By Annie Thomas
Some call the famous Erasmus student exchange program ‘Orgasmus’. No need for a big explanation I guess… If Erasmus is not only about sex and parties, they certainly amount for a great deal of it! Only the most introverted and the deadly serious ones will not have enjoyed some kind of transcultural physical acquaintance during their exchange.
I don’t know who coined the term, but I think it’s brilliant! For some, when they say: “Hey, I’m going on Erasmus! It’s going to be great!” what they mean is “I’m going to learn a new language, see a different academic system and meet wonderful people from all over the world!”, I’m not saying this statement is a lie, but for some this might be only half of the truth. Let me explain myself here. For others, when they happily announce that they’re going on Erasmus, what they really mean is: “Hey, I’m going on Erasmus and I’m going to party like an animal, hook up with every local (or non local) and taste every beer that the city has to offer”. Reader, I am sorry if you’re a mom or a dad with a kid on Erasmus (you might not want to keep reading), but this is probably what your son or daughter will be doing in the following months.
All those hottie Swedish snygging, those irresistible Mediterranean suntanned Italian ragazzos, all the classy French femme fatale (oh là là), the Iberian Spanish machos, the freckled cutie British men… Let’s admit it, we all want a piece of it.
We turn into predators ready to hunt our next prey (or at least trying to catch the fish of the day). Or maybe we don’t make any effort, can’t be bothered, and might as well just become the prey. All those hottie Swedish snygging, those irresistible Mediterranean suntanned Italian ragazzos, all the classy French femme fatale (oh là là), the Iberian Spanish machos, the freckled cutie British men… Let’s admit it, we all want a piece of it. And we finally have our chance to indulge in our darkest fantasies. But hey, isn’t this a good form of European and international integration?
Some suitcases may be packed with clothes, books and other personal items, but many others will probably include a pack of condoms, pills to fight morning hangovers and a bottle or two of our favourite liquor purchased at the airport duty-free.
During these infamous Erasmus days we will witness morning walk of shames (or experience one or two of them in our own flesh), we might wake up with a stranger next to us, decide not to go to class because we are way too hungover to get out of bed or become loyal customers to the fast food restaurants we have nearby.
Erasmus = sex, alcohol and rock and roll
I’m pretty sure that you understand the connotation of the word by now. For many, Erasmus is an opportunity to free the tiger we have inside. Erasmus = sex, alcohol and rock and roll. Because if you don’t hook up with anybody it’s because you either don’t want to or you’re too shy to try.
And when we come back home, we might have gained some kilos, struggled during finals and roughly managed to get a “pass” in our grades and brought back some photos that we don’t want our parents to see. But no one could ever erase the memories of those crazy nights under the flickering lights of the endless list of nightclubs we’ve partied at. That is of course unless the level of Jägermeister in your blood was higher than your body could handle, which probably means that you have a couple of “memorable” nights you’d hardly remember if it weren’t for the photos on Facebook (you’ve begged your Erasmus friends to take down a couple of times).
