| What on Earth is Raisin Weekend, anyway? |
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| Many have wondered. Few have touched the heart of the mystery. Or something. Take a look what happened the night before, or the morning after. Alternatively, go to photogallery central, or return to my homepage. |
| To be honest, I haven't a clue how or why Raisin Weekend became an integral part of the student calendar at St Andrews. But here's a rundown of what generally goes on... It all begins at the beginning, as it were. From the moment they arrive in St Andrews, poor, innocent freshers are part of the complex and often deadly (er, dramatic licence) game that is hunting a family. The idea is for first years to attach themselves, by hook or by crook, to existing students - third and fourth years, usually, although medics get to start in second year because they only spend three years in sunny St A - willing to act as their 'parents'. The optimum number is two, although in these liberated times the sky's the limit, really. I came from a single-parent family, while my three-and-a-third (long story) children have four fathers between them. Ahem... Those without parents on the eve of Raisin Weekend need not despair - the Union holds an Orphans Party every year in the immediate run-up to the event, for those last few looking to be taken in. This may all sound dreadfully cheesy, but the nature of the parenting is really all down to the wishes of those involved. The basic point is to help the kids settle in, up their alcohol intake, etc., but it really all depends on what you want. And, of course, the true purpose of academic families is found in Raisin Weekend. Raisin Weekend itself falls on the weekend preceding Week 9 of the first semester, i.e. approximately mid-November. The action begins early afternoon on the Sunday, with mothers' Tea Parties, and continues in the evening with parties thrown by the fathers. These traditionally include vodka jelly, bizarre punch mixtures, and lots of vaguely embarrassing drinking games. A touch of academic incest can also prove amusing, for the spectators at least (cute academic brothers/sisters/cousins/fathers are always useful for this part, although not essential). Kids are supposed to give their parents a Raisin gift at this point - usually a bottle of wine. Inevitably, some people overdo things, but Student Support Services have a rapid response unit - I'm not kidding - to remove and look after the ones doing the funny projectile vomiting. (Yes, we made use of them this year...) The following morning, those who aren't too hungover, or otherwise incapacitated (favourite method being a stomach pump at Dundee Ninewells), go round to their mothers' flats to be dressed up in their Raisin costumes - preferably something hideously embarrassing. Armed with Raisin Receipts, courtesy of their fathers (again, these are generally silly and/or hugely cumbersome, and often - ahem - blatantly stolen, like road signs, traffic cones, car doors, etc.), the kids then make their way to St Salvators Quad, where they destroy the peace and tranquility with a hungover shaving foam fight. Fantastic. The kids then grow up and inflict similar humiliations on future first years. It's all fun and games... |