Of course, I was dismayed when I checked in at the front desk and the receptionist immediately asked, “Aren’t you a student?”
“Yes,” I replied quite meekly, and sat beside a mother-daughter pair.
The receptionist sent our group of about ten people outside. The parents were atwitter with excitement, as the high schoolers and transfers were either too bored to move their mouths or too nervous to speak. The two transfers, two twenty something men, hung towards the back of the pack, and most obviously wanted this tour to be done quickly. The younger students clung to their parents like they were security blankets.
I firmly believe that the majority of the questions asked during the campus tour were merely posed so that parents’ could show off their kids’ intelligence. One father, whom I will call “USC Father,” immediately asked our tour guide, Ty, why his son should choose UCSB over USC.
After all, USC Father said, “My son got into USC.”
Then another parent, “UCSD Mother,” chimed in, “My daughter got into UCSD. Why should she choose UCSB?”
“Ah yes,” I thought to myself. “The tour hasn’t even begun. Lucky me.”
Our first stop: A view of the
My entire group stared at the gym, bored, as Ty interrupted himself every twenty or so seconds with “I work at the Rec. Cen. ,” “I love the Rec. Cen.,” and adoringly “Look at the grass at the Rec. Cen. It’s water resistant. All weather.”
You’d think he expected “oohhs” and “aahhs” from the crowd, so I kind of felt bad for the guy.
“Any questions?” Ty asked, with the kind of excitement which is meant to conceal “Please, don’t ask questions.”
Another father, whom I shall call “Sergeant Father,” (he looked like he belonged in the military…arms crossed, no smile, and a buzz cut to boot) posed an observation: “There seem to be a lot of bike paths. Do a lot of people use bikes here?”
“Yes, but I’ll talk about that later,” Ty responded, because I am sure Sergeant Father was on pins and needles waiting for the answer.
Next stop: The bus stop. I didn’t learn anything new about the bus stop, except that it could be talked about for seven minutes.
Once again, Ty asked, “Any questions?”
Silence.
As Ty backed away from the bus stop, walking backwards in his flip flops, he lost a “flop.”
“It’s hard to walk backwards in sandals,” explained Ty, leaning to retrieve his footwear.
“It must be,” said UCSD Mother.
While we continued on our way, it was obvious that UCSD Mother was trying to become “buddy-buddy” with Ty, as she walked in front of the other tour members and beside him.
“How often does it rain in
“Hardly ever. It like rained once last year,” said Ty.
“That explains the dry weather,” said UCSD Mother.
Our group stopped in front of Cheadle Hall. Ty talked about huge lecture halls, and how the majority of students will rely on counselors at Cheadle Hall to get by at UCSB, unless you are one of the few at
One prospective student asked the very question that was on my mind – “What is the
Excited for an answer, I turned towards Ty.
“Uh, we’ll talk about it later.”
Pissed and expecting that he obviously had no clue what the College of Creative Studies was, we moved on to the quad area by Ellison Hall, then filed past the Davidson Library.
“We have two libraries on campus,” Ty said.
“Where’s the other library?” UCSD Mother asked.
“It’s the music and arts library, but nobody really uses it,” Ty responded.
Ty rambled statistics about the library, and a bunch of numbers. The 24 hour study room is open for 24 hours, there are seven floors in the library, it houses 8 million books, twenty four million if you count interlibrary loan, etc.
At last, we crossed the bike path that would soon lead us to the
UCSD Mother commented, “There don’t seem to be a lot of students outside.”
Ty said, “That’s because there’s a lot of students in classes right now. In an hour, you’ll see a lot of people outside.”
UCSD Mother grimaced, her suspicion obvious, “There are very few people outside.”
We came to the
Unfortunately (well, I guess fortunately) Ty was basically a poster child for CCS. He dubbed it “the graduate school for undergraduates,” saying it was a “unique” (take that word for what you will) experience. Ty also proceeded to say that it was a very competitive school to get into, only accepting 100 out of every 900 applicants (a statistic I would like to get confirmed…when Ty earlier said that it only rains once a year in Santa Barbara, that the dining commons food was “awesome,” and that Manzanita Village was built only four years ago, I knew I had some fact checking to do).
“Any questions?” Ty asked after he finished his CCS and housing spiel.
Pause.
“What are the bathrooms like in dorms?” someone asked.
The highlight of my hour and fifteen minute experience had to be the wrap-up at the end. As we weaved through the UCEN, the son of USC Father snuck up to Ty and whispered, “Is there a Weed Co-op in IV?”
“No,” Ty said. “There might be one in
I believe this was a blatant lie on Ty’s part to preserve the reputation of our school, but I commend him for that.
As we neared the tour’s end, USC Father asked for directions to the nearest IV party.
“Are there any alternatives to the party scene?” asked UCSD Mother.
“Yes,” answered Ty, pointing to an Improvability sign. “Like Improvability. And movies.”
UCSD Mother nodded blankly.
“No one has asked me the question I get asked the most,” informed Ty, preparing for a blaze of glory, “And I’ll tell you what that question is. People ask me why I chose UCSB. And I’ll tell you…” he paused, preparing for his dénouement, “…It was my last choice.”
Though he tried to justify this statement by saying how much he enjoyed UCSB now, it still was a letdown.
A mother and daughter who had not spoken during the tour approached Ty, the mother practically pushing the girl forward.
“Go ahead,” Pushy Mother said, “ask your question.”
Then, UCSD Mother asked why she should choose UCSB over UCSD.
Then, USC Father asked why his son should choose UCSB over USC.
Then, I asked myself “Why,” and afterwards kicked myself for asking another question.
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