Date: Sun, 28 Mar 2010 17:38:16 +0200
From: Luca Warberg <lucawarberg@gmail.com>
Subject: College Memoirs 3

Standard disclaimers apply. All rights reserved by the author.

Hey guys, I will admit I was a bit dishonest in my introduction of my first
story in saying that everything I'm writing is 100% true. OK, while
everything I say that happened, is 100% true, I have to just say I have
changed the names of people (to protect their identity and mine) and also of
the hostels because I don't want to bring any embarrassment to people that
were first year with me. So yeah, sorry if that bothers some people, but I
owe it to alot of people (including my hostel) to not expose them and what
they do.

I had been back in South Africa for 3 days. Days spent frantically buying
and sorting out all the things I would need for university. Fridge,
microwave, laptop, duvet, sheets, crockery, cutlery: it was like starting a
life from scratch again.

The day before I was due to drive up to university, I went to the beach with
one of my best friends from school. She was a really hot blond girl,
typically South African in that she had that glowing bronze tan most of us
have after a summer holiday. I told her I was nervous about going to
university. She was going to the same one, us two the only two in my whole
school who would be going to this particular university.

I suppose it would help for me to explain the whole concept of university in
South Africa. For those who can afford it, it is normal to go to university
in a different town, usually a different province of the country. Further,
the life at university is a bit different from what I think American
universities are like. Instead of Fraternities and Sorrorities, our
universities have Hostels or a couple of Residences. Now for all intents and
purposes, the res works exactly the same as a frat. They're the best way to
make friends during your first couple of years at university. They have
initiation which you have to go through to be `accepted' as a member of the
hostel. We have mixers with girls hostels and our own, fully licenses bar
that was on hostel grounds. Some of the only differences between hostel and
a frat (I think: I don't really know how the Greek system works in America)
is that our hostels tend to be a hell of a lot bigger than frats (my hostel
had more than 350 guys in it) and also, you have to apply to be accepted to
the hostel before you even get to university. It has to be done round about
the same time you apply for university, but it is a separate process to the
academic application. The House Committee (which runs the house) then
basically chooses which applicants they want, and which ones they don't want
based on: academics at school, your involvement in sport, culture,
leadership positions, etc and how good you are at doing things like sport
and academics. So I think there are over two or three thousand people who
apply to get accepted at any one hostel, and only about a hundred of them
get accepted each year. So it's pretty tough competition and you have to
make damn sure that you're good at something, preferably sport AND
academics, otherwise you won't get in (unless you're a legacy).

So I had been accepted at the end of last year to one of the bigger hostels
on campus. There were about 350 people in my hostel and a hundred and thirty
first years had been accepted into the hostel with me (that's one of the
biggest groups to come in, its usually more around 80 first years). I was a
bit nervous about going to hostel because I didn't know a single person in
the town I was going to for university (except the girl I was sitting on the
beach with -- and I wouldn't see her until initiation/hazing was done).

But anyway, not that everyone knows sort of how the South African university
system works, let me get back to the story on the beach. Luckily for me, the
friends I was sitting on the beach with, Latja, was going to my `sister
hostel' and we would be seeing alot of each other once hazing was done. The
only problem is, hazing could last anything between 3 weeks and 12 weeks
depending on the seniors running it any given year. So anyway, we were both
pretty nervous, not quite knowing what to expect. We had been in a really
protected private school, where you were more likely to be sued than hazed.
So we were pretty inexperienced with the whole public education thing and
really didn't know what to expect.

After a few hours of sitting on the beach and just watching the waves
(something we both loved doing because we are both lifeguards), we
eventually said goodbye to each other, promising to get into contact at the
first possible moment we arrived at university. I walked home, determined
not to show my parents how scared I actually was.

The day my parents dropped me off at hostel I was a nervous wreck. The whole
House Committee (I'm going to just call them the HC) were standing in a
circle at the entrance of the hostel, waiting for first years to come in.
There were 18 of them, all dressed in identical suits, hands clasped behind
their backs, not talking, not smiling, just staring at the air infront of
them. My dad drove into the parking lot and one of the HC members approached
our car. He introduced himself to my father, shook hands with him, then did
the same with my mom.  He completely ignored me. He was about 1.9 metres
(sorry to the Americans, you guys should honestly catch up with the rest of
the world and start using the metric system), so he was about a good ten
centimetres taller than me. He had pitch black hair and was also quite
heavily tanned. I looked at him thinking he was a pretty good looking bloke.


