Evelyn Vega

Where did we leave off? Oh right, picture this. The lights are low, it’s dark, you’re dancing to that song you heard one too many times, and then what’s that you hear? Silence. The speakers cut out for the seventh time this semester, and you find yourself frantically looking around, trying to lock eyes with your class crush while simultaneously keeping tabs on your friends as some sweaty stranger elbows you into the wall. Before you can even process the situation, just as you’re thinking that the party is coming to an end at the late hour of 11 p.m., the sound returns. This time, however, it’s not the lyrics to “Where Them Girls At” that reaches your ears—nope, it’s the sound of the fire alarm! As the crowd of your fellow first years rushes up the stairs and out into the open, you see Randy making his way across the quad while the E-host is trying to sober up, and while you stand there, frozen in place, all you can think about—all you can hope for—is that Thorne has mozzarella sticks tonight.

Welcome to this week’s column, all about College Houses! They’re the kid-friendly sororities that hand out happy drinks instead of happy meals. From the interview process where you and your blockmates gush about how badly you want to keep the sense of first-year floor community alive to House Olympics where you first experience the athlete-NARP divide over a heated game of dodgeball to weekly house meetings where the largest debate ends up being whether to spend the house budget on a new rug or a $100 football, College Houses remain a place where escaping awkwardness becomes as impossible to imagine as a successful marriage pact.

As all College House residents know, the beginning of the year is officially marked by the House Olympics where the houses immediately establish a reputation amongst the overstimulated first years. After everyone decides to shun Mac for its dominant winning streak and give Howell a half-hearted pity clap, sophomores return to their houses (along with the pots and pans they clashed together on the walk to Farley) and settle back into their cliques. However, it’s not long before something unexpected, perhaps awkward, happens that forces you to bond. Whether it’s trying to act out Alex Gates during a game of charades in the middle of a house meeting, brainstorming the most questionable ideas for your randomly themed party or hearing the very distinct sounds that escape the paper-thin walls at 2 a.m., it is these small, seemingly insignificant moments that help establish a unique sense of community in the house.

To further carry out my investigation, I decided to take to the streets (as in Maine Street) and asked fellow College House residents and frequenters where they find and embrace all things awkward.

Question addressed to Baxter resident: “What is a moment you feared would initially be awkward but ended up working out?”

Answer: “The shower situation in Bax. At first, the thought of two showers facing each other with a shared drain sounded like a nightmare, but we ended up having so many ‘shower convos,’ and it actually turned out great. We even started posting haikus on bathroom stalls.”

Question addressed to Boody-Johnson resident: “When have you gotten the biggest ick at a party?”

Answer: “Watching a guy get rejected by one girl and then going up to another one, only to get rejected again. That was a double whammy.”

Question addressed to Reed resident: “What is the most awkward moment you’ve experienced in a College House basement?”

Answer: “I’d say either accidentally stepping on someone’s inhaler or getting thrown up on.”

Regardless of the specifics, the beauty of awkwardness in College Houses is that it doesn’t discriminate, no matter the time of day or the house you’re in. It’s a dynamic environment where the same couch you spent hours finishing your lab report on until 1 a.m. turns into a loveseat for two first years having deep conversations about how their two-week long relationship in high school emotionally scarred them. Or maybe it’s 7 a.m., and you’re in the basement rehearsing a piece for your intro dance class when security happens to walk right in and pauses to ask if you’re doing okay. Perhaps it’s the same lawn where the tour guide stops to proudly point to the compost bin, attesting to how environmentally conscious Bowdoin students are—completely oblivious to the beer cans scattered across the grass.

Not only is the College House environment dynamic, but so are the people. Everyone in the house is kind of like a different character. There are those who are devoted to their 9 p.m. bedtimes and those who take advantage of Thursday nights without Friday classes. There are those who fill the house with the sweet smell of freshly baked treats and those who let their dirty dishes pile up in the sink and remain silent in the group chat when the proctor pleads for people to clean up their mess. There’s the awkward “Good morning” to half-naked floormates in the bathroom, the awkward glances when you watch someone sneak someone up to their room and, of course, the awkward silence that ensues when the speakers cut out yet again.

At the end of the day (or night), I’d say living in a College House is a uniquely chaotic but undeniably exciting atmosphere. And hey, if Thorne does have mozzarella sticks, it’s all worth it in the end.