Orientation week is a seven-day cocktail party. It's a homework-free romp through the Yard. It's an opportunity to bond with geniuses who got 1600s on their SATs and roommates who snorkle, write award-winning poetry and splice genes in their free time. It's a long, strange trip that's completely forgotten a month later.

Harvard first-year students come in at least two varieties: big orientation week fans and big orientation week critics. Very few think the experience is just "okay."

For those who like introductions, small talk and playing the name game, it's a blast. Every day is an opportunity to meet a future spouse, or at least a first girlfriend or boyfriend. Besides taking placements tests, the only responsibilities are socializing and more socializing.

The people who thoroughly enjoy orientation soon find that they don't have a single bad thing to say about Harvard. Their fate is sealed. They often become Crimson Key hosts, sharing their enthusiasm with tourists from around the world.

Less boppy students will describe orientation week as an "ordeal," or at least call it "weird." They find the placement tests too challenging, idiotic and numerous, and the ice-breaker events too shallow. The hi-what's-your-name-where-are-you-from-what's-y our-dorm-well-nice-to-meet-you mantra grows old very quickly, and the days become a blur of cookouts, sweaty parties and fierce scamming.

During the next three years, orientation week detractors will shake their heads sadly, recalling all the cute Jennys and Kevins that they met that week so long ago and haven't spoken to since.

Nevertheless, no one can accuse orientationweek of being like high school or like anythingelse from a 18 year-olds previous experience, forthat matter.

The first year's introductory extravaganzabegins on the day when dorms open, usually aFriday. This is a significant day. The bigquestions: Just who is this roommate? Will weclick? Will I instantly hate him/her? Does he/shehave a cool stereo system I can use? Is thatunpleasant smell due to his/her recent return froma week-long First-year Outdoor Program backpackingtrip, or is this a regular thing?

Roommate dynamics for the rest of the year arefrequently determined by the way students handlethe all-important bedroom selection process. Someroommates are nice and wait for everyone to arrivebefore they settle down in a particular room.Others do not.

That evening, it's time to discover theculinary wonders of the Harvard Union. This is thedining-room-away-from-home, where a 30-minute waitfor a plate of caponata spaghetti is nothingunusual, and where firstyears learn to dine to thedull roar of 1600 of their chattering classmates.Many believe that the Union, more than anythingelse, defines the first year experience. Neveragain do students eat Chickwiches with a group thesize of some Midwestern towns.

Classmates continue to move in on Saturday.Further roommate bonding takes place, or doesn't.Saturday is a good day for errands--a good day tospend big bucks. The Coop will be full offirst-years with parents in tow, examining theprices of laundry baskets, full-length mirrors andartsy M.C. Escher posters (every first-year roomhas at least one).

That weekend also marks the Ice Cream Bash, asocial function designed to initiate first-yearsinto the Square's fetish for frozen desserts. Forthe next four years, the Union will provide icecream at least once a day, giving its students thedelusion that in the real world, they will haveice cream regularly. The Bash is also one of thefirst opportunities to meet other members of theclass. It's certainly not the last.

The first weekend also kicks of the orientationweek party series, sponsored by fellow classmateswho would like to meet other classmates via keg.Recently, Yard parties have become harder to comeby due to a stricter alcohol policy at theCollege. Many students will likely spend everynight for the rest of the week--no, for the restof college--searching for The Party, which may ormay not actually exist. Good luck.

Sunday is highlighted by the Opening Exercises.First-years and their families sit on foldingchairs together in Tercentenary Theater and try toimagine four years at this place. They sing quaintHarvard songs, listen to witty speeches, lookaround at other families and try to convincethemselves that the next time they end up sittingon a Tercentenary Theater foldingchair--Commencement--is a long, long way away.

From Opening Exercises, the first-year classheads en masse to the Radcliffe Quad for agood old fashioned picnic--Harvard Dining Servicesal fresco, basically. Students are supposedto sit with their dormmates, but during the longmarch to the Quad, they tend to get separatedsomewhere between Johnston gate and the SheratonCommander Hotel. These kinds of things have a wayof happening on the way to the Quad.

Sunday night, students go back to their dormsfor a lengthy and somewhat interesting proctormeeting. Lengthy because the proctor will go overa neverending list of administrative rules.Interesting because this is the first look atintricate-but-oh-so-fascinating dorm relations.Students can entertain themselves during theproctor's "be supportive of each other" speech bystudying the other dorm in habitants and pickingout The Loner, The Social butterfly, The Kid Who'sRumored To Have A Perfect SAT Score But No One'sReally Sure, The Shoulder to Cry On Kid and TheAnnoying as Hell Kid.

The week begins in earnest with first-yearregistration. Registration sounds important. Itsounds like something that requires an early alarmclock setting. But the secret to registration isto go in the afternoon. Everyone thinks it's agood idea to line up in the morning. As a result,first-years find themselves stuck in an hour-longline playing more name game, which by now isbeginning to get old. And it's still early in theweek.

