There is something distinct in the Otago student spirit which inevitably leads to a bottle, egg, or other assorted item being thrown in the streets of studentville. Maybe it's the Leith’s unyielding supply of inedible trout which spawned the madness, or perhaps the bountiful amount of food rotting in fridges. Whatever the reason, throwing shit has a long and untampered history at Otago University, dating back to at least 1935 when the ‘Water of Leith run’ dragged in enough bemused spectators to start a revolution.
Since then, the culture of throwing shit has evolved with a complexity you wouldn’t think possible for such a simple art. The pastime has become inextricably linked with Toga Party, which has seen items pelted since 2009, in the days when George Street was not Totally Georgeous™. This cultural groundswell reached its climax in the 2010’s before the Uni began cracking down on the beloved art with expulsions and reprimands galore in 2016. Almost overnight, the culture of throwing shit disappeared. Gone were the days of care-free throwing eggs at freshers. With leaders captured and placed under the administrative guillotine, throwers went into hiding, practising their craft in lonely bedrooms where Playstation controllers could be thrown into walls with little consequence.
While the Uni’s watchful eye has wavered in recent years, egg prices and a culture of anti-throw fearmongering continue to beat the practice into submission. Sadly, some noble throwers, upset by the rejection of their trade, have turned to the dark side. In recent years, “bottling” has become a tragic but recurrent theme within the student community. A habit built on ignorance, bottling has become a serious problem for both students and emergency department staff to deal with. Yet hope remains.
Light still shines on the sordid streets of Castle. Critic Te Ārohi had a chat with one student beckoning forth a new generation of throwers. Ana, a second-year student fresh from the battlefield, said that she “couldn’t afford or find eggs anywhere”, so she had to get creative with her artillery. Instead of eggs, her group used water balloons and buckets to get the job done. Ana said that, “It’s like having water fights when you’re a kid, except it’s one-sided and you know they won’t get you back.” Ana’s opinion on throwing changed drastically when we got to the topic of bottling; she said, “It’s such a bad culture in Dunedin…harmful and idiotic.” Tyler*, a fellow second-year, agreed with Ana, stating, “Bottling’s just stupid, aye.” He then commented on his water ballooning experience: “We sconed them on the way [to Alhambra Rugby Club] but then had a good time yarning with them on the way back. All good fun at the end of the day.”
Based on reports Critic Te Ārohi has received, water balloons appear to be the most rudimentary new weapon adopted in the power vacuum left by eggs. Chicken legs, bags of cooking oil, and suitcases have all been cited as potential missiles - tried and tested, but less favourable. One student, Angus, even reported having a cauliflower thrown at him out a car window during last year’s O-Week. Angus mused that, “It was totally unexpected. So funny though.” Questions must be raised about Angus’s state of inebriation in this moment as he went on to state, “The cauliflower was the only thing I ate the entire night.”
These statements give insight into a mere smattering of the new and exciting shit that students are learning to throw. Even on an average night out, students find a way. Some dusty students have even honed the technique of throwing up leftover food from their guts onto whatever surface is available. Last Sunday alone Critic Te Ārohi witnessed over six of these incidents, a true display of class from tomorrow’s doctors and lawyers.
Though throwing culture may not be everyone’s favourite aspect of student life, it is certainly one that looks like it will be sticking around. The question is: how will the throwing legacy unfold? Will it be tarnished by the deviant activities of reckless and irresponsible bottlers, or will it soon be regarded with the respect that only a passionate group of throwers could possibly garner? At that question, Critic Te Ārohi throws up our metaphorical hands. The fate of the egg un-thrown is in the hands of students alone.