Asking my dad (whom he referred to as `sir') to follow him, he picked up two
of my bags and started walking to the entrance. My eyes nearly popped. I had
packed those bags myself and they were full of textbooks and other random,
really heavy thins. I struggled to carry one of them (and I'm by no means
the weakest person out there) and he was carrying two of them like it wasn't
even an effort. I started following him, then thought better of it and
waited for my parents to catch up with me. I really didn't want to be in a
room alone with this guy. He walked us to my room, which thankfully was on
the first floor (ground floor). He dumped my bags in the middle of the room,
and once again addressed my father, welcoming him to the house and ensuring
him that they would take good care of me. He still hadn't even looked at me
at that stage. He marched out the room without glancing back. As soon as he
left, I broke out in a nervous smile. My dad started chuckling, and then
started teasing me, taunting me with things he said they were going to make
us do. Just in case everyone thinks my dad is a bit of an insensitive guy,
let me just put this in perspective for you. All white males over the age of
18 had to serve two years in the military before apartheid ended in our
country. So my dad had spent two years in the army and was pretty much used
to the idea of hazing, crappy living conditions and even shittier food. That
whole military outlook on life had pretty much stayed with a lot of men my
dad's age, so pretty much the majority of white South African boys grew up
with a pretty militaristic father. Before everyone feels sorry for us
though, I have to say that mothers in South Africa more than make up for it.
My mom, however, is European (Dutch) and she really wasn't looking very
happy.

My roommate hadn't arrived yet and I began unpacking my things, my mom
helping me to make the bed and to pack my cupboard so that there would be
some semblance of order to the way my clothes were arranged. I took the bed
and cupboard furthest from the door. I figured it would have a bit more
privacy. My dad, meanwhile, was sitting on the bed and he was just laughing
at me, taunting me with all the things the HC was going to do to us. Finally
everything was unpacked and my parents decided to head out. I walked them to
the car, and had to walk past the HC to do it. I kissed my parents goodbye,
gave them hugs, promised I would call them, etc, and then started heading
back to the hostel entrance. Just as I was passing the circle of HC standing
by the entrance, I heard my dad calling me with a really evil smile on his
face. I looked into his hand, horrified by what I saw. I was even more
horrified, however, by what he did. Looking at me, my father threw a packet
of toilet paper at me. "Hey Luca, don't forget your bog roll." I think I
must have gone red with embarrassment. My dad knew I didn't need the toilet
paper. He was just doing it to tease me. That's just the type of
relationship me and my father have. We tease each other a lot. I quickly
glanced at the HC standing infront of me. They were still staring straight
ahead of themselves, but I noticed a few of them smirking. I knew I was
going to get shit for what my dad had just done. Too embarrassed to do
anything else, I quickly went inside and walked towards my room.

As I approached my room, I noticed a bunch of other guys hovering in the
passage looking pretty nervous. I knew they were first years, because apart
from the HC, seniors at our hostel weren't allowed back in for another week
yet. So anyone not wearing a suit was a first year. I greeted the guys
hanging around my room and asked where they were from, what they were
studying, etc.

It was at this stage I noticed one of the guys standing in the group. His
name was Jarryd and he was really, extremely good looking. He had dirty
blond hair, which was sort of messy (but not that long). He had really
intense green eyes and a set of perfect pearly white teeth. He also had a
really, really deep tan (ok, I know, I'm a sucker for the whole surfer
look). He was wearing a tight fitting white top, which not only showed his
tan off really well, but I could see he was clearly defined underneath all
that. I found that I couldn't stop staring at him. I mean, I wasn't
attracted to him physically (yet anyway) but he was just so damn good
looking. We sat around my room and chatted for quite a while. Some of them
had had brothers in the hostel, so they knew a little of what to expect. I
decided not to listen to what they had to say and just take things as they
came.

We must have been chatting for quite a while when we were suddenly stormed
by a group of HC. Looking back, I suppose we must have lost track of the
time because we were told that we had exactly five minutes to shower and get
dressed in suits. We had a mixer with a girl's hostel. It was around 5pm by
then and we were told that if we were late, we'd suffer the consequences.

Well, at this stage, I hadn't checked out the bathroom situation yet. Now,
with no time to, I had no choice. I quickly went into my room, stripped,
swung a towel around my hips and grabbed some shower gel. I walked into the
shower room and my mouth fell open. There was one section of the room with a
few shower heads popping out the wall. No dividers, no privacy. There were a
few basins also to my right and to my left, there were toilets (at least
these were in cubicles). Having not been in a school with such an `open'
shower arrangement, I was a bit nervous. I looked around for an open shower,
but saw them all taken. So I waited for someone to finish up. (this was the
last time I waited, because all of us were late and we all got into deep
shit. Eventually, let's just say that modesty became really unimportant for
a few weeks of our lives). It was while I was waiting that I noticed Jarryd
showering under the second shower on my right hand side. He was standing
with his back to me and was rinsing the soap from his face and chest. I
noticed he had a really muscular back and a speedo tan, like me. His ass was
really tight and every time he moved his hands across his hair or chest, I
could see the muscles rippling across his back.

I tore my eyes away from him as I noticed one of the guys finishing up. I
quickly jumped into the shower, but was in such a rush, I can't even
remember who was showering next to me or what they looked like. By this
stage I must only have had about 2 minutes left, so I quickly shut off the
water, and walked quickly to my room, which thankfully wasn't too far away
from the bathroom. I changed into my suite, swearing and cursing as I
couldn't find a tie and black socks. Eventually I found them, dragged some
wax through my hair, towel dried it quickly, and then just tried to style it
as quickly as i could. By this time I could hear HC walking through the
passages, banging on the doors, swearing and yelling at everyone that they
were late. I quickly left my room before they got to it, and went to go line
up with the other first years outside the building.

