If you've ever seen the classic comedy Naked Gun 2 1/2: The Smell of Fear starring Leslie Nielson, you'll remember the following scene: Frank Drebin (Nielson) crashes through the glass ceiling at the headquarters of the colluding oil, gas and nuclear executives after swimming through a nearby sludge pond of raw sewage. One exec remarks indignantly: "What's that smell?" to which Drebin replies nonchalantly, "Oh, I'm afraid that's me. I've been swimming in raw sewage."
Incidentally, the above episode hit close to home for me two days ago in a much less amusing scenario. After flushing the urinal in the dorm bathroom, I stepped across into the shower and turned the water on. The urinal would not stop flushing, so I resolved to call maintenance after finishing my shower.
Before continuing, it's worth noting the following incident took place in the now notorious Craven Quad House R tower, about which at least three Chronicle articles have been written this year alone regarding infrastructure failures. The latest incident comes after the third-floor urinal exploded last September, flooding the second floor where I live. A month later the marble stall divider two floors below shattered. And finally, there are the near-constant faucet malfunctions that have precipitated numerous calls to maintenance.
Fast forward to two days ago. Within seconds of turning on the shower I recognized the pungent of smell of raw sewage saturating the air. Yes, it would seem that I was showering in "crappy" water-which would also explain why I was itching so much afterward. It remains unclear what exactly happened, since the maintenance employee could neither pinpoint nor fix the problem.
What is clear, however, is the negligence of RLHS and the administration in general in maintaining Duke's residence halls. Too much emphasis has been placed on completing sexy projects-like the student plaza and Planet Central (aka the Central Campus overhaul)-at the expense of basic upkeep students are entitled to.
It is ironic that The Chronicle reported the price tag of the first phase of Planet Central at $240 million the same day the Craven incident occurred. Back in July 2002, an upbeat Vice President of Student Affairs Larry Moneta gave a timeline of four-at most five-years for completion of all West Campus renovations. As The Chronicle reported earlier this month, however, funding woes have stalled renovation plans for Crowell and Craven Quads, pushing the project back at least another two years.
While construction projects often hit snags-like financial difficulties-this should not eclipse the fact that the administration's priorities are out of whack. Not long after the renovation of Kilgo Quad, Moneta moved on to a new project-the student plaza. That has now been supplanted by Planet Central. Having multiple construction projects running concurrently can be a great thing, but not when funding for more urgent projects has yet to be secured.
Further, allowing 80-year old infrastructure to atrophy and taking a "patch it up" approach to maintenance is unacceptable. The administration's blasé attitude was perhaps best summed up by Joe Gonzales, associate dean of residence life, back in October: "You can't always anticipate where a problem will occur," he said. "Our system works well for us." Well, it's true that no one has a crystal ball to predict the future, but what's preferable: wearing a condom or treating an STD?
Suffice it to say, we should not tolerate substandard facilities-especially at the price tag of coming to Duke. The $840 per year difference between living in a renovated double or one in Crowell or Craven Quads does not nearly cover the differences in living conditions, including such amenities as air conditioning.
As a final insult, the administration continues to tighten its grip on housing options. Students must already live on campus for three years. Now, the recent East Campus buyout will push numerous future seniors to relocate on campus where they will be forced to pay Duke-determined housing rates-no matter the physical integrity of the residence halls themselves.
Two days ago, The New York Times reported on how a once insensitive Katrina recovery czar, Donald E. Powell, changed his image from a "'flint-souled' bean counter whose only concern was 'guarding the money,'" to a champion of real rehabilitation. From where did his metamorphosis come? Powell went out and listened to the people he was supposed to serve. Hopefully, RLHS and the administration will see the same light when it comes to maintaining some pipes.
Jared Fish is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Thursday.
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