Date: Mon, 3 Nov 2003 12:37:07 -0800 (PST) From: Jason Belinsky Subject: Fiji Hazing - the end WHAT REALLY IS HAZING? ------------------------------------------ FIJI'S LIST OF 33. 3. Wearing or carrying foul items 5. Paddle swats 6. Throwing water on pledges 7. Loud music, many repititions 9. Pledges awakened during the night 13. Paddles 16. Road trips 18. Putting pledges in small room 20. Harassing another organization 21. Intentionally messing up the house 23. Less than six hours sleep 24. Not permitting adequate time for studies 25. Yelling and screaming 26. Work sessons 28. Non-allowed house duties 31. Requiring uncomfortable clothing 32. Scavenger hunts ----------------------------------------- By Whitey Awl Delta Period Hell Week - the last week before formal initiation - was called Delta Period at Fiji, and we were each told to report to the chapter house Monday night with two pairs of jeans, two pairs of socks, two white shirts, a dressy polo shirt, dressy and school shoes, black slacks, our books, a detailed schedule of classes, and $20 for food. Upon arrival, we were lined up and our stuff dumped on the floor in front of us. Some brothers pawed through our stuff, mixing it up a little, while other brothers yelled at us. Delta Period would end when we learned what "GOM" meant, and each day we would have one chance to end our misery and Delta Period. In the back of the house was an old tool room, less than 10' x 10' and just high enough to stand up, and we were given five minutes to clear out the tools, mowers, and junk. This unheated junk room, to be called "The Cage", was to house the eight pledges for Delta Period. A single nail would hold each man's clothes. We were given two buckets - one to piss in and one to crap in, and told they could never be emptied. We later learned that two speakers on the wall were wired to some stereo that played the Beatles' "Wild Honeypie" continuously and loudly. Our class schedules were posted nearby, and we were to stay in The Cage unless in class or working on a fraternity project. We were given 10 minutes to make ourselves at home, and to get dressed in our "play" clothes. The first event of Delta was the rat race. We rats had to race, actually crawl on all fours, from the garage, up the stairs, down the hall, down the stairs, and into the basement. Somebody had a stopwatch, making it a race. Eric led our rat pack, and as soon as we got to the top of the stairs the brothers formed a gauntlet, hitting us with pillows and cushions, to slow us down. At the bottom of the basement stairs, more brothers, armed with the house's squeeze bottles of catsup and BBQ sauce, doused us with stuff to slow us down. We were not surprised when they said we were too slow. "Do you want to do it over, or just depledge now?" asked Grasso. Race number two was about the same, except the brothers who had catsup and BBQ sauce now had flour and sugar. Our time was better, they said, and we could have the rest of the night to study after we had cleaned up the catsup-BBQ-flour-sugar mess. A special Delta rule: we had to clean up using the clothes we were wearing. When we got back to our cage, Honeypie was blaring and the brothers had smeared one wall with raw hamburger. We all stripped to our boxers, hoping some of the flour and sugar stuff would fall off, and we got out our books - hoping the brothers would leave us alone. We also huddled to agree that no one would crap in the bucket, hoping we could get that done in a classroom building restroom. Surprisingly, we found a little comfort in our cage, and unscrewed the lightbulb, and some got a little sleep. At 5:00 a.m., we were ordered into our dress clothes for the first "Kung Pao" breakfast. Only Eric got to eat, though, and it was Kung Pao chicken heavily dressed with hot sauce and spices. The other seven pledges had to hop one-footed in a circle around him until he got it down. Then it was back in the cage to get on our play clothes. Our breakfast was cold noodles, coated, of course, with hot BBQ sauce and hot peppers. This meal was virtually inedible, and after five minutes each pledge had to dump the uneaten remains on the head of another pledge. During the day, unless they were in class, pledges were required to work in the house, cleaning bathrooms and every other space. In the house, the filty "play" clothes had to be worn, although occasionally a brother made a pledge strip naked and put the stinking clothes back in the cage so the smell would be controlled. Occasionally a pledge could sneak into the bathroom for a piss. Tuesday night began with another rat race, with each pledge individually timed. I went third, and when I got to the basement Grasso told me I had just broken the rat record, and had earned a prize, a piece of cheese - but covered with more hot sauce. I choked it down, but soon learned that Jase, who was after me, had also broken the "record" and he had to eat a well-sauced piece of cheese. Every pledge broke the record, and got the hot cheese. Then Grasso asked if we wanted something cool to drink, and we eagerly said we did. "Get out of those filthy clothes," he said, and we were given adult-sized diapers to wear for what he called the "Century Club." Each guy's big brother came up, gave his pledge a shot glass, and filled it with "alcohol", but it tasted like oil. Each big brother had also brought a bucket, and after about 10 shots Darryl and Jess were barfing into their buckets. None of the pledges lasted even to 20 shots, as it became a game of drink two or three shots, and then barf it up. I guess the brothers knew we'd never get to the century mark, and they started telling us "keep this one down, and it'll count for 10" and such