I live by the clich‚ “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” especially the latter part of that statement. So, on my way to Boston, I had imagined a campus full of suits walking around spewing financial jargon I wouldn’t understand, hissing at me as I naively blurt out “finance” with a long “i.” I imagined my dorm room to be the size of my queen size bed at home. I decided that I would be waiting out the last few hot days of August in an un-air-conditioned, tiny room, forming silhouettes of sweat on my sheets.
I wasn’t really too far off on the size of my dorm, but I was pleasantly surprised at how nice the room was. It was air-conditioned and I had mints on my pillow from the man who claims that he will clean my room each week. I had worked in advertising in New York for three years, where rent almost equaled salary, and so I wasn’t used to luxuries like brand name Tic-Tacs on my pillow and a cleaning person. I even brought my own towel and my high school padlock to Shad Fitness Center today. Silly me.
And in terms of the people, I quickly met quite a few seemingly great people. They were funny, came from all over the map, had fantastic backgrounds and were generally down-to-earth. I still have a feeling that my pronunciation of “finance” is courteously frowned upon. However, it turns out that most people came with the same fears about the students of HBS as I did, and while I’ve heard some horror stories people have already experienced here, it seems that we are all happy and excited to be here.
Orientation week has been a fun, back-to-college-like experience, with pub-crawls and fake casino nights. And soon we’ll embark on our new challenges of Foundations and the wireless Ethernet. I’m nervous and excited, but surely not alone. How can anyone not be nervous after unexpectedly receiving a stack of homework at registration that was thicker and heavier than our mammoth Creating Modern Capitalism book? Who knows what life or people will be like when classes start? Will we really get used to these scary underground tunnels and calling ourselves “RCs?” Will we get used to waking up early and being students again? I suppose the only thing to do now is to hope for the best…