<p>As an expat Brit living at Fairfield Beach, I am well acquainted with the qualities of the local college's students. Why, just the other night one thoughtful young man was watering the rhododendron in front of my house. I tried to dissuade him, explaining that the bush didn't need it, but he refused to take no for an answer. Rather vehemently, I might add. </p>
<p>On another occasion, a few Septembers ago, my wife and I received a surprise visit from some young lads and ladies, carrying red plastic libation cups, who came traipsing through our house. At 11 PM. In a state of nature. Even my wife - who is French - has marveled at these quaint customs.</p>
<p>It's reassuring to note that at least one quaint custom - cottaging between dons and students - has crossed the Atlantic. Last spring, I was using the college's library when nature overcame me and I repaired to the loo. While rinsing my hands afterwards, I happened to look up in the mirror as a cubicle door opened and a tall, young bloke wearing a backwards ball cap walked out. He saw me, but for some odd reason left abruptly without washing his hands. Whereupon, an older gentleman in clerical collar emerged from the same cubicle. He likewise did not bother to wash his hands.</p>