The Quest For Knowledge

I admit it. I am addicted. It’s not just me! Everyone on Winn is doing it…We are addicted to studying after midnight. It is the reality which we cannot escape from. Sometimes in this junky state (studying), I daydream that we are shadowy figures of the night …

We take the form of mysterious, faceless beings roaming the desert plains in a loosely fit single file. Some toil through the sand whilst others, as is characteristic of groups, walk commandingly across the sand dunes. Along the way we confront winds battering us with sheets of sand. Some fall, but they always get back up. Regardless of the challenge, we do not flinch. We just continue our trek in the cold and empty desert, for days on end without resting.

We cannot rest until we find the oasis. The reservoir of knowledge that completes our understanding of the subject each person is studying. No matter how long the work is or how difficult it is, we are the mysterious shadowy figures that always get back up, determined to reach that Zen of understanding in our courses. This is the reality that has infiltrated my subconscious, manifesting itself as us becoming a group of nomads seeking precious water, which is symbolic of our quest for knowledge.

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HORROR!

Last weekend was my first Halloween. I admit it, I was a Halloween virgin. I did not know the mysteries of this celebration of ghouls and ghosts. Last week I bubbled with excitement at the prospect of gaining insight into this morbid festival, which had so transfixed my American peers with glee in anticipation. Don’t get me wrong, I had heard rumors about what happens during Halloween, the trick or treating’, the dressing up, the parties, but nothing could have prepared me for the Rocky Horror show. At the insistence of some peers I attended this Trinity event. Nothing could have prepared me for what I would see. My eyes lost their innocence in a show characterized by lingerie, drag queens and overt sexual innuendo which took audience participation to a new level.

If you were like me and had never seen a rocky horror show production, you were classified with a big red “V” on your forehead. This letter in lipstick helped the cast identify prime targets to initiate into this raunchy show that looked like something out of The Bacchae. Admittedly, I was perturbed by the prospect of plunging myself into this production that turned even the most masculine males into sexually suggestive cross dressers. So, I rubbed out “V” off my forehead and resumed my role purely as a spectator.

Even though, I was stunned by this production, I had more than a few giggles and frozen moments in utter awe. Yes, this show was definitely a transition for me, coming from a totally different culture, but I think it as a learning curb. A welcomed exposure to a different type of theatre which I have to admit was entertaining. That is, when once the shock had finally subsided.