The Arcadian Flavor

By Meg Costin-Shaw & Sam Voter
October 27, 2023

The kitchen is hot. The battle just rang and Arcadians are flooding in to fill their bellies. Following the masses, Meg, Sam, and Berit funnel in with giddy smiles and lots to say about the cold weather. Upon closer inspection, their attire makes it clear that they are dressed for the wrong season, wearing far too many layers. Once everyone arrives, the door gets shut, the fire stoked, and the fun begins. Eating has begun, and the trio’s outer layers begin to shed. As dinner progresses, usual debate over the temperature of the kitchen breaks out. Meanwhile, Meg, Sam, and Berit have already lost three layers of clothing and there is much more to come. People start to take notice and laughter erupts.

This is just one example of our many dinner bits that provide entertainment during mealtimes. Coincidentally, this bit happens to be a metaphor for the layers of our rich Arcadian culture. Across time, human civilizations have split, fragmented, and come together, creating the incredible diversity of culture we see in the world today. Arcadia is no different. We all arrived at St. Lawrence from different backgrounds and with an array of unique life perspectives. Then BOOM! All of a sudden we are somewhere in the woods, in a yurt village, surrounded by strangers with nothing to do. Okay, fine. We were not actually strangers, and there is lots to do, but you get the point. This is how every year of the Adirondack Semester goes. Each year develops their own unique culture, rooted in the differences of the people that comprise it. The program organizes a lot for us—classes, weekend excursions, and wilderness expeditions—but it is what we do with our free time which characterizes our culture. Now, let’s take a deep dive into the specifics of our culture to help you better understand the people who make it unique.

Weird humor is quintessential to the Arcadian experience, an example being the aforementioned dinner bits. These bits have taken the dinner table to the wild land of sock puppets, to trendy cafes, and to the shade of the almighty and all-knowing bay tree. Nate Trachte, one of our assistant directors, jokingly compares our bits to “dinner theater,” a form of high art, if you will. However, in a broader context, he mentions that our humor is “an expression of Arcadian culture” that brings together pieces of ourselves to create something unique. Interestingly enough, our isolation from pop culture has reawakened the “poopy” humor of our middle school selves that we thought we had outgrown. You cannot even sneak out a measly fart in the village without a surprise “Check ya pants!” echoing throughout the woods. Poop, farts, burps, they’re all on the table. Well, hopefully there is no poop on the table. But regardless, humor is elevated to a new level once Callie Richards-inspired accents get thrown in the mix. Filling the gaps between bits and potty mouth, we have developed numerous inside jokes such as referring to Gannett, the building across the lake where we store our bulk food and technology, as SUNY-Gannett, jokes about our program director’s goofy dog Jinora, and the paradox of wood. Free from the instant humor of the internet, we are tasked to make our own fun, and the result is a creative culture of humor unique to us.

Culture is dynamic, and the boundaries between pieces of our culture, such as humor, are often blurred. Callie, for example, combines humor with music, another integral piece of Arcadian culture. Callie wrote a song titled “Yurt Village” with free-flowing lyrics that change to depict the situation at hand. Intentional or not, this song is an important outlet that eases tension or stress in the air, quite a popular tune during community meetings. Callie, however, is not the only musically inclined Arcadian. Stepping into our kitchen, you are greeted by an array of guitars and banjos lining the wall. Jam sessions on the porch are a common occurrence, largely spearheaded by Arcadian Berit Brecke. We asked Berit about the role of music in her life and what it means now at Arcadia. She mentioned that music has been a regular thing her entire life, and creating music as a “core activity” at Arcadia has helped her transition into the semester. The only amplified music we have is that which we create. This gap left from our normal lives has bred creativity, inspiring Berit and Nate to create “Dead Creek Blues,” a parody of the old folk song “Deep Elem Blues.” The song quickly became a group favorite, and singing it to visitors is a way of welcoming them into our community. The final leg of our inaugural canoe trip, Dead Creek has tried and challenged many generations of Arcadians with its winding flow and constant wall of impenetrable alder trees—unless your name is Ben Graham, who conquers even the thickest of thickets. Putting the trials of Dead Creek into our own folk song is a way of remembering the past and connecting with future Arcadians who will have to battle its waters. This, however, is coincidental. The real reason we have this song is for the now. It is a musical expression of our creativity that connects us to each other and this special place, adding to our already vibrant culture.

