For all the Freshers it’s been a hectic term. But does anyone actually know what other people’s courses entail? In an effort to establish exactly what it is everyone else does, we’ve asked two Freshers to try and demystify their subjects…

History

In order to enter the intensely secretive world of Oxford historians, it is first necessary to grasp a few of our key features, namely our relaxed attitude to lecture attendance, aversion to sunlight, and tendency to treat books as family friends. Aside from this, we’re a fairly straightforward bunch (with one notable exception being Jonny Woods, who is neither straight, nor forward).

Though if, through reading this, you wish you were us, then don’t fret. By virtue of our superior social skills, we historians move in virtually every circle and you probably know at least one of us. The benefits of having time to spare are varied; aside from not going to lectures, and skim-reading, we have got one over on the scientists in the sense that our work is actually interesting. It’s at this point that the urge emerges to dispel some of the more unkind rumours about our subject. No facts, you say? We’ve got plenty, only they’re more fun than yours because we can make them up. The inevitable scientific jealousy at our marvellous ability to balance ample leisure-time with a superior subject is just one cross that we historians have to bear.

Fresher historians are furthermore remarkable for their unrivalled “community spirit.” Aside from the particularly sordid experience that was the History Society free drinks evening, and the questionable behaviour at last week’s Guest Dinner, New College’s First Year historians can rest assured that theirs is a happy ship in which to sail. All in all, we’re pretty funky people and you really ought to get to know us better, if not for the questionable value of our friendship, then at least for our handy history quiz trivia.

Medicine

That’s right, we’re the ones discussing dissection and septic wounds over lunch while everyone else turns green. The people whose ears prick up as soon as someone in the bar mentions they’re feeling under the weather (that doesn’t necessarily mean we want to hear all your problems – there are limits). Every morning at 9am (take note artists) we traipse over to the Medical Sciences Division, the modern building with swish carpets, shiny labs, and a lead-lined lecture theatre (no mobile signal whatsoever – nightmare). Lectures are generally pretty interesting, filled with fascinating medical knowledge and lecturers with stunning chest hair, and presenting a perfect opportunity for some of us to catch up on some much-needed sleep! One of the more discouraging mantras of medicine is that half of what you learn in medical school is wrong – you just don’t know which half – and sometimes it certainly feels that way. Our course is split into three main sections: Anatomy is essentially the study of what is where in the body, and involves Latin, dirty mnemonics (mostly unprintable), and dead people. Unlike many other medical schools, we get prosection at Oxford, meaning our bodies are already cut up for us. We stand around patiently while a doctor points out the relevant parts, waiting for the cue to get ‘stuck in’. None of us have fainted or thrown up yet, an improvement on last year…
Physiology practicals generally involve a (usually) willing victim/volunteer being put through their paces. This term, we’ve been strapping electrodes to each other and watching as our hands twitch and jump around on the table. We reacted with varying degrees of tolerance – Joe ‘Bionic’ Davidson had an unhealthily high electricity threshold, while yours truly was left giggling like a girl. Damn. Apparently next year has even more abuse in the name of science on offer – we get asphyxiated, given drugs, and much more.