Overseas Briefing

Author: Hannah Washington

PORTUGAL - Coming to Portugal, I had no idea that I would be stepping out of one version of "Harry Potter" world into another. We're all familiar with the general perception of Middlebury, complete with its Commons and Quidditch teams in rural Vermont, as a version of reality that we can compare to Hogwarts. Imagine my surprise when I arrived in Coimbra, a city of 100,000 people and 25,000 students, to find that it, in its own way, is perhaps even more like Hogwarts than Middlebury.

Portugal is an old country, with more recorded history than exists in the Americas. As history goes hand-in-hand with traditions, it should not be surprising that even everyday life over here is replete with foreign cultural traditions that the natives take for granted. I came expecting that. What surprised me was just how vibrant academic traditions are here.

The Universidade de Coimbra was founded in the 13th century. Its over 700 years of operation have allowed ample time for its traditions to form and stick. One that I noticed after I arrived was the traje académico, the academic uniform. Unlike our concept of uniforms in academic institutions, these uniforms are worn voluntarily, as a sign of pride, by upperclassmen. Complete with jacket, vest, collared-shirt, tie, slacks (skirts for girls) and cape, it looks as if these kids stepped out of a Harry Potter movie. They tend to wander in clumps - where there's one kid in the academic garb, there are usually at least a half-dozen others.

Annual city- and college-wide celebrations also seem to be the norm. The most recent was the Festa das Latas, or Latada, that consisted of a week-long celebration with nightly dancing, concerts and student craziness. Even though many students were staying out all night, classes continued as usual until the final day of the festa. Classes were cancelled that afternoon and, as is the tradition, everyone gathered in the Praça, as a parade of caloiros (first-years), dressed in ridiculous outfits by their upperclassmen madrinhas or padrinhos ("godparents"), herded themselves down to the Rio Mondego to be "baptized" in the river as university students.

As it turns out, most of the academic traditions here are related. They all descend from Praxe, a word that comes from the Latin "praxis," meaning "custom." The idea of a first-year orientation like we have at Middlebury is non-existent in Portugal. Instead, upperclassmen of each faculdade have almost complete control over the integration of caloiros into their programs. In many ways, this seems like a good idea: You enter college with upperclassmen friends who take care of you and make sure you know what you need to do. It also allows first-years to take part in traditions that are centuries old, nourishing a feeling of school pride.

But it isn't all good. Though Praxe is often good-natured, it can also be degrading and, on occasion, violent. By the code of Praxe, caloiros have to do as the doutores - the upperclassmen - instruct them, unless they state explicitly that they do not "follow Praxe," by which they relinquish the guidance from upperclassmen. After the first year, students have the right to wear the traje académico and to subject the following year's first-years to the same humiliations and hazing, while simultaneously giving the guidance with which their experience at the university has endowed them. The motto that I see in the city is Dura praxis, sed praxis. Praxe is tough, but it is the Praxe.

Being more an observer than a participant here, I can't shake the sense that I'm living on the set of the next "Harry Potter" movie.