On Friday, October 26th, 8th Dimension held its annual Barclay Haunted House. Staff member Mitra Eghbal shares her thoughts:
The tortuous halls of Gummere might be riot-proof, and I maintain that Magill Library is the best building to survive a siege from a hostile neighboring kingdom, but Barclay is definitely the perfect place for a haunted house, as evidenced last Friday. Families from Haverford and surrounding neighborhoods can support this assertion.
By daylight Barclay looks innocuous enough; by night, those huge arching doorways make it look rather forbidding from the outside. Especially when it so happens that everyone in the dormitory has switched off their lights. Add to that a heavy rainstorm and we were all set.
Dante’s hell had nine levels; Barclay Haunted House is populated by just the sinners-in-training, so it has only four levels. But perhaps orange-and-black crepe paper streamers and plastic spiders were enough to tantalize the visiting children into a lifetime of evil. We can only hope. We can only hope that Beatrice is as benevolent as a tired, rain-drenched parent holding on to their child’s wooden sword as they are dragged by their offspring back into the haunted house for a third go-around.
The denizens of Barclay generously loaned us their home for a whole evening, and they decorated it, to boot. Though it must be said that the 8D staff members nearly had a heart attack when we saw that one hall had absolutely no decorations up fifteen minutes prior to the start of the event. When I came back later, the lights were all out and the residents of the hall were popping out of their rooms and shrieking at the kids. The Customs Person walked up to me and enthusiastically bellowed in my face until he realized I was not a five-year-old, then explained that they didn’t decorate the hall because you couldn’t see the decorations in the dark, anyway. I was initially skeptical, but in retrospect I must concede to its effectiveness, as I think this was the only hall the year that actually made a child cry. (Should causing children to cry make a hall successful or not? You decide.)
Whenever a howling ghost materialized in front of a kid, they would invariably ball up their fists, look the monster in the eye--chin quivering just a bit--and exclaim, “I’m…not… AFRAID OF YOU!” That is a great tactic and I want to try it out next time someone is intimidating me. Overall the kids held up pretty well… really, seeing the children in the clutches of demons worried me less than seeing the children attempt to fit entire popcorn balls into their mouths at the refreshment table in the “exorcized sanctuary” (Barclay lounge, our safe zone).
One sophomore resident of Barclay, replete with candy corn and face smeared with ghoulishly green paint, declared that it was nice to have an excuse to celebrate Halloween the way he used to as a kid. For me, though, the Haunted House wasn’t so much about regression as it was about accomplishment. I rejoice, for I have finally fulfilled my dream of commanding of a horde of zombies.
The tortuous halls of Gummere might be riot-proof, and I maintain that Magill Library is the best building to survive a siege from a hostile neighboring kingdom, but Barclay is definitely the perfect place for a haunted house, as evidenced last Friday. Families from Haverford and surrounding neighborhoods can support this assertion.
By daylight Barclay looks innocuous enough; by night, those huge arching doorways make it look rather forbidding from the outside. Especially when it so happens that everyone in the dormitory has switched off their lights. Add to that a heavy rainstorm and we were all set.
Dante’s hell had nine levels; Barclay Haunted House is populated by just the sinners-in-training, so it has only four levels. But perhaps orange-and-black crepe paper streamers and plastic spiders were enough to tantalize the visiting children into a lifetime of evil. We can only hope. We can only hope that Beatrice is as benevolent as a tired, rain-drenched parent holding on to their child’s wooden sword as they are dragged by their offspring back into the haunted house for a third go-around.
The denizens of Barclay generously loaned us their home for a whole evening, and they decorated it, to boot. Though it must be said that the 8D staff members nearly had a heart attack when we saw that one hall had absolutely no decorations up fifteen minutes prior to the start of the event. When I came back later, the lights were all out and the residents of the hall were popping out of their rooms and shrieking at the kids. The Customs Person walked up to me and enthusiastically bellowed in my face until he realized I was not a five-year-old, then explained that they didn’t decorate the hall because you couldn’t see the decorations in the dark, anyway. I was initially skeptical, but in retrospect I must concede to its effectiveness, as I think this was the only hall the year that actually made a child cry. (Should causing children to cry make a hall successful or not? You decide.)
Whenever a howling ghost materialized in front of a kid, they would invariably ball up their fists, look the monster in the eye--chin quivering just a bit--and exclaim, “I’m…not… AFRAID OF YOU!” That is a great tactic and I want to try it out next time someone is intimidating me. Overall the kids held up pretty well… really, seeing the children in the clutches of demons worried me less than seeing the children attempt to fit entire popcorn balls into their mouths at the refreshment table in the “exorcized sanctuary” (Barclay lounge, our safe zone).
One sophomore resident of Barclay, replete with candy corn and face smeared with ghoulishly green paint, declared that it was nice to have an excuse to celebrate Halloween the way he used to as a kid. For me, though, the Haunted House wasn’t so much about regression as it was about accomplishment. I rejoice, for I have finally fulfilled my dream of commanding of a horde of zombies.
No comments:
Post a Comment