study-abroad plans. He and I barely talked while I was in Mexico, so the first few days back on this very small campus I nervously waited for the inevitable run-in. It happened … Tuesday? In the Burrow. Low-key. Almost un-awkward enough to be pleasant – a rambling conversation about the past seven months of our lives. Especially about the Obama phenomenon. (I was always a Hilary fan, but we can move past that.)
It's an inconvenient truth about Hendrix that if you date someone terrible or hook up with someone you regret, you will see him around campus at least once a week for the rest of your (or his – whichever ends first) Hendrix career. (Not that you were terrible, Unnamed-For-Your-Privacy's-Sake Boy. I'm talking hypothetical here.) Fortunately, I think that's a fair trade for how supremely awesome Hendrix otherwise is. It's good to be back.