1. Parramatta Road: 8:58am
No matter how early I set my alarm, or no matter how many alarms I set, arriving at a 9am tutorial promptly — and by promptly, I mean just after 9:05 — is an impossible task. You would think that by fourth year, one could arrive at their desk at 8:58am equipped with a soy latte, notebook, and laptop (fully charged). You would think that by fourth year, one could arrive at 8:58am to share their thoughts about the week’s readings they definitely read and the lectures they definitely attended. You would think that by fourth year, one would not, at 8:58am, still be charging down Parramatta Road on the 413 having only just passed the green shutter windows of the Italian Forum.
Alas, here I was, a fourth year stuck on Sydney’s “varicose vein” on a sticky spring morning, late, unprepared, and craving the soy latte I did not have time to buy from Courtyard Cafe.
2. The Education Building & Smells of Sourdough
The Education Building always smells of toast. Everytime I step foot in this yellow-brick building I start salivating for some sourdough, or better yet, some of that fancy sourdough laced with olives you can buy at Panetta Mercato. Add some butter, some olive oil — sold!
I have fancy sourdough on my mind when I really should be focusing on NESA’s Stage 5 English outcomes and how these relate to assessment practices in NSW and how we need to be teaching our students how to enjoy and engage with books outside of the classroom while simultaneously ‘assessing’ them using a barcode of letters and numbers that I can tell you no in-service high school teacher even knows and did I mention that I have not yet had a coffee because my bus was running late (it was the bus and not myself, of course) and gosh, some sourdough toast from Panetta Mercato would be lovely!
Answer a question here and there. Look interested in the tutorial content. Think about that soy latte you can buy in the next hour as soon as the sea of laptop clocks strike 11:54. Marvel at how narrow our school education system is, rather like those corridors up on Level 6.
3. Courtyard coffee
The large soy latte arrives at the outdoor table and I feel calm for the first time all week. I know it will be watery but a Courtyard coffee never fails to fill me with joy. And an hour or so of energy.
There is something about Courtyard Cafe that I find distinctly ‘Sydney Uni’. Over in the corner will be a table of academics discussing their latest findings in the field of ionic liquids; near the bar will be Young Labor boys ranting about the Liberal Party; grouped together on the outdoor lounge chairs will be classmates who rant about their readings and laugh about a unit’s Canvas layout while secretly stressed about the end-of-semester portfolio assignment that no one has started.
As I sit, I am reminded of why I am still here at Sydney University. Despite the disorganised Canvas pages of many of my units, this institution has allowed me to meet so many wonderful people who I can rant to about unit readings and complain with about those Canvas pages. I stay here for these friendships. And the Courtyard coffee.
4. Fisher, Level 3
My heart belongs to Level 3 of Fisher Library. The familiar faces, the light dusting of crumbs that somehow always occupy the middle desks, the chatter of engineering students mansplaining equations — this so-called ‘Silent Section’ has become my study place for the past four years. I forget that objectively nicer places exist on campus where one can study without the crumbs.
I sit near the IT help desk with the usual Level 3 studiers and worriers, aiming to complete my ‘Unit of Work Scope and Sequence’ for an assignment before the 6:39pm 413 bus. I usually study pretty well here, although sometimes the woes of IT issue victims keeps me distracted, while also prompting a quick laptop data backup just in case.
Level 3 reminds me of my first day at university, carrying around a ginormous copy of The Iliad while trying to find a quiet place to read and write too many sticky notes about how Homer uses the “recurring symbolism of teasers to evoke the true innocence of the wartime warriors”. Level 3 is the first place I stumbled across in this library on that first day. Level 3 is the last place I would have expected to find a ‘spiritual study home’ when the Herbert Smith Freehills Law Library, with its modern architecture and lack of desk crumbs, stands right next door. Yet Level 3 is where I am.
5. The Quad: Sunset
With the impending departure of the 6:39pm 413, I exit Fisher Library and stroll towards Parramatta Road. A pink sunset is forming around The Quad, emphasising solid sandstone chimneys. Clusters of students crowd the library’s entrance, promptly adding the beautiful sunset to their #Unilife Instagram stories.
I still marvel at The Quad in all its sandstone, gothic glory. I love how you can see its turret-like structure all around the inner west, how its flag changes to mirror events taking place around town, and how it manages to sneak in a kangaroo gargoyle. And yet each time I come to The Quad to sit in its cloisters during a rainy lunchtime, I think about what this colonial edifice represents. I think about how The Quad is built over a Gadigal burial ground, how its sandstone was stolen from Traditional Owners, how little most students know about this history as they pose for a portrait underneath an archway.
Life as a USyd student is full of complexities, timetable clashes, courage to navigate Canvas pages, and cups of Courtyard coffee. We come here to gain a degree and leave either with a sense of satisfaction, fatigue, a critical awareness of the university’s position as a colonial institution, or just plain apathy. Life as a USyd student means arriving to a 9am class late and savouring a soy latte from Courtyard while embracing the moments with those people who make our everyday experiences here — those little ‘vignettes’ — worth every second.
