Dangerous Dong Hwa: How I Was Bewitched

  Visiting Dong Hwa is dangerous. If you do, you may want to stay indefinitely, or worse, become a student.

  Growing up in a suburban, sparsely populated area in South America, I knew early on that living in big cities would mean my death. I knew I wanted to see green stuff, except on my plate, and animals and streams and mountains every day. So it was hardly shocking when, after just one trip, I settled for Dong Hwa. My fate had been sealed from the start. 

  The first place that caused a deep impression in me was, surprise, surprise, the lake. A lake on a college campus! It was unthinkable to me, coming from a place where most schools are dull buildings with worn-out paint. After resisting the urge to take a swim (though I would have kept my clothes on, I was told it was forbidden), I gazed at the colorful fish coming and going under the bridge. And oh, those fish! Which, I wonder, should I have for lunch?

 

  (Note: I was also told that you may feed the fish, but not feed on them. Yes, the lake has a few rules, but hey! There are canoes.)

  After being reluctantly dragged along by a friend endowed with divine patience, I walked through the arbor beside the Engineering Building— the place where nature met humanity. I was sucked into a rabbit-hole and came out in Wonderland.

  Ah, the library! Wonderland indeed! I could wish to be buried there— six floors packed with books of all types and sizes, in over a dozen languages, and many of them with pictures. The first floor enchanted me with a special section called "Yang Mu Library". This gorgeous Japanese-style study place has become a favorite of mine, especially during agonizing finals week.

  Next I went to the library watchtower, perhaps my favorite place on campus, though admittedly I've been there only twice (the first time uninvited; the second time with dubious invitation). It is the highest point in the school, and from it you can see everything (and I mean everything)— the colleges, the mountains, the houses in the distance… It is an unforgettable view, nor least because if you're like me, at that height you feel ⅔ amazed and ⅓ terrified.

  Leaving the library, I visited the place worthy of every Instagram account: the garden at the Humanities Building. This is a scene where the greatest poets could have composed their masterpieces, and the water that flows incessantly through the rocks mirrors the vitality that runs through the whole campus. Here Wordsworth's famous maxim, "Let Nature be your teacher," could indeed be realized. At Dong Hwa we are all Her students. 

  And so I was bewitched, after one fateful trip, and here I am now, two years later. I warned you it was dangerous. I didn't choose the Dong Hwa Life; the Dong Hwa Life chose me. And—who knows?—it may choose you.