The memories of my first evening in Champaign on Aug. 7, 2003, are still fresh in my mind as if it was yesterday. I have good reasons for it. Not only was I going to attend a school with an excellent program in my field of study, but I also came from Chicago to Champaign in a Limousine (oh yeah, it’s true, it was long, white, and shiny, and I had it almost all to myself). This was just my 13th day in America and the fun was just about to begin. A couple of days later I heard about the Cosmopolitan Club, during one of the orientation sessions, but that was pretty much it for the next nine months.
Then in May 2004, while doing some house hunting, I came across this place again and before long I was to be a resident of the house starting in August. The following summer was an exciting experience (traveled some 4,000 miles) but little did I know that come August, I would embark on an even greater experience that would take me all around the world without having to leave the confines of a house.
I moved into the Cosmopolitan House on Aug. 8. Despite being extremely tired from a frantic two-day effort to move my stuff from my previous place, a strange feeling kindled inside me, something I call “hesitant excitement.” I had gotten a room in the basement, which has now come to be known (fondly, I hope) by various names such “the dungeon” or “the fiery pit” and even “the devil’s lair.” The last one goes rather well with the nickname that was almost imposed on me – “the devil.” It’s a pretty nice cozy little place, gives me my privacy, and most importantly, it allows me to listen to loud music (which is not too loud though).
However, as every rose has its thorns, all these amenities come at a price. There is a certain probability of the basement flooding at times because of heavy rainfall. It has happened seldom but cannot be taken lightly. As a matter of fact it just might happen as I write this article because of the rain outside. Well on my part I think I have taken care of the situation. The solution, my curious friends, is age-old yet ever so believable. I pray to the Rain God and make sure I offer an animal sacrifice and feed the hungry to please him/her (trying to avoid gender discrimination here!). Thus I religiously visit KFC – they whack the chicken for me (and man do they do a good job or what!), and I make sure it reaches the hungry (ME!). Thus far the trick’s worked well and I hope things will go well in the future too.
Hey, I completely forgot about the other problem. Well, it’s not exactly one but anyway, the situation is that there is one restroom on the first floor and then one for the guys on the third floor. Now the one on the first floor is nice and clean, but it’s kind of too roomy for me and makes me a bit uncomfortable. So I prefer the one upstairs, and man, imagine running up four floors (basement up) with a bladder that’s about to burst – oh its such a sweet feeling that I don’t have words to describe it (and I am sure your are glad for that).
Well talking about going upstairs, we have the living room on the first floor. This place is like the centre of the house, like the water hole in a jungle, where everybody comes to relax, eat, and drink. This is also the place where I first met my housemates. After two weeks of moving in, I had been introduced to all the 13 other members of the house. They form an unusual but interesting group of people, representing some 10 countries and speaking about 13 languages.
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Ajay Sikander Singh, Stefan Walter, house manager Andres Fernandez, and Daniela Lindner gather to greet guests before a coffee hour |
Each of them has a unique personality (influenced to some extent, I believe by the different cultures they have been exposed to) and possesses different ideals which are often as far apart from those of others as are their respective countries. Nevertheless there are many things that are common to all of them – they are all probably one of the best in their fields, they are individuals who are not only successful academically but also in extracurricular activities and most importantly, all of them use their gifts to work towards making each others’ stay in the house a pleasant and comfortable one.
The past three months of my stay have been a lot of fun. We have made music videos (yes, we are almost famous!), went canoeing (and boy, was it thrilling, riding over those inch-tall ripples [read as huge waves]) in waters that were hardly two feet deep, but in my usual, nothing is impossible style, I did get soaking wet, had to drive back home half naked, and that t-shirt is still lying in the back of my car (it’s been three months since then).
We’ve been bowling (another learning experience), checked out a couple of interesting places to eat (OK! Now this one I won’t elaborate upon too much ‘cause there is another and I believe more deserving person writing about it. However I must mention that at times I felt as if I was watching a live show of Ripley’s Believe It or Not, and I believe what I saw and for once was only too glad to be a spectator), and have watched movies (at times two or three in a row, starting at midnight (nah! just kidding).
Hey, did I mention about my car somewhere in the previous lines? It’s not just any car, it’s what my housemates call “our car” (talk about being presumptuous), for me to drive and them to ride! It’s very heartwarming when they talk about the “Blue Beauty” (as I like to call it) so fondly and caringly, at times they are nicer to it than they are to me (aaa! on second thought make it most of the times). Hey, “caring” here means how I should take care of it and clean it up. But it’s not as bad as it seems to be, fellows (it’s EVEN WORSE). No, I am just kidding, I am only too glad to be able to help out my housemates, my friends. As a matter of fact, our almost weekly trips to Meijer’s or WalMart are quite revealing in the sense that they give me an insight into their eating and shopping preferences, things which are otherwise considered rather personal, at times trivial, to be discussed (and please don’t think I go sniffing through everybody’s bags!).
This is not all folks! There is another side of the life here, which I think I shall treasure more than anything else. Living here I have made friends, lots of them and hopefully lifelong friends
The late night discussions that we have (and trust me, these ones really do start after midnight; it almost seems to follow a general rule – the darker the night the more interesting in the conversation.). All joking aside, these discussion sessions have made me more aware of the way things work in other parts of the world, and how people living there think the way they think.
I have gained from the experiences of my friends here, not to mention the incredible feeling I get when I see them put such incredible amount of faith in me and discuss even the most personal issues. It sort of makes me feel that they care about me and I am only too glad to reciprocate the same feeling towards them, only with greater intensity (it kind of follows through the all or nothing philosophy that I have towards life). Some of the thoughts put across during these talks have really touched my heart and soul, have made me question myself at times and have made me “reaware,” so to speak, about things I seemed to have lost sight of on my pursuit of things more pertinent to the everyday existence.
Friends and Experiences like this, I believe, are essential to assure a continual improvement of one’s self to become a better person (but then again, in case there is only as much as this thing can do. You may ask why. The answer, my friend – it’s difficult to improve on perfection. Self-conceited am I!). I can go on and on writing about my Cosmopolitan experience, but I hope in this article I have been able to describe the wonderful place and certainly the people I live with. I am glad to share the great experience I have had so far and look forward to more of it. The only way to live life is the Cosmopolitan way!