stuff to keep the game moving. As soon as all eight of us had wet our diapers, the game was over. They brought the piss bucket from the cage, so we could put out wet diapers in it, and then took us to the backyard to be hosed off. Cold water never felt so good. Wednesday night's fun began as soon as it was dark, and our big brothers drove us around until we arrived at the beach. Many brothers were there, and the screaming, yelling, calisthenics, and questions went on for a while. We had to pick up a heavy log, put it on our shoulders, and jog down the beach. Then we carried it to the waterline, where we lay down, held the log to our chests, and did sit-ups in unison as waves crashed over us. Soon Eric was told to leave us, and he was individually grilled on the fraternity lore, member's data, and the Greek alphabet. Each pledge got an individual session, and mine was a disaster since I was so tired and stressed. From the yelling I heard, I think the other pledges weren't much better answering questions while very wet and very tired. Then brother Heathen stepped up and said he was the chapter's volleyball court chairman, and that the sand court was an embarrassment. "A chapter as great as ours has to have a great volleyball court," he said, and we need a lot of new sand. "I hope you'll volunteer to help out," he said. Each pledge was given two short ropes, and told to tie his jeans tightly around his ankles. The sand would be carried to the house inside our jeans, and the pledges started putting sand in our jeans. Of course, we didn't have enough sand to make the brothers happy, so they poured in more handfuls of sand. Then Grasso interrupted, reminding the brothers that they had forgotten the Wednesday night rat race, and that the national policy required a rat race daily during Delta Period. "No problem," said someone, "we'll just race `em back to the house. Whoever gets there first gets pizza and beer." The race - their cars against our bare feet - was no contest, and we really didn't even know where we were. We did get back to the house, though, in time to raise the flag Thursday morning, and a little sand even made it to the volleyball court. Thursday night's fun and games began with a tough bunch of calisthenics. Still wearing our play clothes, which had a coating of beach sand, we were sent on a scavenger hunt - with a video camera to record and prove our hunting ability. We all piled into Eric's SUV and photocopied our butts at Kinkos, did a nude elephant walk at Venice Beach, put a condom on the sword of USC's Trojan mascot, and video five signs containing "GOM." This was a busy night, but we also got a little sleep while riding around. It was also great to be away from the stinking cage. Friday we were told to be in our play clothes and in the basement at 7:00. A huge number of brothers were there, and we learned that the many paddles around the house weren't all ceremonial - they were used on the pledges every semester. First each pledge got a swat from his big brother, and then from his big brother, and even from his big brother if still in the chapter. Then each brother who didn't have a little brother in this pledge class got to swat the pledge of his choice, and then Grasso got to smack each of us "for all the trouble we had given him." Then brother Ree, the president of the Interfraternity Council, gave us each a swat for something he called "Interfraternal Cooperation." The oldest brother presdent, a guy called Man-kind who was in grad school, stepped up an asked which pledge knew what GOM was? There was no answer, and he said "it's nothing. We just made it up to screw you." Then Grasso totally shocked us all. "In exactly one hour, there will be a humongous party right here to welcome our eight new Fiji brothers. Congratulations to all you wet and dirty guys." I wanted to faint, but there were too many guys screaming and yelling, shaking my hand and hugging me. Something I truly wanted, and had suffered for immensely for most of a semester and a Delta week to reach, was at hand. I hugged the brothers and shook their hands, but it was my pledge brothers, my fellow sufferers, who got my biggest hugs and smiles. We had hung together through a pile of shit, and now we were the honored guests at a two-keg chapter party. Wow. ---------------------------- EPILOGUE: Sept. 24, 2003, Jason Belsky and his parents filed suit in Superior Court accusing Phi Gamma Delta (a KY Corp.), Gamma Chi Chapter of Phi Gamma Delta at UC-Santa Barbara, the chapter's house corp., 10 undergraduate chapter officers and leaders, the IFC president, and 100 John Does (the other undergraduate members) of 10 complaints for negligence, battery, infliction of distress, fraud, and unfair business practices. At the end of Delta Period, Jason Belsky had been hospitalized with a viral infection, a bacterial infection, mononucleosis, and tonsillitis. After leaving the hospital, he was bedridden for several weeks, and forced to withdraw from school. His parents wrote a series of letters to UCSB officials and the the Fiji national office. Without ever talking to Jason, the Fiji national office exonerated the chapter, which continues to operate. On Mar. 23, the chapter president responded to the Belsky's by stating at "Pledge quarter is a time of bonding with your pledge class and the current brothers of this chapter. Since our first pledge class 11 years ago, every man has endured the same, bringing the bond shared that much closer." The UCSB administration suspended the chapter's official recognition, and is investigating a number of individual chapter members. When Jason returned to UCSB, Andrew Re told Jason that he was "unwelcome" at the fraternity house.