As we prepare to say goodbye to the dorms that so lovingly housed us in 2015-16, emotions flare up. Bwogger Youngweon Lee tells her emotions in this Ode to Carman Hall.
Tell me, Columbia Housing, is there a dorm on campus
Quite as disgusting as Carman Hall?
What other dorm has bathroom air vents smelling of cannabis
and do such ugly cinder blocks make up any other wall?
Tell me, in what other Columbia dorm can I hear
sex noises from all directions, at all hours?
What other dorm has such smelly elevators
and disgusting stairwells as ours?
No other dorm is nearer to Ferris Booth
or to Beta house’s colorful gate of Hell;
if, as a freshman, you chose Carman as your abode
I can tell you confidently that you have chosen well.
Floor activities include Wednesday daydrinking
and filing noise complaints against each other.
But nevertheless, I love my floormates;
after all, we’re separated by walls as thin as feathers.
There are no real lounges on our floors
and the basement lounge is always reserved;
but we still hang out together somehow or other
even if we lack the common space we deserve.
I must also mention the mice that live in the basement;
they’re unnerving, but they mean no harm.
Call them gross, but they’re just trying to get by;
it’s not their fault they weren’t born on a farm.
We love to hate the elevators, but they’re doing their best;
it’s not their fault people always puke in them.
It’s because we binge-drink on Thursdays
and get wasted instead of studying for chem.
If you’re taking the elevator to anywhere
below the 5th floor, prepare to be shamed;
people who live on the 13th floor
will snort at you with malicious disdain.
If you want to take the stairs, better watch out;
there’s usually a used condom or two there.
If you don’t want that, I suppose
you could just move out and live elsewhere.
But for me, Carman is the ideal place
to have spent my first year at Columbia.
It’s degenerate and disgusting and messy,
quite a beautiful, happy dystopia.
Carman Hall via Columbia Housing