48 Leb

I welcomed myself into the real world during my junior fall, when I moved off campus. The move from Dartmouth to Hanover caused a significant change in my college lifestyle. My new home, which is the kind of place realtors like to call a "handyman's special," rents for just $1,400 a month plus utilities. Once we got the place fixed up, it was a perfect Eden until the pipes burst. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

During my first two years at Dartmouth, home was New Hampshire Hall. I loved that big old coed dorm. Most of the rooms were large and had working fireplaces, and, of course, there was that all-important janitor who took care of us. But the best thing about New Hamp was the friendships I made there.

Next came one of the college-owned Maxwell apartments, where I lived during my sophomore year. Located down by the River Cluster, Maxwell is the ultimate in oncampus housing: each apartment has four spacious singles, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. For me, it combined the best of two worlds: private living and College employees who took care of necessities like repairs and toilet paper. Still, Maxwell isn't really someplace you could call your own.

A group of my New Hamp friends and I made the final break from College comforts during the fall of junior year. Our search for the perfect house took weeks a modest dwelling in Hanover starts at $150,000, and rents are comparably stratospheric. Nonetheless we had hope, thanks to student economics: once we found a house, we knew, we could just keep cramming rent-paying bodies into it until the place was affordable.

And then we found it. Located way down Lebanon Street just beyond Hanover High School, it looked like an abandoned shack. The paint, where there was some, was faded and peeling, some of the windows were cracked, and the rotting steps that led up to the front door were on a slant. The inside was little better. But there was a lawn, a driveway, and a front porch. Besides, we were desperate. The 15 minute walk to campus would be invigorating, and the house had potential (how could it get any worse?), so we signed the lease. Soon, we had the entire New Hamp crowd transplanted into the house, nine of us in four bedrooms, paying $156 per person monthly, plus all utilities. That is a third less than the charge for the cheapest dorm room double occupancy.

Then came the rude awakening. In a dorm, all one has to do at the beginning of the fall is make the bed, unpack clothes and books, and hang some posters on the wall. We didn't reach this stage until the third week of the term. Endless hours were spent throwing out junk, cleaning, scrubbing, collecting furniture and other belongings from the New Hamp storage room, and organizing. Meanwhile, we squabbled frequently with the landlord.

As tenants, we were responsible for mowing the lawn (and even for finding a lawnmower) and shovelling the driveway. And thqe winters! That simple 15 minute walk, in a town where "wind chill" takes on deep meaning, became a killer. The heating bills were another surprise. Then, when we returned from Christmas vacation all ready to snuggle into our hard-won home, we found that the living room had turned into a swamp and our belongings were soaked. The pipes had burst.

But, considering all that, 48 Leb, as we affectionately came to call it, didn't seem so bad after a while. By early spring, we were no longer committing bravado when we called it "the nicest house in Hanover." Considering what we had started with, the place was beautiful. Even our parents were impressed when they came to visit. The nine of us cemented some unique and lasting friendships. Strength through adversity.

A dorm has enormous advantages, but so does a house: a couch and a television, a kitchen filled with appliances and food, parking spaces right outside the door. There is also the potential for some peace and quiet, even when one lives with eight others. In a dorm, there's always a stereo blasting somewhere.

As for campus life, I don't think I've missed much. Living off campus and feeling just a bit "out of it" has made me more interested in what is going on with the College than when I was living in the dorm. For example, when in New Hamp I hardly ever picked up copies of the "alternative" newspapers strewn in the hallways; these days I seek out those publications.

Not that my housemates and I have reached perfect equilibrium. Recently, my roommate's father caught us unaware when he came up to visit unexpectedly. "I guess the maid hasn't been here in a while," he said wryly. Dirty dishes were piled high, a broken vacuum cleaner gathered dust in the closet, and the rough draft of someone's 15-page term paper was scattered all over the floor.

But, for better or worse, a little bit of disorganization is part of the real world, too. As a soon-to-be alum, I can't help but think that, like 48 Leb itself, life beyond Dartmouth definitely has potential.

As a graduating senior, Lesley Barnes will beginlooking for a new place to live this summer.