During the time between having my parents leaving and being told to get
dressed, I had completely forgotten my nervousness. Then I had been in such
a rush to get dressed that I didn't have time to think about it. Now,
however, as I was waiting for some of the other first years to finish up and
come outside, it hit me again. I started feeling a bit sick, not knowing
what to expect for the night. It wasn't a minute later that everyone was
lined up outside, all in suits, all looking pretty sharp, I had to admit to
myself. Despite this, however, they kept sending people in, row by row,
barking at them that they looked untidy, that their tie didn't match their
shirts, that they couldn't wear white socks with black pants, etc. The list
of things they picked on was endless, and even sometimes slightly
ridiculous. I must have gone back to my passage about four times, all
because of other people not being dressed right (they told us we had to move
as a section. A section is basically a group of five rooms all next to each
other in the passage. So there were ten first years in my section).
Eventually, after  half an hour of having to run back and forth, having to
give spare black socks to people in my section I didn't even know, and we
were finally set to go. This didn't stop the HC from shitting us out for
another ten minutes that we were late and that this was unacceptable and
that we would pay for it tomorrow, etc.

We were told to line up in 4 rows, and the HC marched us off to the girls
hostel, all the time shouting at us to keep in time with each other, to make
sure there were no gaps between us and the person infront of us, and to shut
the fuck up! After five minutes of really brisk walking, we arrived at the
girl's hostel. We lined up in four rows, facing the first year girls in
front of us and they were lined up in three across the road rows facing us.

"The Ladies of such-and-such Residence greet the wolves of Rathbone Hall."

"The men of Rathbone Hall greet the ladies of such-and --such hostel."

We exchanged the formal greeting while still lined up facing each other
(obviously I'm in Rathbone Hall). The HC from both hostels then moved away
from between us and then the head of our HC shouted at us.

"Gentlemen, start mixing".

We were then expected to walk over to the girls, introduce ourselves to one
of them, and they would be our date for the night. Now the reason I knew all
of this was because of rumours and stories that people had been exchanging
earlier in the corridor. So I walked up to a really tall, blond girl and
introduced myself. I was a bit nervous, but this sort of thing I could
handle. I gave her a sort of side-on hug as she introduced herself as Roxy.

I was a lot luckier than some of my more shy guys. They didn't act fast
enough and landed up with really ugly girls (Roxy was super hot, sort of
Scandinavian looking) or even worse, they were so slow, the girls were all
taken up and they had no one left to mix with. The lucky ones, however,
managed to team up with one of their friends who had found a girl, so they
didn't look too bad. I didn't know any of the other first years, however, so
I didn't share my girl.

Roxy and I hit it off quickly. We had a lot in common, not the least of
which is that both our parents love Europe and went there really often. We
sat talking the entire time, not once getting bored. I kept stealing glances
at her body (Ok, I know this is a gay story, but she really was sizzling). I
couldn't help myself. As if her face wasn't beautiful enough, she had one
really fit looking body. She was wearing a short, black skirt with high
heels, and I couldn't take my eyes off her legs. They weren't as tanned as I
would say an average South African girl (I later found out she had spent the
summer in Europe where it was winter), but she had killer legs nonetheless.
I really like legs on a girl. A girl can have the best boobs in town, but
for me, it's the legs that seal the deal. And she had legs that just did it
for me: long and lean.

By the end of the evening, when the HC were shouting at us that it was time
to go, we quickly exchanged numbers, promising to contact each other as soon
as hazing was over (hopefully even before that if we could sneak some
private time). We then once again lined up facing each other, once again
exchanging the formal greeting.

"The ladies of such-and-such residence thank the wolves of Rathbone Hall.
You made our palms drip, and our knees weak."

"The men of Rathbone Hall thank the ladies of such-and-such Residence."

Now alot of you guys may laugh at the corny things the girls residence said
to us, and so did we at that stage. But there was absolutely nothing you can
do about it when the HC tells you what to say. You just have to say it, no
matter how embarrassing. And more often than not, it was very embarrassing
as they try to cut everyone down to size.

That night, we still had a full three hour lecture on the history of the
hostel before we got dismissed. We were once again given five minutes and
then told it had to be lights out. My roommate hadn't pitched yet, so I was
alone in my room when they cut the lights. I didn't mind too much though. It
was nice to have my own space, and I was tired anyway. I closed my eyes, and
before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

So guys, that's part three of my story. No sex, I know, but I'll get there.
The purpose of this story is not JUST sex, it's also my life you know, and
unfortunately for me, it doesn't have sex in it every single day. Haha. But
yeah, let me know what you all think by dropping me some mail. Thanks to
everyone who's been doing it already (like Oz, who gave me some really good
advice), but for those of you who haven't, would be really good to hear from
you. I know this story sounds really random at times, and I kept on about
Anna, but that's honestly how I experienced it, so I'm just `keeping it
real'.

Luca

lucawarberg@gmail.com