Issue: Fall Classes 2001 Has Started!
Today, the fall session has begun. All around the campus area, I see legions of freshman walking about aimlessly, with the U map in their wet hands, wandering in huge circles to find their classrooms. They carry on their fragile shoulder the bulkiest textbooks, stacked inside the biggest, blackest backpacks, like some lost Europeans hiking in the wilderness of Central Amazon. This morning, I woke up at five and ate last night’s leftovers as my early breakfast. Then, I took the coldest shower and headed for my workplace at six in the morning. The road was empty and the sky was almost as black as a winter midnight. I did my job for 2 hours and told Rob the supervisor that the Central Stairways’ 1st floor door was jammed. It couldn’t be opened from the inside. As soon as I finished stocking the 3rd floor’s men’s room, I punched out my work card and jogged to my first classroom of the day, or more accurately, of the fall session.

Issue: First Day in School.
It felt so strange to go back to the student mode once more. After spending 3 months of summer doing nothing but being your true self, the sight of me with my dirty bag on the reflected image on the glass door was almost as alien as looking at a stranger. I arrived 5 minutes earlier then the time the class should start and sat at the farthest seat from the white board. I killed the poor 5 minutes by reading the thick edition of the MN Daily slowly but loudly and with concentration, which I seldom do. Ten minutes passed eight and still the Teaching Assistant for that class, a Transport Phenomenon discussion class, has yet to put his butt on the TA’s chair. "Damn it, am I in the wrong classroom?" I walked towards the door to see what the room’s number is and was stopped by an incoming white male student, trying to get in while this brownish and Chinese-looking student – that’s me – was looking at the plate on the door. He smiled and I asked him what class is he in and he said the name of my class – our class. "We are the only 2 people here right now. Are you sure about the class’ room number?" "Yeah, pretty sure. Amundson Hall 162, correct?"

Issue: A New Friend.
Then, another white male student came by, this time running from the other side of the long hallway. He looked like he just got up from bed, his hair all messed up and his purple shirt was tucked inside his jeans in a very chaotic fashion. As soon as he reached the two of us, standing under the door, looking really confused, he pointed his still shaking index finger to the glass door. "There is a notice on the door." We ran to the glass door and saw an A4 piece of white paper glued to it, with black texts written in Helvetica fonts. Attention to ChEn 4501 students, Fall Session 2001, Tuesday’s discussion class is canceled. "Fuck it. I could have slept through, until eleven o’clock, man, my Thermodynamics class." "Great, just great, what a way to start a new session." "Anyway, my name is Mohamad." I only use the name ‘Lalat’ among Malaysians and whenever an American asks me for my name or what to call me by, informally, I just say ‘Mohamad’, because, well, to them, ‘Mohamad’ is phonetically less of a challenge on the tongue than ‘Lalat’ or ‘Faizal’. "I am Derrick." "Nice to meet you, man." "You too."

Issue: Steve Jobs is My Hero.
Since there is no class until some time around eleven o’clock, I headed towards the nearest U computer lab and saw the longest queue ever. Most of them are last minute freshmen, in line to login to use the computer to register for classes. I looked inside the lab room and saw that only the PC stations are packed with users; the Mac stations are barely touched by anyone. "These people are Bill Gates’ suck-ups, I presume." I waited in line for a few minutes and logged in and sat comfortably in the middle of the Mac area, just right below the air conditioning. While everybody else is waiting for the PC stations to be vacant, I was already signing out of my email account and reading the online newspaper’s article. Such is the leisure of knowing how to utilize a Mac! I saw a few Malaysian freshmen queuing in line, faithfully waiting, hoping to use the PCs, but I ignored them badly. I know that they have spotted me in the lab and that they know that I am also a Malaysian, and being their senior, but I was not in the mood to talk to anybody in Malay that morning. Maybe some time near noon, when I am a bit tired and crappy as I walk home for lunch. The conversation between us – juniors and senior - then would be more interesting and lively. Don’t you think so?