By Anna Campbell, staff reporter
My second year at the National High School Model United Nations conference, NHSMUN, was a highly anticipated event. We had waited for the day to come for almost a year, and shopped furiously for the requisite biz-cas clothes. Finally the day had come, and two modes of transport had arrived at the school; the bus, for the regular old plebeians, and the limo.
Clearly I was in the limo! We entertained ourselves by screaming at people outside who couldn’t see through the tinted windows, and finding drinks in the hidden compartments. It was, surprisingly, more cramped than the bus, although equipped with (empty) champagne buckets and disco lighting. The proximity to certain teachers was a little stifling, but we bore it surprisingly well.
I had a few goals I wanted to accomplish, namely to yolo to the fullest extent, to not lose my wallet, and to debate and fully commit to the conference. And, loosely and generally, I did accomplish those goals.
The Sturgis MUN crew, looking fly, cruised into the Sheraton by four o’clock, and our hotel rooms were exactly as I recalled. I made the mistake of breaking into a six-dollar bar of Toblerone planted in my way, but as a whole we managed not to succumb to the temptations of the room refrigerator, which was wired with a complicated bomb apparatus to stop possible thieves from stealing excess Pringles and Grey Goose.
The Hilton was better. The conferences, held in enormous conference rooms within the upper levels of the hotel, were filled with young, highly attractive and international businessmen, which was essentially what we had come for- excuse me, I meant international issues. The country I represented along with Renee Orcione, Ketryn Kotchka and Rachael Bardfield, Uzbekistan, was debating child labor in my conference room, SOCHUM (Social, Humanitarian and Cultural issues) and regrettably, I had to debate for the benefits of child labor, since Uzbekistan’s child labor is a major sect of their economy. My colleagues and I signed paper after working paper arguing for the benefits of child labor, and played hangman during caucuses. I realized I had to kick my addiction to Starbucks, but told myself today was not the day. Multiple cups of coffee were necessary to suffer through Spain’s rambling.
Although I did accomplish my second goal, not losing my wallet, somehow all my money bled through my willing fingers. Where did the money go?! I kept asking myself. Somehow I spent 100$ on the second day of our journey, and although I allotted 8$ for the final day, I spent 40$ instead. Well, you only live once, I told myself.
Obviously, the highlight of the trip was the infamous MUN dance. For those who haven’t been, it’s a fact that the geeky DO get freaky. A former ballroom had been transformed overnight into a hallucinogenic nightclub crammed with five hundred sweating, dancing teenagers. We pregamed hard in preparation for the event, but, as always, the dance itself was something of a disappointment. The method of courting in the dance was for strange boys to creep up behind innocent ravers, hiss in their ears, “Wanna dance?” and forcibly dance the night away. We didn’t wear the customary MUN stilettos because of the sheer amount of sprinting necessary to flee from odious males.
The next morning was agony. Dozens of MUN students made the walk of shame to the United Nations building, and we all dutifully voted in the United Nations building after the long-winded security check. I made it back to Sturgis feeling like a new woman, and can’t wait for next year.
