The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, April 07, 1978, Page page 4, Image 4

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    friday, april 7, 1978
page 4
daily nebraskan
(
Transfer diners make housing bills hard to swallow
A problem that hits a lot of stu
dents where it counts - the stom
ach - is facing housing officials as
well as residence hall diners.
According to Housing Director
Doug Zatechka, the hordes of hun
gry students flocking to the East
Campus Union to enjoy dinner
courtesy of their Validine cards have
created such a surplus that a remedy
must be reached soon, or housing
rates will take another spiral.
Zatechka and his staff are seeking
student help in their search for the
least costly, most palatable solution
to this problem.
There are several alternatives,
among them limiting the number of
transfers from city campus residence
halls, imposing a surcharge for city
campus diners eating at the East
Union and allowing no transfers to
those students whose class schedules
make it impossible to get back to
city campus in time for dinner.
All of these alternatives, as Za
techka said, are cosmetic.
We agree with his observation and
urge housing to seek a long-range sol
ution that will remove the root of
the problem - the fact that many
students prefer the food, atmosphere
and service found at the East Cam
pus Union to that of their own city
campus dining rooms. Such a solu
tion, ideally, would bring city cam
pus dining room standards up to par
with those set out on East Campus.
Zatechka said that union person
nel - who staff the East Campus din
ing room - have been conferring
with meal planners from the city
halls to make menus more compati
ble. Wonderful idea, and rather simple
to achieve when you consider that
both food services, although run by
different university departments, use
the same food and similar menus.
Such an improvement should be low
cost, or even better, no cost.
Also, plans to improve the city
campus dining rooms have been on
housing's agenda and are being plug
ged away at, slowly but surely.
Whatever, solution housing devises
(and it should be soon, as Zatechka
says he does not want to change any
policy without students around to
give input,) it is necessary that resi
dence hall diners are not denied the
privilege of transferring meals to the
dining hall of their choice.
However, in face of budget exces
ses that are hitting the $20,000
mark, it is also necessary that stu
dents realize they may have to make
some sacrifices or pay out more for
housing rates.
A solution allowing only a speci
fied number of transfers at the East
Campus Union each night seems the
most agreeable at this time.
Students still would have their
right to eat at East Campus, but
after a certain amount have come
through the line, no further trans
fers would be admitted.
Sure, this is not going to accomo
date every student, but at least la
bor costs would be kept stable and
the East Campus dining room would
not turn into a cattle feed line.
With such a solution - if housing
runs their business correctly - food
service would be a constant-cost bud
get item, and hopefully not a ration
ale for possible housing increases.
City
GOTPUS
1 1 . III II I
r. . ,,,
Tanningoil wafts through air, intoxicates annual ogler
The sound of stifled choking greeted me
on one of my rare returns to the residence
hall. Investigating, I found the source in
the Neihardt sun room.
Swinehart, an old friend now in his
sixth year of residence hall life, stood with
his nose pressed against the window look
ing onto the courtyard. He was drooling,
gasping for breath, and choking on his
drool. I grabbed his trembling shoulder.
walde
3
"Demon be gone!" I cried, whirling him
around. It took a few moments for his eyes
to focus and his hands to stop shaking.
Then his composure returned quickly.
"Thanks," he said as he wiped a dab of
foam from his mouth. "I needed that. It
was the suntan lotion. The smell put me in
a trance. The last I remember before this
was leaning over to check my mailbox."
At that, his eyes glazed over again and
he bagan to pivot mechanically toward the
window. I seized him and dragged him into
a windowless hallway.
"Snap out of it," I barked.
"What can I do?" he pleaded. "They are
always there . . . Sunup to sundown . . .
Angels of mercy, angels of death. Sirens
who sing to tunes played with Coppertone
bottles. 'This peeping Tom needs a peep
hole. And an up-tempo song. To move
me along.' "
"Can the Tom Waits, you're drunk on
the sun."
'The browness of your body in the fire
glow Except the places where the sun refused
to go
Our bodies were a perfect fit, in after
glow we lay.
My lady of the island. "
"Who did that one?" I asked
"Graham Nash."
"I guess you're improving, at least. You
used to gawk out the window all day and
just breathe heavy. Now you recite
poetry."
"That's what six years of college do for
you," Swinehart said. "You're still a
lecher, but you're an intelligent lecher."
"Swinehart, you've been ogling nearly
nude numphs since we were freshmen.
Haven't you had your fill of it?"
"Not really. The bodies change every
spring. There was one last year who fell
asleep before lunch and didn't wake up
until supper. She was burnt so she couldn't
move for days."
"Ouch!"
