Dossier Corpsbal Chapter #1

Remarkable matters (that we mortals don't understand)

The student association and I are not a match. As a new female member of Minerva, you have to parade through Leiden past men's houses, where you get everything thrown at you (from rotten eggs, the contents of a garden hose to a vocabulary that would make many a father blush). This kind of information heals and prevents me, very quickly. But the student association does intrigue me, if only out of astonishment.

Vindicat from Groningen is in trouble again, messing up due to an assault. And this while they had such a nice time on King Wim-Lex's birthday. Prince Maurits and Marilène were swaying along and singing a little tune to Hazes for their old student pub. It could have brought Vindicat a bunch of applications, but less than a week later, they help to ruin it themselves.

But what happens behind the doors of such an association? Where does the thrill of hierarchy turn into madness and... how does that happen? I studied for quite a while, had friends and vague acquaintances in student associations, so I hear things from time to time... Just sit back, read, and chuckle. Out loud.

A first-year student has to fetch beer all night, luckily for free, for the older years and can only go home when they are done drinking. Every Monday (and Tuesday and Wednesday, maybe even Friday). Really guys, in the hospitality industry, you get paid.

If you kiss in the bar room at the Amsterdam corps, you have to drink coffee cream. In the hallway, a little tongue action is allowed. In Leiden, you get crossed out. I had no idea, but that means you throw the last layer of beer over the people in question with a professional flick. Exactly.

A student association in Utrecht managed to put the new intake on a ration of Unicef bags for a whole week during initiation, until they threatened to walk out en masse.

Just to be clear: during initiation, you sometimes can't drink as a newbie. You have to endure it sober, yes. An initiation lasts easily two to five weeks, during which showering is a rare luxury and contact with home is not allowed. Oh, those poor mothers.

It's basically just land grabbing in the bar room among men. Everyone has their own little spot, after all, we are creatures of habit. But as a fraternity, you can ‘conquer’ a spot. I can imagine wanting to be closer to the bar (I would want that). They do it quite chic by pulling on each other's jackets, a bit of sumo wrestling for corps balls. Man, man, I'm getting Risk-like visions from this.

When registering, your background is checked. You have little chance if you hang out in the Dutch journalism scene. Writers, indeed. Such a shame. Even though I no longer had a chance at 31 years old. The maximum age is 21. Bummer.

Short skirts, bare shoulders, a deep neckline: not allowed. Prude that they are there. Bare women's legs can be urinated on (what?) and bare shoulders are taped up.

I discovered one good rule. White socks are forbidden, hooray. Long live the corps.

Here's another one that I find quite nice. You can't order just for yourself, you drink together.

Inauguration, covenant, mores and traditions, alto (not to be confused with the subculture), constitution... It's not trivial what words they use there. Everything, and I mean everything, sounds chic and is set in stone. They seem like knightly terms, for crying out loud. I confess: I just wrote down a few words I had forgotten. Just to occasionally catapult into our trendy writings.

Then I still have to point you to the continuation. It's coming, believe me.

Image: trailer film Feuten