Welcome to Concordia
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O, you fresh-faced ones, you newborn babes of university students. You, plucked still wet from the womb of high school; you, led straight out the daycare of cegep. Young or old, university makes uncertain, fumbling toddlers of us all.
We will all end up looking for a class in the wrong building, on the wrong floor, down the wrong hallway, in the wrong room. We will all be shy around the legions of our new classmates; we will all be tentative as we explore new neighbourhoods, as we order coffees and sandwiches in unexplored cafés. We will all find ourselves pressed up against the bureaucracy of student life far too brusquely. But we will press on.
In this special pullout issue of The Link, you will find the secrets to your survival. Within them we impart to you our wisdom of ages.
Whether you’re a lifelong montrealer or still wrapping your mouth around that most necessary of incantations—“merci”—there’s a perfect, unique truth for every student buried within our orientation issue. even you haughty second – and – third – years would do well to skim through these next few pages, lest your pride be the source of your end.
We’ve compiled a testament of the best places to party, the holiest joints to find greasy eats at 3 a.m., the most sublime punk clubs to see the holy spirit spit flames into a microphone. we’ve drawn for you the path to university salvation.
For those that seek to get their groove on, look ye hither.
For those of you who hail from moose jaw, from palookaville, from nowhereland, look ye hither to learn what a real nightlife is like.
For those sporting ones eager to baptize themselves in the blessed shades, maroon & gold, and devote their mortal lives to Saint Concordia and her bumbling beeservant, buzz, bow thee down before thy sanctity hither.
By the time October gets here—and trust me: you will feel its breath on the back of your necks far sooner than you think— the pious among you first-years will seem just as accomplished as the hardened fourth-year veterans, their faces tough and leathery, eroded by the semesters of stress, the tug and pull of the manic mid-term midnights.
Until then, though—welcome to Concordia. we remember what it was like when we stood where you stand now, on the brink of a great precipice, all wrinkled and new, the wind in our ears. This issue is for you.
View The Link’s Orientation Map in a larger map
