College Life in Libya ~ Part VI

By Nuha Dadesh

Fluctuations.  

The ides of march rolled around once again in my life, and it also happened to be the ''ides'' of my college journey.

Flashbacks would remind me of how my beautiful campus was once eerie and formidable. I was new; everything around me was new. Nevertheless, day by day, it began transforming into a familiar, nostalgic haven! I started to blend in. I befriended many who allowed me to balance between my Libyan and Americanized selves. I learned about drugs and everything related to them, and in the processes of memorizing and comprehending, I was always astonished by the workings of the human brain. I've come to know that the brain changes its structure every time we learn something new, and I'm not figuratively speaking when I say this: I felt mine alter. Therefore, it penetrated my likings and became the dominant one. 

During one of my Physiology lectures, Dr.Feras reckoned, "the third year is what we call the 'neck of the bottle', and passing it means passing pharmacy school!"- which instantly prompted a prospect drawn in the back of my mind. 

There I was, walking down the corridors of my faculty- each triggering thoughts of the countless memories made-on yet another first day. The struggle of squeezing through the "neck of the bottle" approached, and I was ready for it with all the faith in the world in Allah (SWT). The lectures were light and simple. Not so complicated. 

The following weeks consisted of further lectures and labs. The lectures were dull just like the auditorium in which they were held. My Pharmaceutical Technology lecturer allowed a five-minute break during her second lecture, and I ended up extending that break to the end of the semester. There were slides on the projector screen, and a number of the lecturers were reading them out loud for us without any enthusiasm whatsoever. 

A few of the lecturers, however, actually tried to add some zest into the curriculum by cracking jokes. Dr.Eluzi made us laugh during his two-hour lecture, but his humor was the Libyan kind: dark humor.  It stung me every time I heard, "But not in Libya!", which became a suffix to most sentences that mentioned advancements in our field. 

It was depressing. A lot of things were depressing. 

Depression was overtly sweeping the country, and there was little effort left for resisting it. Moreover, people have been through so much humiliation and downgrading. The situation gets worse before it gets a bit better, then less worse, and right back to so much worse than expected. The vicious cycle of our lives here in Libya. 

There's also the denial that's always simultaneously present that allows for fake smiles and laughs, which daunt the creeping sadness. 

One can't be insentient towards such a sensible reality. In addition, the inflation caused the prices of the sheets to rise noticeably! The prices of everything rose noticeably. Consequently, the needed medications and instruments in the labs weren't always available so we had to compensate one way or another. The unpredictability of all matters itself was depressing. 

But, we didn't have time for depression nor for feelings to ponder at; we had to study and study so we can get the unforgiving amount of information crammed into our subservient brains. 

Once we take our first quiz of the semester, we don't really get a break from being tested till we dreadfully take our final final exam. The domino effect. And we really do feel like we're dominoes falling down uncontrollably. Again, I wasn't figuratively speaking when I said that. 

The exams were NOT simple. The subjects weren't simple. Each one of them needed willpower to study and lots of assistance from CNS stimulants to get memorized. ( No, not amphetamines! I meant coffee and tea.) 

The exam hall was originally set up as a cafeteria but never got to being one for God knows what reason. I've ascended the stairs that led up to the aforementioned hall countless times, thus it lost its frightfulness.

Unlike the testing hall, the Montada was a place I felt comfortable in. Regardless of its paleness and cluttered brownish tables and swirly chairs, it was a place to hang out in after a long lab or a tedious lecture. Unfortunately, we were barred from it for most of this semester due to its utilization as another testing hall! Also, there were sudden security measures taken to protect the university so there were checkpoints at entrances, and since our faculty's security guards weren't available, they locked the gate that connected us with the adjacent Medicine department, which we went to regularly because it had what our faculty lacked: cafeterias and a library. There was another route that led to the Medicine department, but it was the equivalent of a walk through the desert, and we'd end up with an enormous headache by the time we got there and back to our faculty. Hence, we were like refugees in our own place. 

Maram, Farah, and I's refuge was under the shadows of a huge tree centered in the middle of the pretty grass area. We did everything under that tree. We reviewed whatever we could before an imminent exam. We ate there and had many of our endless hysterical euphoria! We talked and worked on our lab reports. In addition to memories made that are forever engraved in my mind, Maram and I even cried under that tree when I finally worked up the courage to ask her about the passing of her beloved brother and she told me, in explicit detail, about the event that changed her life forever. I even made a new friend in that area which everyone got accustomed to calling "the pharmacy cat." But I believed she deserved a better name so I started calling her "Serotonin" because she was my personal antidepressant. Her nickname was "5-HT."

The holy month of Ramadan commenced halfway through the mundane semester. Ramadan had a way of making itself prominent, thus the vibes at the faculty changed almost instantly. Firstly, the hallways were fairly empty since it was difficult to roam the hallways idly while abstaining from foods and drinks. The ones who showed up were there because they needed to be there. The ladies that managed to show up tended to wear more religious and modest clothing. And their chatting became about cooking malfunctions and triumphs while sharing recipes. Furthermore, the desire to achieve both academic and religious goals was somewhat stressful, but verses from the Quran always left me calmer and assured:" We have not sent down to you the Qur'an that you be distressed. But only as a reminder for those who fear [ Allah ] " -Surat Ta-Ha.Regardless of the fact that we were less active and sleepier than usual, we managed to get through the many lab finals after laborious, sleepless days and nights of studying. 

Rumors spread about high school seniors being tested in universities instead of their classrooms as an initiative to eradicate the cheating epidemic. Since the education ministry ordered that we shall not be present at our faculty while they were testing, we had to reschedule our finals. At first, our board decided that our finals should start two weeks earlier than planned. The lecturers were frustrated while they attempted to complete the dense curriculum. We were infuriated as our studying plans were scuttled. I made a lot of schedules that were planned hour by hour of how I was going to study for my finals but ended up rearranging and scribbling over them countless times. I reached the brink of many breakdowns, but my faith restored some willpower to continue. The student council came up with a prudent idea that suggested beginning our finals only a week earlier, halting them while the seniors tested, and continuing them afterward. We agreed to it, but it had consequences on many who had plans for the summer. For instance, our friend Narjes's wedding was to begin on the first of August, which coincided with the Hospital Pharmacy final. Her positivity didn't allow her to complain one bit, though! 

The awaited finals came. With them, of course, came the cursed power cuts! It was getting hot. The humidity of July was unbearable. Studying sometimes felt like torture. I would get my stuff set up in the garden for a bliss of breeze. But, I'd go back inside when the electricity comes back on, and just when the room cools off a bit, the electricity would go out again; I would, then have to decide whether I should pick up my sheets to go out again or stay inside and melt. 

My high school sister was also being tortured as she eagerly non-stop studied for her finals also. We'd only allow specified minutes for chats and spread out in different rooms to study. 

Farah would call and text to check up on me and we'd chat, and after she makes me feel better and less stressed, I go back to studying. I remember I called Maram before the dreaded Pathology final, and she answered with, "Nuha, I'm on page six of the curriculum!" I burst out laughing because I was also so far behind and was experiencing an episode of neurosis. 

The entire time I was thinking what Shakespeare said, " All is well that ends well." And I prayed and prayed that it'd end well. 

On the awaited first of August, we took our last final and hurried down those stairs ever so joyful. Maram, Farah, and I went home as fast as we could so we could get ready for the wedding party. We had a blast during the two days of the wedding ceremony as we celebrated our dear friend's big day with the rest of the gorgeous pharmacy ladies. 

It ended very well, and we didn't mind all the downs we've been through that led up to that awesome leap of joy!