"And it's always fun to study the soci-
Language a big barrier for foreign students
This is an international student column
about the trials and tribulations of being a
foreigner at UNL.
Submit essays to the Daily Nebraskan
office, 34 Nebraska Union, or by calling
the office at 472-258$ and asking for the
editor. Like all other opinions, die Daily
Nebraskan reserves the right to edit them
for space and style.
The author of this column is a sopho
more architecture student from Iran. He
has asked to remain anonymous.
On my arrival at UNL, 1 was to take a
language placement exam. I stopped the
first person I saw, who was a beautiful girl,
and began asking in my not-so-perfect
English, the direction of Andrews Hall
I tried to say everything correctly and
with an American accent. She could not
understand my pronunciation as her
redundant reply was as if to a deaf person.
She was actually shouting!
Being a foreigner is a very sad story
which few can experience. When a foreign
er comes to a country that has a very
different language, he is lost and has to
start again like a baby to learn a new
language and new customs, hating what
Americans hate and liking what Americans
like so that he . ' . better, not hitting
the wall in his frustration and ruining his
hand.
Just imagine if you are thirsty, but do
not know the word; the same if you are
hungry. You are dead to the society if you
do not know their language. When a
foreigner asks for a sentence to be repeat
ed, most Americans think, "Why brother?"
and they do not.
A foreigner loses many things, most of
his habits and his character. For a period of
time he is nobody because he should
decide who he wants to be -serious, a
humorist and so on.
After a few months, in which he has
suffered while surviving the basic problems,
he reaches the door into the new society
and needs encouragement to go in. No one
invites him so he must go in by himself and
make room for himself.
Many foreign students begin (studying
in America) but return home because they
think it is not worth the effort.
Maybe they are right, but maybe they
have no courage to face a life that will be
hard yet fretful.
When I sit alone and see others talking
or walking in couples, I suddenly realize
that I am human, too, and need company.
I had almost forgotten my need of th-se
friend1.
I have ny friends and my parents at
home, and I want to go home for weekend
to visit them. It is painful to remember so
I try to forget.
Even though I have a new life with new
success, I remember all these people and
that is why I get homesick.
As a foreigner, I cannot help this feeling
because in the beginning I thought the only
barrier was not knowing the English
language, but being removed from my
friends and family is another.
Sometimes I experience severe depres
sion and shock. I look around and find no
soul to tell my problems to. or if I can find
someone, I wonder if he or she can truly
feel my sadness.
I can try to hide myself in my room,
but my shelves are lined with books that
are math, chemistry, and economics. What
happened to my books on philosophy,
history and literature in my own language?
People assume that I do not know an
of those things because I cannot speak
perfect English. My room gets smaller and
smaller and the walls close in on me
I shout not for people to help me. but
I ask God for comfort beca-ise the problem
is beyond people's help
I shout hut no sound comes out
ology of sunbathing. It starts with one
undoing her strap; that gives other sun
bathers the idea. By April it's an institut
ion. "It seems that one bare back is about
like any other."
"Sure. But what if one were to turn
over? Imagine the implications."
"It will never happen."
"There is always that chance," Swine
hart said.
"What about Cindy what's-her-name a
few years ago who used to sunbathe nude
on the sun roof?"
"She weighed at least 250 pounds. And
the Housing office locked the door to the
roof so she wouldn't cave it in."
"Still, it's nice to think about."
"Your pigism is showing," I reproached.
"How so?"
"Every sunny day every spring you
stand at a window and watch scantily clad
post -pubescent females spend all day all
spring wrinkling their skin. It's like a starv
ing man staring at raw meat in a butcher
shop. And you haven't passed a second
semester class in six years."
He thought for a moment.
"There is a difference between sex and
sexism," he said. "I can have sexual
fantasies from behind a window without
them knowing that I'm there. Of course I
see them as sex objects, as long as they're
out on the grass and I'm in here. But it's
different when they come in and we meet
in the hall. Then I'm talking as one person
to another. Not sex fiend to sex object. I
keep the ogling on a higher, purely
aesthetic plane."
He paused while I eyed htm in dis
belief. "It's just a matter of keeping in
mind the distinction between hormones
and human beings," he continued.
"My hormones are excited. They like
nice-looking bodies. But the human in me
knows that sex and appearance are only
small parts of a person's identity. So lean
feel good about gawking because I respect
the person inside the bikini."
"Well, I still think it's sexist," I said
"How would you feel if you were sunbath
ing and a bunch of girls were staring out
the window r'
"Moot point." he said over his shoulder
on his way back to the courtyard window
"I never lay out for a tan. What a waste of
time'"