Every American coming-of-age movie features an actor in their late twenties pretending to be a teenager, embarking on their college journey with great enthusiasm. Their school has a mascot, a cheerleading team, and dorm rooms with bunk beds and wild parties. If this is what you are expecting, I feel obligated to tell you that Trinity Hall is the exact opposite. Composed of culchies, Brits, the estranged international student and that one guy from South Dublin who definitely doesn’t need to be there, halls more closely resembles Lord of the Flies than Love Island. 

Moving into Trinity Hall is a chaotic yet exhilarating experience. For those trying to go about their weekend during move-in day, it’s pure pandemonium. Parents and their children swarm the front gates. Once you find an abandoned shopping trolley, it’s up to your dad to figure out the most efficient way to fit all your belongings into one cart load. Then comes the trek to your new room. If you’re on the first floor, you’ll make multiple trips up and down the stairs; if you’re on a higher floor, you might wait an hour to use the elevator. Despite the challenges, watching all your fellow residents move in is thrilling. You can’t help but wonder if any of them might become your best friend, partner, or nemesis.

When you finally reach your flat, it’s just you and your dodgy key card against the world. After a few frustrating attempts, you finally get the key to work and step into a small, dimly lit hall. The smell is a mix of Febreeze and desperation, a scent familiar to all newcomers. Each room is a blank canvas: a white box with suspicious stains on the floor and peeling paintwork. If you’re lucky, your window might have a pleasant view, though mine faced the bins and so offered me a panorama of black bags. Yet , my excitement was so palpable that not even the crude sketches on my notice board (a parting gift from the previous occupant) could spoil it. I nervously took in my new home as my parents left, their car noticeably lighter minus a daughter and two tons of clothes and books. Realisations dawned when I began to unpack and question the necessity of every item I brought. Still, I take pride in knowing that someone brought three Persian rugs to halls, and it wasn’t me!

Once you’ve moved yourself in you enter into the social experiment  that is  meeting your roommates. When you first apply to halls they get you to write a little paragraph about your interests, but be under no illusion — your roommates will not be based on your supposed compatibility. The first week is a strange experience. You’re figuring out the unwritten rules: can you wear pyjamas into the kitchen? Will your roommates hear your music? How do others seem to have friends already? You quickly decipher your roommate’s personality based on whether they label all their shelves in the kitchen.  Whilst it’s easy to imagine becoming best friends, the reality is often different. You might connect well with one or two, never see some and have a personal vendetta against another. 

Living with roommates tests your patience. They might leave a week’s worth of dirty dishes in the sink, forget to close the fridge door, use the last of your milk, or decide to serenade their girlfriend at 2am (which you would really rather not listen to). Yet, there are moments when they might pleasantly surprise you—offering dinner or helping out in a pinch. Treat them like siblings rather than friends or lovers and you’ll likely make it through relatively unscathed.

If you’re moving in a little later, or still have an empty room, fear not! Here is a distilled packing list. 

1. Two weeks’ worth of clothes or however long you can last before you need to do laundry.
2. A mattress topper, because the only thing worse than a tiny bed is a tiny, uncomfortable bed.
3. A pot, a pan, maybe a knife and a fork? Though don’t be surprised if all your cutlery goes missing in the first month.
4. Decorating materials to make your cell a home! They say you can’t use Blue-tack, but it’s time to implement a little free will and start sticking stuff up. I recommend getting a proclamation from the Fianna Fáil stand at the Freshers’ Fair and putting it up on your wall, it adds a unique fenian touch.
5. If you’re in a twin room, consider some red “DO NOT TOUCH” tape to divide the space.

There are certain things you’ll quickly get used to in halls:

1. Laundry is expensive, so get your clothes dirty at your own peril.
2. You will lose your key card 37 times.
3. You’ll forget to take out the bins.
4. Your flatmates will definitely forget to take out the bins.
5. The elevator will be out of order more often than not.
6. Eating expired food will catch up with you.
7. The lift will likely take longer than the stairs.

The Junior Common Room (JCR) is a team of second-year students tasked with making first year the BEST YEAR EVER!!! Identified by their bright red jackets, they organise various events, designed to make your time in halls the most memorable and amazing of your life. The reality can be a bit different. Firstly, the canteen prinks are akin to a teenage disco. But once you ignore the warden outside and the two drink limit, you have the making of a good night out. Outside of the routine canteen prinks, the JCR have really embraced some creative events; in RaG Week we decorated waffles in the shape of genitalia (10/10 for originality  on that one). If the idea of standing in a dingy canteen with strangers listening to “all out 2010s hits” is your idea of a living hell, I would recommend at least going to the first weekend welfare breakfast. It is a good chance to grab a free croissant and meet some new people. 

Many events, like  the ‘house “wine and cheese” mixers’, can be awkward, with everyone trying to be cool , asking for Sauvignon Blanc instead of just white wine. You’ll probably encounter the classic college characters. The ones who study so much you feel like reminding them it’s only first year, and those who take the phrase “it’s only first year” a little too seriously and are on day four of their three day bender.  You’ll meet the people who already have an established influencer lifestyle going for runs in the morning while the majority are still struggling in the aftermath of  the night before, and the lads who are trying to make it through the semester on pesto pasta and instant noodles. Meeting these other people can be comforting as you realise that there isn’t one way to do first year; everyone is experiencing it for the first time. 

After the madness of Freshers’ Week, life in halls can admittedly become lonely. It’s hard not to feel isolated when you hear the party in the flat above (classic upstairs neighbour behaviour) as you are settling into the third night of Ben and Jerry’s in bed at 9pm. When it begins to feel like everyone else has already made friends, the homesickness kicks in. “Why didn’t I just stay at home and go to the near-by college like my friends?” can become  an ever-repeating thought when you’re knee deep into first year, desperately missing your family’s warm dinner and comforting hugs. But stick with it. Life in halls tends to pick up the tempo in the second semester. You stop trying to fit in with others and figure out what routine fits for you. For me, one of the unexpected joys of halls was moving flats after Christmas and making some lasting friendships with my new roommates. I remember feeling so worried about entering an already tight-knit group, but to my luck my new flat welcomed me with open arms. The week I moved in we ended up creating a meal from the communal fridge’s somewhat obscure and ageing contents. That dinner of burgers and bahn-mi was a highlight, showing me the warmth I could expect from living with people who quickly shifted from strangers to friends. 

If you’re still feeling daunted by you upcoming year in halls, here are a few tips:

1. Be kind to yourself and others. Hold the gate open for strangers and have the chats with Brian in the shop. A place starts feeling like home once you start treating it that way.  
2. Participate in events. Even if they aren’t the ones organised by the JCR and other student groups, you could try reaching out and organising a movie night or a quiet one in the pub. People usually come if it involves free food or drink. 
3. Explore your surroundings. There’s a botanical garden at the back of the halls, and the gym, despite its limited equipment and hours, is worth checking out.
4. Utilise campus facilities, like Oldham House. The communal space has a TV room, pool table and computer room with printers that all halls residents can use. 

  While Trinity Hall may seem like just a place to rest your head, it’s a microcosm of first-time experiences. It’s where you learn to live alone, make your own decisions, and discover who you are outside your old environment. You might laugh at the naivete of basing your personality on smoking cigarettes or wearing scarves, but there’s something endearing about these early attempts at self-discovery. We’re all trying to figure it out, and there’s a relief in that realisation. It’s never too late to meet new people or try something new. Not everyone gets the chance to experience the trials and tribulations of life in Trinity Hall – you should embrace it. Who knows, you might even miss it when it’s over.