Dinner of the Boar’s Head
Hey there,
Welcome back! I hope you had a great break and that this year will be full of creativity, good will, and progress, more so than the previous.
I, for one, was home in Ghana celebrating Christmas and part of the New Year with friends and family. Quite honestly, it felt great to be back for a while. Though I was in a territory considered as my own, a lot of things had changed, and in fact new things were on the move. I am talking about new music releases, movies, changes in the dynamics of domestic politics, local slangs, dance moves (the Azonto dance, to be specific), and so on. U of R students doing a study abroad in Ghana should consider learning the Azonto dance if they really would like to fit in. Apparently, the dance is well known in parts of England, and Prince William has developed a keen interest in learning it. Anyway, my break was good and I am glad to be back.
A couple of weeks prior to my departure home, I had the unique opportunity of attending the Boar’s Head Dinner here on the River Campus. This dinner, the 77th of its kind, is celebrated every year by University of Rochester faculty, students, and staff. It dates far back to 16th-century England, where an Oxford student, while walking through a bush, was attacked by a wild boar. He shoved a copy of Aristotle’s text down the throat of this boar, thereby killing it. Then he brought the head of the boar with him for dinner with his friends, who celebrated the student’s life and escape.
As you can tell, Aristotle’s text must have been too dry for the boar, right? Anyway, I loved the costumes displayed by the butlers at the dinner—not to mention those of our President (Joel Seligman), the deans, and student leaders. It was mind-blowing, fascinating, and appealing, seeing as it was my first time to witness a dinner of this sort. For a moment, it felt like I had traveled back through time to 16th-century England, where the hierarchy is relatively more visible than it is today. For a minute, I didn’t want to come back, though I was forced to when one of the butlers came by and said, “I am sorry, but there is no more apple cider.” Oh hey, in 16th-century England, I would have asked for a traditional English cider, with an alcohol content of at least 8.5%. Otherwise, I would have ordered anything other than the apple cider we know of today.
I remember one of my friends asking me, "But where is the head of the boar?" "It will come, don't worry," I responded. Though we never saw the head of the boar, the dinner ended well, seeing as some good food made up for the boar's head. The dinner was most appreciated by the seniors—whose event it was, by the way. Hopefully, I shall get the opportunity to attend this dinner again when I become a senior—somewhere in 2014.
Thanks for reading.