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GOING GREEK

an endpaper

By Joshua J. Schanker

First rule of fraternities: Never call them "frats." After all, as fraternity members rhetorically ask, would you call your mother a moth? Would you call your country a cu--...well, you get the idea.

Second rule of fraternities: If you're ever visiting a school that's big on the fraternity scene, don't expect a typical Harvard weekend--especially if you're staying at a large state school, or a university known more for its parties than for its faculty.

I always keep these two rules in mind when I visit my high school friends Todd and Brian, who are in the same fraternity at a small liberal arts college in Pennsylvania. When I last visited them a few weeks ago, it was not an ordinary Harvard weekend, to say the least.

The visit started out a little slow. After playing basketball with some of the brothers, I was left to watch TV while my friends ran a pledge event known as "Food Beirut." For those not familiar with plain "Beirut," it is a drinking game--much like beer-pong--in which people on opposite sides of a table throw ping-pong balls into cups filled with beer; if a ball goes into a cup, the other team must drink.

"Food Beirut" differs in that the cups are filled with semi-edible leftovers from the freezer mixed together in a blender. Plain "Beirut" is played by everyone; "Food Beirut" is played only by pledges who must engage in the activity until they all puke.

The night picked up from there. Todd and Brian's fraternity had a mini-party featuring your typical selection of alcohol as well as Beirut, not to mention a showing of Austin Powers. After a while, people began to get pretty sloppy, and at about 4 a.m., while looking for Todd, I walked by a brother who was passed out on his feet, propped against the door, fully naked.

An hour later, when I told Todd about Dice (the naked brother) he was surprised. Todd said that when Dice and his girlfriend get drunk they often walk around scantily clothed, but never fully naked. I must be mistaken.

But then the door to Todd's room burst open and in walked Dice's girlfriend, naked as the day she was born. She lay down next to me on the couch and I promptly jumped up (after all, Dice can bench a lot more than I can). Todd tried to get her up, but was unsuccessful, seeing that she was barely conscious and kept asking him to lie down with her. Eventually, Todd asked if she knew who he was, to which she replied, "Yeah, Gambetta, come back to bed."

Reality check 1: Todd is not Gambetta. Reality Check 2: Dice and Gambetta are two different brothers in the fraternity.

After Dice's girlfriend alluded to, among other things, threesomes between her, Dice and Gambetta, Todd eventually got her to stand up and make the long trek across the hallway to Dice's room.

The next day proved to be equally eventful. After playing tackle football in the morning, seven of us drove to a toga party sponsored by Todd and Brian's fraternity chapter at Penn State. The party featured live goldfish to swallow, and brothers passing around "Gold Bond," a powder which both guys and girls rub on their crotches to obtain a tingling feeling. (Unfortunately, refusing to try it, I can't verify the experience.)

About 20 minutes into the party we found out that one of my friend's brothers had just had oral sex in his Nissan Maxima with a girl he had just met. Needless to say, no one wanted to drive home in his car.

As the house filled, the band played and people got drunk, guys from the Penn State fraternity proceeded with one of their house traditions--whipping out their testicles from their togas while walking around the house repeatedly declaring, "This party's nuts. This party's nuts." Later, Beirut was played "balls out."

That night I slept on a floor, and the next day five of us drove back in a car that barely fit two (recall the Nissan Maxima incident). I returned to Boston with back pains, not exactly rested, but somehow revived by the weekend.

I never know what to make of my visits to Todd and Brian's fraternity. I always have a great time and the craziness is always a welcomed change of pace from typical Harvard night life. I am also always impressed by how the fraternity fosters such close friendships and camaraderie.

Yet it is hard to overlook much of what is behind a fraternity's existence. As humorous as they may be, I have difficulty justifying hazing events such as "Food Beirut." (Especially knowing that hazing events at other schools are often far worse.) It is even more difficult to overlook the social ills and dangerous circumstances fostered by fraternities that at best result in uncomfortable social situations and, at worst, result in horrific events like the death of Scott Kruegger at MIT.

My trip to see Todd and Brian last fall epitomizes my mixed feelings about fraternities. When I was there for a football game, I was amazed by the scene. The tailgates before the event, which included a slip-n-slide powered by beer, put Harvard Springfest to shame. Every station featured a large barbecue, keg and music (one tailgate even had a live band performing on top of a van). But most importantly, almost everyone at the school actually attended the tailgates. Such school spirit would never surface at Harvard, (Don't be fooled, though--just like at Harvard, no one at their school goes to the game, but at least everyone is there beforehand, getting drunk at the tailgates.)

How was such success obtained at a school with worse athletics than any Ivy League university? Through the fraternities running the events. All of them flew their Greek letters above their post, and each tried to outdo the others so their station would be the most popular. Since the social life at my friends' school revolves around these fraternities, the event was both fun and well-attended.

Not that all their fraternities are godsends. The evening before the game, a few of us were touring the night scene, and while waiting on line for a fraternity party we saw a student thrown down a large flight of stairs onto the concrete. A brother of the house hosting the party ran to the bloody and injured student, seemingly to offer help, but instead proceeded to beat and kick the student until his friends finally intervened.

The event might have made quite a stir on the Harvard campus. It would probably have garnered a lead story in The Crimson. But at my friends' school the event seemed more commonplace. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about this house," said Brian after the spectacle. "They're all body builders here. They're not on any sports teams or anything--they just work out so they can kick the shit out of everyone."

The contrast was striking and made me wonder whether Harvard is better or worse for not having a fraternity system. Regardless of the answer, I wonder whether there is a way to achieve the best of both worlds--to foster campus unity, camaraderie and crazy night life created by fraternities while not jeopardizing the safety or political correctness of Harvard.

Many would argue it's not possible. Some say that it's the hazing that fosters the camaraderie within fraternities. Others say what makes fraternities so much fun is the fact that members always live dangerously and parties are out of control. Even if we had fraternities, on a campus as diverse as Harvard, could there ever be college unity?

Perhaps the good and bad are not so separable and Harvard should feel lucky that it is not dominated by the fraternity scene, as are many of our neighboring colleges are. But that doesn't stop me from thinking about the good times I've had visiting Todd and Brian, and wondering if there's something we're missing at Harvard.

Josh was the president of the 124th Guard of The Crimson.

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