The past few weeks have caused me to make more adjustments than Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciappara does between pitches. Ever since I arrived on campus, I've been engulfed in a sea of new faces and new experiences and, I will admit, there have been times when I thought I might drown.
While it seems as though everyone is bending over backwards to make the transition to Dartmouth as smooth as possible, I still feel like something's missing. Don't get me wrong, I'm having a great time here, and I'm enjoying all the new experiences and people and places. It's just that everything here is so different, for better and for worse.
I came from a public high school in suburban New Jersey (make all the jokes you want), and by my senior year, I was very used to a certain routine. I knew what I was good at and what I liked. I knew the names of just about everyone I saw in the hallways. I knew which classes I could sleep through and which ones I actually had to work at.
I worked in the town pharmacy over the summer, so I knew who was buying which prophylactics, who was on Prozac and whose father was taking Viagra. I knew where all the speed traps were and knew which cops would let me talk my way out of a ticket. I even knew which liquor stores would accept my pathetic fake ID.
I played baseball in high school and knew how to pitch to certain batters. I knew who I could throw at to start a fight and who to pitch around. Hell, I even knew who not to sit next to on long bus rides because of their unique odor.
Most importantly, I had known all my friends and enemies for most of my life and everyone knew me. My best friends were people I was so close and comfortable with that I knew what they were thinking before they did. I had a reputation and a history (which alternated from being a good thing and a bad thing).
But things are different here at Dartmouth. I have no history. I'm learning (with questionable success) to play rugby, because my fastball isn't what it needs to be. I actually have to go to all of my classes and stay awake for most of them. Speed traps don't bother me here because I don't drive (besides, everyone drives under 15 m.p.h. here anyway). I forgot everyone's name already; I don't know anyone's unique odor (I'm not complaining), and my fake ID is useless because I have absolutely no idea where to find alcohol. No idea whatsoever.
But the most overwhelming difference between life here and life back home is the friendships. At times I feel as though I'll never meet anyone like the friends I had back home. At other times, though, I know that everything will be all right and that I'm bound to make friends that are just as endearing, if not more so. And if I can't yet read my friends' minds, that's what BlitzMail is for, I guess.
While this whole experience has been new for me, it is one that I wouldn't give up for the world. And if you have to die of something, what better than to drown in a sea of new faces and experiences? My home and my friends and everything that was a part of me before will continue to be a cherished part of me. I can only hope that it will be strengthened by my new home and new friends and new experiences. I look forward to my life at Dartmouth.
