Last weekend I did something completely spur of the moment ““ I packed up my stuff and moved. I can’t really explain why, I just needed a change. I heard about the room swap program on the last day it was going on. I went in to the housing office at 6 p.m. and by 6:30 I had signed a new housing contract.
I didn’t do room swap because it seems that no one wanted to walk up to Hedrick every day. What I did was the equivalent of blind dating for the housing administration. I signed a paper and was given a room number in Dykstra that had an opening. For privacy considerations I wasn’t given any information about my roommates. The intensity of it suddenly hit me as I walked out the door. I realized that I had just committed myself to completely uproot myself in 48 hours. I had to be out of my old room by noon on Saturday. What happened in the last four hours of the 48 and those after completely changed the way I think about residential housing.
Of course, I waited until 9 a.m. of Saturday morning to start packing and moving. So at 10 a.m. on Saturday of the three-day weekend, when most people were recovering from parties the night before or at home eating mom’s much-craved pancakes, I was pushing (actually more like chasing) a cart down from Hedrick Summit to Dykstra Residence Hall. If you know anything about walking down the Hill ““ or anywhere for that matter with one of the residence hall carts ““ you know what I’m talking about. They are notorious for biting your ankles if you choose to walk in front, but at the same time nearly impossible to steer from the back. Let’s just say it was not a pretty sight. People passing by looked at me with pity, but at the same time no one dared offer a hand at maneuvering the wayward cart. I don’t blame them. I had initially hoped to take only one trip down, but of course my bamboo plant, keyboard, and no less than six pillows made this physically impossible. So I trudged the cart downhill twice and uphill three times, all before noon.
I have to say that upon first entering my new room, my heart sank a little. The high temperature that weekend set a record for the month of January (of course). So walking into a boiling-hot room without air conditioning after my exhausting trek down the Hill nearly broke my heart. I suppose that the lack of air conditioning in Dykstra is mainly common knowledge, but I, sequestered in the air-circulating luxury of Hedrick Summit, was oblivious. Then I saw my closet … if you could even call it that. Hoping to at least have a place of comfort, I sat down on my bed (the lower bunk) to examine the cupboard I’m supposed to fit everything in. I sat up from the bed, resolved to start unpacking, and hit my head on a bar underneath the top bunk that definitely hangs down more than it should.
Suddenly I had a wave of flashbacks of Hedrick Summit’s spacious rooms: beds with free head space, abundant storage, air conditioning, heater and private bathroom. However, the hard truth is that the more comfortable your room is, the less likely you are to leave it. Unfortunately, this axiom was becoming more and more evident in my daily routine. I am embarrassed to say that I couldn’t even tell you the names of my neighbors. Our floor was antisocial ““ we went to one floor dinner, then that was the end of that. I take the blame for not proactively making a huge effort to get to know people, but something about everyone’s doors always closed and the lounge always empty didn’t make exhibiting the effort look promising. After all, we all had our own bathrooms, our own TVs, wireless internet, microfridges, comfortable beds, perfectly heated atmospheres, and the company of six suitemates ““ why would we leave?
I have my theories about why Dykstra’s environment is more comfortable and friendly despite its lack of the luxuries of Hedrick Summit. Perhaps part of the reason it’s so much more social is you have to leave your room to use the bathrooms, or because of the open configuration of the building (one long row as opposed to twists and turns), or perhaps it has something to do with tradition. Richard Ngo of Dykstra 7 suggested that because residence halls are known for being friendly, “people aren’t afraid to be social because it’s fulfilling fate in sense.”
Or perhaps it’s just the amazing people living in Dykstra 7. They are the absolute most welcoming group of people I have ever encountered. I brought my chemistry book to the lounge to read and ended up meeting one-third of the floor and got acquainted over games of speed Scrabble. The doors even stay open easier here, and people actually stop by to talk. In Hedrick you had to use a delicately wedged flip flop or a heavy trash can to prop the door open, but here they just swing open and stay without propping. Yes, it’s a bit more cramped and hotter, but that’s made up for with the friendly social atmosphere. Waking up and hitting my head on a bar (which I wrapped in bubble wrap), getting dressed out of my crammed closet, and taking showers in a stall is completely worth it.
If you prefer a social floor to air conditioning then e-mail Brooke at bhollyfield@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.