We’re still holding space for everything Cynthia Erivo — so much so that we decided to go into the unknoooooowwwnnnn for a side quest. In an effort to keep true investigative journalism alive, it’s important to point out that Harvard is a place full of mysteries and enchanted secrets. However, few are as intriguing (or as mysterious) as its extensive underground tunnel system (and no, I’m not talking about Eliot’s dungeon). So, naturally, we did what any responsible intellectuals or journalists would do: grabbed a flashlight and went to investigate.

A Sign from The Past

Inspired by past Crimson coverage, we set off with our curiosity and jank frat shoes to investigate the condition of the tunnels once considered “spotless.” Long story short, a LOT can change in almost 90 years. Truly. The tunnels we encountered after clicking our heels three times (different movie, we know) were anything but clean. In fact, within the first three seconds of arriving in Kansas, we saw a gang of rats scurry down the hallway (surely coming from Kirkland). A few “wows" were exchanged, heads were shaken incredulously, and deep breaths were taken before we trudged forward.

Entering the Portal

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Picture the magical door to Narnia. Now stick it in a sweaty basement that smells worse than a Winthrop dhall’s “Catch of The Day.” The hallways? Scarier than the Mather Lowrise at 2 a.m. The floors? They’ve seen things. A Jackson Pollock of mystery fluids in shades of white, gray, brown, and green (yes, green). If that color palette doesn’t paint the picture for you… congrats, your brain is protecting you from pure terror. But, trust us, stepping through the door felt less like a whimsical wardrobe portal and more like the back alley of Tatte after a milk crate explodes.

The Scaries

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Hop. Jump. Duck. Repeat. A few minutes away from the homeland, and we were already burning more calories than the average Harvard “bodybuilder/influencer” at the MAC. A little exercise never scared us — until we got the heebie jeebies after seeing Y*le graffiti. Yuck (fale). Truthfully, that was more terrifying than any of the mysterious sludge, white powdery stains (left over from Speedsm?), or asbestos warnings that we passed on our way further and further and further into the black abyss.

Mysterious Places

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Past the steam pipes, utility rooms, and HUDS fridges lies an untapped gold mine: food. And nothing lifts the spirits of two side-questers desperately searching for the light at the end of the tunnel, like stumbling upon Tootie Fruity and Dino Bites cereal packages: a sign that maybe, just maybe, we weren’t lost to the tunnels forever. Food was our first proof of life, a beacon of hope that we were on the right track and would soon emerge somewhere populated by more people than rats. But, the deeper we ventured into this hallway, the more treasures we uncovered. Cans upon cans: pineapple chunks, pinto beans, an apocalypse bunker’s worth of legumes. A popcorn machine (yeah…we know a spot). And, most shocking of all… spices. Jars and jars of them, sitting lonely and neglected. Seeing them abandoned down here was emotional. We teared up knowing they would never fulfill their destiny in a dining hall above ground, where students desperately fiend for anything beyond salt and pepper (if that).

Leaving Our New Home

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Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and instead of dancing through our secret tunnel, we were forced to go dancing through life. Our side quest wrapped up — sweaty, slightly shocked, and forever changed — just as we finally emerged into the blinding glow of artificial light. The hum of student conversations filled the air, a sweet reminder that we had rejoined civilization. No more mystery puddles. No more asbestos warnings. Just fresh air, functioning eduroam WiFi, and the satisfaction of knowing we had seen Harvard Narnia from a whole new angle — whether we were supposed to or not.

Need to know more about the Houses connected by the tunnels? Read the rest of our Housing Market feature here!