The line is good for something, though. Thecoach of the varsity crew team shows up to checkout the new crop of first-years, zeroing in on thetallest ones who just might be interested inrising at 5 a.m. to row on the chilly Charles.Short students will be asked to be coxswains.Average-heighted students will be ignored.

Inside Memorial Hall, first-years fill outforms and sign their names several times. Theyexit the building, only to enter a tent in whichthey are attacked from all sides by members ofvarious extracurricular groups: JoinHarvard-Radcliffe Orchestra! Comp the Advocate!Interested in Public Service? WannaRTLÄa HarvardCheerleader? Comp The Crimson! Studentsinvariably get involved in some of theseactivities and wind up either enriched or bootedfrom school after they devote 20 hours a day tothe organization and forget to study.

Generally, the first episode of the orientationweek placement test series is the famousExpository Writing Test, in which first-yearsstruggle to recall their admissions essays, whichmust have impressed someone over at Biyearly Hall.Now they must once again impress someone--thistime in the Expos Department--so that they can getinto a decent semester-long writing class andavoid Expos 10, the year-long alternative for theless prosaically-inclined.

There are other tests to take, for students wholike that kind of thing. Chemistry placement testsdetermine the level of hell for would-be premeds.It's a good idea to take a foreign languageplacement test; it's possible to test out ofHarvard's foreign language requirement. An eveningcookout caps that day's activities. More namegame.

Students awake the next day to a delightfulmath test. Harvard doesn't force anyone to takemath, so the results are completely irrelevant forhumanities concentrators. These people should havefun with the test and enjoy a good hearty laugh atthe results, which will not be too impressive.

There's a talent show one night, in whichfirst-years applaud their gifted classmates whocan play guitar, sing and even recite "The Raven"from memory. But while this is Harvard, there willstill be crummy acts. Which will be refreshing,since this is Harvard.

Mid-week, first-years will have to spend themorning acing or bombing the notoriousQuantitative Reasoning Requirement Data Test.Students arrive to their assigned testinglocation, QRR Study Guides in hand, and get readyto embark on the long journey to "20," which isthe minimum score for passing the exam. Byachieving this feat, first-years avoid the nasty"QRA" course and are liberated from bell curvesand pie charts forever. Unless they're intostatistics, or are regular readers of USA Today.

For the rest of the day, first-years can takemore placement tests if they so desire, and attenduninteresting panel discussions. They can also hopfrom extracurricular introductory meeting toextracurricular introductory meeting, filling upat each stop on the Smartfood and Doritos providedfor refreshment. That night, first-years get afirst look at one of Harvard's strangerphenomenons, the a capella jam. The performance'spattern goes something like this: a capella groupperforms funny skit. Audience members laugh andwish they, too, could wear tuxedos and blackcocktail dresses and be funny. A capella groupsings song with lots of ba-ba-ba sounds andharmonizing. Audience members applaud and wishthey, too, could wear tuxedos and black cocktaildresses and sing well. A capella groups encouragefirst years to audition.

Audience members go to auditions, try out, getcut and wish they, too, could wear tuxedos andblack cocktail dresses and be in an a capellagroup. Six months later, after attending a capellaconcerts every other weekend, audience membersrealize they never want to see another tuxedo orblack cocktail dress again.

At some point during the week, prefects show upto meet their assigned dorm. Prefects are olderHarvard students who "show the ropes" tofirst-years. They might take their group out toice cream every week, invite them to their riverhouse suites to watch The Simpsons" on Thursdaysat 8 or explore Boston with their prefectees. Ormaybe they'll never stop by again.

The night they appear, prefects lead theircharges on a wild goose chase through the Yard.They are supposed to be competing against all theother dorms in this Hunt for the Yard Plate, afancy-looking silver platter. But with 1600 bodiestearing through the dark and screamingHolworthy/Thayer/Canaday Rules!, it isanyone's guess who wins.

As orientation week winds down, firstyears aretreated to still more placement tests andextracurricular meetings. On Friday evening,however, they gather at the Science Center for oneof Harvard's most bizarre rituals. The Crimson Keysponsors a screening of Love Story, a filmwhich takes place at the big H in the 1970s.

As if the crocheted caps, bellbottoms andultra-cheezy, heavy-on-the-string-section scoreare not enough, Crimson Key members turn theviewing into Harvard's very own Rocky HorrorPicture Show. They shout out wisecracks, thenlaugh at their own jokes. As the movie draws toits saccharine close, firstyears generally stareat the screen in stunned silence, wondering ifmaybe they should've picked Yale after all.

Finally, orientation week concludes for good onSunday afternoon, when finelydressed first-yearsparade to a tea hosted by President Neil L.Rudenstine and Radcliffe President Linda S.Wilson. Brave students can introduce themselves toHarvard's head honchos. Or they can spend thefinal hours of the week playing one more round ofname game.

Because next week, it's time to move on. Now,Harvard thinks its first-years are sufficientlyoriented. Maybe they are, and maybe they aren't.

But many are exhausted with constantsocializing, and are almost looking forwardto--yes--studying.Crimson File PhotoOrientation only lasts a week, don'tworry.