Salient. Victoria University Student Newspaper. Volume 35 No 5. March 29, 1972
Moan Session
Moan Session
Sir,
I do not know how one is supposed to learn properly in this institution. Having no accommodation and therefore living two miles and twenty minutes by bus, I arrive exhausted after battling the eternal wind as I climb the 130 vertical steps from town. Climbing up to find a classroom so overcrowded that it is virtually impossible to take notes without jabbing my elbow into the person next to me. Trying to hear the Professor read his notes, the same of which he has obviously read for the past ten years, is almost impossible over the rattling of the windows and creaking of the seats, both of which are on the verge of collapse.
Unable to buy my needed books as they are on order from America, which will take twelve weeks, I wait my way up to the Closed Reserve desk to find the books are either in use not in the library or unable to be found! As I am not so fast runner, I make the third floor of the library too late and find the only books left on my subjects are now obsolete. It is perhaps just as well as my name has been next on the temporary library card list for one week and I'm tired of being told perhaps it is ready 'now'. Feeling depressed I try to find cheer by reading all the Jesus advertisements and wonder if I should laugh or cry.
Unable to find a seat in the cafeteria for lunch I start off in search of a toilet. After wandering the Hunter building, I am told the Student Union is well equipped with those sort of facilities. Finally after finding what I need in the Rankine Brown, I struggle my way through the crowds and find indeed if I wait long enough I can have my privacy. After being burned by the hot water tap, as the cold does not work, I find my next class is about to begin. Unfortunately no one knows where the tutorial is to be held. After walking in a group for fifteen minutes we finally are led to an old empty house with lots of uncomfortable floor upon which to sit. We sit through a supposed discussion, in which the tutorial Head explains for twenty-five minutes what our Professor in that subject has been trying to say in lectures, to again battle the wind back to the University Buildings.
The noise of drills and hammers does keep me awake during my next class, but willing to show good sense of humour, I decide to be friendly to a fellow sheep sitting beside me. My mouth soon shuts self-conciously, though, as I am mistaken for a "Yank" and stored at with a mixture of distrust and dislike.
I again walk down the 130 steps to my overcrowded bus which costs me 30c a day and back to home sweet home - no wiser academically, but perhaps gaining somewhat in the realization that life must get better.
An Overseas Student.
J.A.S.