A lawless land

Living in res was a weird time, I loved it as much as I hated it. Living with 60 other girls could be strenuous, you would have to deal with the strangest of habits. One girl used to cook boiled eggs in her room, the smell of egg would permeate into the hall and hang around for hours after said egg was eaten.

It was just something that happened. Likewise, on those late nights when there’s nothing left to do but put on a movie and waste away the wee hours of the day, making popcorn is an art. Mirren, my dear friend, could never get it right.

She flooded the third floor with the stench of burnt popcorn for what felt like days. And it wasn’t even a once off occasion.

But perhaps the hardest part of living in res was the fridge. The communal fridge on each floor that just couldn’t protect itself against the thieves.

My first interaction with said thief was in my very first week in Oriel, I had purchased a ripe and fresh bar of chocolate, a sweet treat for a hard day. Well, the thief must have had a shit time because that whole bar went missing the next day and I was left staring at the empty space where I had put my chocolate. A hole in my heart where the chocolate should have been.

“Did you hear about Justine’s pizza?” Tshiamo asked as we crowded her bed, ready to watch the next Game of Thrones episode.

“No?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Someone took a bite of two slices and just left them there.” She chuckled. “Like, who the fuck does that?”

Who indeed. In another incident someone dipped their fingers into Sasha’s lunchbox. Nibbling on her leftover ribs and leaving the bones there, mocking her with their grand heist.

Juices, fruit, milk, anything the thief could get their hands on was taken. The situation became so dire that we had to have a house meeting, everyone staring at everyone with suspicion. We wanted to know who it was, we demanded blood.

We never found out.

I could let these occurrences go, I had a degree to worry about, not my milk that disappeared far too

quickly. I learnt to lock my food away and finish things, so it wouldn’t have to be in the fridge for too long.

Did my patience not bite me in the ass.

In my second year I developed a slight obsession with Capri-Suns. You know, the small pouch of ambrosia gifted from the gods that just fill you up with joy? Well there was a stage where I bought ten of them at a time and they lasted me maybe two days, if I were lucky. Everyone knew how much I loved my Capri-Suns, they were sacred. I was saving one for the end of the day. I had just finished my English term essay and handed in a Journalism article.

As I rounded the corner and merrily opened the fridge my heart shattered into a thousand pieces and landed in a heap at my feet. There, were my Capri-Sun should have been, was nothing. Nothing but my despair and rage.

Call me dramatic, but I really wanted that Capri-Sun.

Besides the slight difficulties, res could be a whole lot of fun. Oriel is one of the smaller residences, the small house helps cultivate close relationships. Well I may not have been best friends with every girl there, I was friendly. This meant I had no shame in randomly bursting into rooms or giving a girl a fright at night when they unfortunately rounded a corner and I was there.

“Kylie!” Tshiamo bellowed from her room.

“What?” I screamed back as I relentlessly typed away, the deadline for my essay fast approaching.

“I’m stuck! What novel focused on transnationalism?” Tshiamo continued to scream.

“Uh,” Looking around me and grabbed the book. “Interpreter of maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri!”

“Thank you!”

Mirren scowled from her spot on my bed. “You two are a room apart, can you not just walk to her?”

“She wanted my attention, she must come here.” I answered, my attention back at my essay. “Do you think I can write 600 words in half an hour?”

“Kylie!”

“Tshiamo!”

“Enough!” Mirren yelled and pushed me out of my own room. “Go to her room before you get noise hours.”

At least we were only a room apart. Sino and Buhle were an entire floor apart.

“Who is screaming like that?” I asked Tshiamo as we walked passed the fridge- the same one where someone’s lunch went missing.

“Probably Sino and Buhle, they talk to each other through the floor boards.”

“You’re not serious?”

“Yep, they have whole conversations.”

I don’t know what that means for the structural integrity of the building. But the living in Oriel wasn’t the only ‘res’ experience. A large part was the Dining Hall, the Dh, the sphere of inhabitation where the food was mildly edible and the water utterly undrinkable.

“God damnit,” Tshiamo groaned and dropped into the seat in front of me with a frown. Her eyes surveyed her tray with distain. “I forgot to change my meals. I’m stuck on default for the rest of the week and it’s meatloaf today.” She hung her head in defeat. “This is going to wreck my stomach.”

I stared down at my spicy chicken pizza and shovelled a piece into my mouth, a smug grin on my face. “You should pick Halaal, it’s the way to go.” She threw a salt sachet at my face.

Mirren poked her head through the window and caught our eye. “What’s default’s menu today?”

“Meatloaf.” Tshiamo answered and stabbed the lumpy piece with a fork. Mirren’s face twisted in disgust and she eyed the salad table.

“Do they have peanut butter out?”

Stretching her neck Myticia squinted. “Yeah they do.”

“Fuck yeah.” Mirren clapped her hands together and bounded inside. Grabbing a side plate and scooping a healthy amount of DH peanut butter she made her way to our table.

“You can’t just eat peanut butter.” I said with concern as I watched her lovingly eat her first spoonful.

“If I eat the meatloaf I’ll be sick.” She reasoned. “This will last me. I’ll even make myself some coffee.”

Rumbi came in with a huff. “I didn’t change my meals, what’s default?”

“Meatloaf.” The table answered.

“Nope.” She replied and, on her heel, turned and walked right out.