Music and humor are important layers that get us closer to understanding who we are as individuals. The kitchen is getting hotter, and the layers are flying off Meg, Sam, and Berit, but let’s talk about where things really get heated: the games. Games are a crucial competitive outlet for Arcadians. At any time of the day, you will find us playing a number of different board games, most notably Catan, a game that can break your heart, make you a friend, and crush your soul in the span of one emotionally charged hour. For example, upon arriving at the community yurt to interview Arianna, we were met with tears and remorse because she had just lost a game of Catan to Cooper, her rival. We tried to question Cooper on the subject, but he transferred to SUNY-Gannett before we could reach him. Not every game of Catan is as emotionally charged as this, and it plays a big part in bringing us together, as Arcadian Ruby Bashant mentions in their interview. Games were a huge part of Ruby’s childhood, and translating this tradition to Arcadia has made it feel more like home to them. Life at Arcadia has given new meaning to the significance of interpersonal connection in the modern world. We have found that face-to-face interaction breaks down barriers faster and fosters more genuine relationships. Nothing reveals the true character of a person more than a heated game of Catan, or even cribbage. When Arianna is not losing Catan, she is often playing cribbage, a game that also reminds her of her upbringing. In true Arcadian spirit, Arianna has made her own cribbage board, representing how creative we are and the importance of games. Who knows where we would be without games. What else would we do to procrastinate on our English essays? Jokes aside, Arcadians can agree that the games we play bring us closer together. It is incredible how well you get to know somebody without a screen between you. Interestingly enough, these games have created our own history. Sometimes it may sound like we are recounting old war stories, most notably Campbell Jenkins’s infamous decision to hand all of her properties over to Darlenne at the conclusion of a heated Monopoly game. Campbell admits that this game has become somewhat of “a legend or a tragedy, depending on which side you’re on,” demonstrating both the weight these games have and their historic significance. Strong culture relies on strong community, and games are something that we can all bond over.

Speaking of stories, our culture has adapted to the colder weather, an example of such being nightly read-alouds. The cozy woodstoves have bred a culture of their own as we huddle around and take turns reading The Hunger Games out loud. Starting with only a few of us, read-alouds soon became community events, especially as Katniss and Peeta’s romance got spicy. Arcadian Amelia Berthold mentions in an interview that read-alouds provide a good substitute to the audiobooks and podcasts we have left behind. The gray skies and frigid weather brought by the coming of winter make maintaining morale even more important. We look forward to reading the next chapter each night with the promise of collective transportation into a fantasy world. Cheeks red from the warmth of the fire and the sound of light snoring (unless you snore like Cooper) signal that it is time for bed. Already comfortable in our sleeping bags, most Arcadians choose to retire for the night in the Community Yurt where read-alouds are held. Our personal yurts have no source of heat, so we often migrate at night to community spaces with woodstoves and friends. We look forward to these sleepovers, and Abhainn Bajus often hops around the village, gauging interest in a communal sleep. Abhainn says that these sleepovers “bring us together” and foster a sense of love and belonging. Midnight conversations provide a safe space for vulnerability and more intimate connections, “family vibes,” as Abhainn puts it. Sauna conversations are equally significant, according to hot sauna expert Ben Graham.

As the sauna burns our butts, the kitchen burns everything else, so let’s talk about food. Believe it or not, this group of twelve random college kids can cook pretty well. Cooking is a pillar of life in the village. Arcadians are paired up and have weekly cooking shifts where their culinary creativity can flourish. Similar to read-alouds, sleepovers, and saunas, good food is paramount in maintaining morale as winter approaches. “Food doesn’t just feed the stomach, it feeds the soul,” Darlenne Cazarin comments. Each of us bring different recipes and knowledge to this space, and the meals we make are a reflection of our life experience. Compared to life back on campus, we are uniquely affected by the environment, which in turn influences our day-to-day activities. Cold weather informs our culture and nods to the importance of community and the activities we do to maintain it.

Now back to the metaphor from the beginning. Meg, Sam, and Berit have reached the bottom layer. No one is laughing anymore, and it’s clear we stretched this bit a little too far, just like this metaphor. Anyway, understanding the specifics of our culture helps to reveal who we Arcadians are. We all bring little bits and pieces of our lived experience to this space while carrying intention. This opens us up to reveal our truest selves and to embrace our differences, creating the vibrant community that we are: a community of creativity, family humor, and muddy feet.

Just for fun, we decided to ask a few Arcadians what they think the flavor of our culture is. Ben thinks this place has “wicked flavah,” and Campbell agrees, for “variety is the spice of life.” Cooper answered along a similar vein of taste, stating that it is “spaghetti squash with a lot of butter and salt, but in a good way, not too much.” All of these define our flavor, and Nate summarized it well in saying that the Arcadian flavor is “butter rich soul food, B.O., earthy tones, and magical fairy woods gnomes.”