Students Poppy Haynes and Chantel Lyon wrapped in their winter clothes at their Forth St flat in 2007. PHOTO: PETER MCINTOSH Our second semester is upon us already, bringing that usual existential crisis we all collectively have, where we wonder where all the time has gone. But this has manifested itself in a confident attitude, with a determination to do everything we didn’t get right last time and to, above all, make the most of this experience. Moving back into our halls after recuperating at home for a much needed few weeks brought on a complex mix of emotions. And although home will be missed, without offending parents, it’s undeniably overshadowed by the excitement and fun of being back with new friends and old. I’m sure they understand. The first time we did this at the beginning of semester one, it was overrun with anxiety and fear of the unknown. The absence of these feelings is something that is undeniably unsettling. Becoming used to this new life, this new routine, has snuck up on us. The normalcy of it all is new, and personally, I’m not too sure what to do with it. How simply we’ve been able to turn this new life into our day-to-day, becoming used to its comings and goings and the multitude of endless experiences it brings. It’s reassuring that we know now what to expect, that we’re more sure of how to manage university life, but this lack of anticipation is almost scary in its own right. Its lack of existence makes us feel as if we’re doing something wrong, almost like the fact that it’s gone is a bad thing. It makes us question, “is this just what life is like now?” Will we constantly look back on the past year and wonder, “when did we get used to it all?” But I think we’re ready for it all. Semester one provided a perfect basis for us, building a strong foundation without our active awareness. We were shown what we individually like and what we don’t like, not only in papers and university. It’s rare to find someone who has stuck completely to their plan of university from the beginning of the year. It’s extremely common to find someone who has discovered they don’t actually fancy a certain profession or subject for themselves anymore. Coming back to halls and discovering this norm has offered a relief that I didn’t know I needed; I have exhaled a long breath I was subconsciously holding. This refresh was needed. Looking back on semester one, it was all a bit rushed. A wonderful type of rushed, but unorganised and all over the place nonetheless. We know what to expect now, we know what we like to do. Even walking around campus, I realised I no longer think twice about it. The buildings don’t feel so intimidating anymore. We don’t walk around in circles, our phones clutched tightly in our hands, providing us with directions. We’ve even braved Castle this week, something that only took us half a year to build up the courage to do. So it’s safe to say that this week, with no tutorials yet, lectures and course work are not exactly at the forefront of our minds, instead relegated to the back, where they wait to leap forward in an explosion of stress. We took notes from last semester, and we’ve started this one with a resolution to maximise everything. Perhaps there is one thing that others are still becoming used to, and that’s a Dunedin winter. Debates about jackets are endless. Do you bring one on a night out, or rely on the not-assured warmth of an alcohol blanket? Do you wear layers to fight the cold, or do you dedicate yourself to fashion? Umbrellas lie at the bottom of bags — a necessary precaution, lest you get caught in a sudden downpour. It’s something the Aucklanders especially are struggling with. Merinos and raincoats just aren’t cool enough, apparently. Oh well. I’m sure flatting next year will sort them out. • Eleanor Wong is a Dunedin first year University of Otago student.
