My nine-month pain in the butt
During orientation week at Melbourne Uni last July, my friend Monica and I went to a "bushdancing" event, mainly to enjoy the free food that was advertised. It turned out that most of the people there were undergrads, and we felt quite out of place as two "old" postgrad students. The event was quite cheesy, and we didn't even get our free dinner because we had to get through a lot of cheesiness before it was to be served, and we just couldn't be bothered. During the hour or so that we were there, we met Eshwan Ramudu, a first-year student from Mauritius. I must admit that I didn't even know where Mauritius was at the time. From the first moment, he proved to be quite a character, and while Monica and I jokingly made condescending remarks about feeling out of place with the "babies," he assured us that as "old" people, we were definitely out of place. He gathered that after having "collected" all my degrees (BA, MA, and now another postgrad degree from Melbourne), I must be fifty by now. Being quite cheeky myself, I liked him immediately. (My age became a recurring theme, and he later surmised that I must have been around when Mauritius's native extinct bird, the Dodo, was).
It wasn't until a few weeks later after classes had started that I ran into him again on the street, and he informed me that he had been looking for me, not an easy task at a university with over 25,000 students in just the undergrad student body alone. He wanted to transfer to a university in the U.S. and asked for my help, knowing only that that I went to Columbia (for my MA). Well, I happen to have been a college advisor, so I was happy to assist him with preparing for the SAT and the whole application process.
Nine months later, after many sessions of the mutual "torture" that generally characterizes my student-advisor relationships and after countless hours of some of the hardest, most disciplined work I have seen by a student, Eshwan learned yesterday that he was accepted for transfer into Harvard. There were over 1100 applicants for only 40 spots--that's a 3.6% acceptance rate! I am so happy for and proud of him.
Working with Eshwan has been one of the delights of my year, though I have come to affectionately call him "the biggest pain in the butt."
posted by Katherine @ 8:15 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Très chère Katheroo,
I feel really honoured by what you wrote about me. I never could expect this. Reading some parts of your account felt as good as reading the Harvard admissions letter-roo.
I wish to comment though that you have not emphasized enough the amount you helped me. Had I not met you, I never would have applied to Harvard in the first place. You have never refused to offer your advice and assistance generously, even at times when you were yourself very busy (for example, before the interview). I am so grateful to you.
What leaves me sad, however, is that we remain bitterly divided over the perception of reading. While I am rightfully convinced that reading is not sexy, you continue to hold the wrong opinion that reading is actually sexy. Reading and sexiness have nothing to do with each other.
You have to come to Mauritius one day. Those dodos which were present at the time that you were born (that was way back, as you will agree) are sadly no longer there. However, I am sure you will like to visit the great beaches and the interesting tourist attractions.
I wish to rectify one point in what you wrote. The tutorial sessionsroo we had were not characterized by "mutual" torture. It was torture in one and only one direction. I was victim of your tortuous whims. I had to do my essays so many times.
Working with you was, however, the greatest delight of my year.
Your pain-in-the-butt,
Eshwanroo
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