Sometimes it's good for eras to end.

Huis Marais, the mens residence in Stellenbosch I stayed at in 1993 and 1994 (my father was there 1967-1969) is no more.

Well, it is no more in the sense that, from next year, it will cease to be a mens residence and become a fully fledged co-ed student accommodation house.

This means a 100 years of tradition and legacy will cease. Now, the brunt of this article is: Is that a bad thing?

See, reading between the lines, the Huis has not bathed itself in glory in the years since I've been there. There have been several incidences of alcohol abuse resulting in accidents, continuous questions raised around clinging to initiation rituals that have no place in a modern inclusive South Africa, and a general sense of unwillingness to evolve.

This was also the case in my time there. In fact, I clearly recall being both victim and perpetrator of some very offside activities. And our whole house being called to account in both instances.

So yesterday, a petition to keep it men-only came across my WhatsApp channel. And it sparked a whole bunch of memories, conflicting emotions and reflections, that I thought I would share here.

My first feeling upon reading the news of the "Koshuis" demise was relief. Relief that I now no longer even need to wonder whether I would ever encourage either of my boys to go there, as a third generation to educate at Stellenbosch. Especially since Matie, my oldest, carries my fathers name. Yep, Relief. Why? Because I f*cking hated the place.

And lets dial it way back for a second, so I can give some context.

As an 18 year old I was socially dysfunctional, utterly unsure of my own value system and deeply contrary to unfair authoritarian systems. So to go to a mens residence where there was a strong culture of "Fit in or F*ck off", you need to be ok to be a second-class citizen for your entire first year, and guys only a year older than you and the institutional power to make your life a living hell if you didn't play ball... well, I found I had some challenges.

So I vacillated between fitting in and flaking out, I challenged said senior authority and I tried to figure out how I wanted to be in the world at the same time. Today I wonder where my father was in terms of mentorship and guidance during all this - he encouraged me to go there, but he didn't really help me with the tools I needed to enjoy it - or emotionally survive it. I refused to go to rugby practice -challenging the captain (not smart). I would begrudgingly serve as the team "manager" - but do the utmost minimum and be surprised when no-one was particularly grateful. And I decided to stick around once the seniors started to make my life painful with psychological warfare. I was thoroughly unwelcome, massively unpopular. But I wouldn't let them beat me - and I stuck around for the whole first year, and continued on for a second year. And during this time, all the friends that I made, would be outside of that eco-system. For the record, most of the first years that were with me thought I was a "poepol" as well.

Would I go back and change things? Possibly - but for clarity, those choices did lead to a degree, some amazing friends outside of koshuis (Who I made because of how bad it was for me in Koshuis) and a few life lessons that I now carry with me, and arguably have made me a better man and better equipped to lead my sons through this tricky transition.

So lets start with the good - there was a surplus of highly focused and motivated guys in the House, which means I academically prospered for the two years I was there, surrounded by support. When I left to go to my own "digs", things fell apart academically. Thats a different story. I also played tennis and squash for the house, and made some lifelong friendships as a result - outside of house. Dave, Kappie, Cobus... in fact, all the Simonsberg dudes.

But I retain no friends from my two years in Huis Marais. My best friend Deon, in fact, came in as a first year when I was second year - and in hindsight, I don't know what I was thinking encouraging him to come. That year we hardly spoke to each other - it was frowned upon to mingle with juniors.

I retain no sense of fraternity - one of my ex-roommates Bertie tried valiantly to organise a reunion a couple of years ago, but nothing came of it. It does seem like I am not the only one to feel apathy towards the place.

But there were two guys that left a lasting impression on me. Years later, I would be introduced to the concept of "Servant Leadership" - and Dirkie, who enjoyed high popularity in the house and ended up being the Primarius, gained that traction by being the house hairdresser. Yep, he cut everyone's hair for free. He was of service - and that leadership by way of service I will never forget. I was saddened a few years ago to hear of his passing. So if I was desperately unpopular, I could have just followed his example and changed things for myself. He found a way to be of use in the network, and he executed that utility with gusto and consistency. Its simple. I didn't take the lesson at the time.

As I mentioned before, I was asked, as a way to get me involved, to be the "Team manager" for the first rugby team, the entire focus on male student life in Stellenbosch. The team manager was a gofer - go get the shirts for the opposing team, take the scores on the day and go submit them, etc. I did it without complaint (I think) but with no great enthusiasm.

We have another Pieter in our year. Piet Poolman, engineering student, and the smartest kid to come out of Namibia in his matric year. He was neither sporty nor a social dynamo, in my opinion. But in our second year, he volunteered and became the team manager, and they loved him! He was mentioned every week, thanked and was completely IN the mix. How did he do it?!! Well he did the job, but then did the extra little things. Made the rugby boys know, through words and actions, that he gave a shit. It was all about the attitude with which he applied himself to the task. It took me years to fully onboard the learning.

When I left the House, I remained unpopular. As they say - wherever you go, thats where you are. And I could lay blame on my old man till I am blue in the face - but I will rather say, all the lessons were presented to me, I just chose not to take them. We all have to walk our own path, and the negative experiences are as necessary as the positive ones. It was only a few years after Varsity, with some hard knocks learned traveling and making my own way in the world, that the lessons landed.

I walked away from Huis Marais, and Stellenbosch, with a graduate degree that has helped me immensely in my subsequent endeavours and opened more doors for me. I walked away with some stories and life lessons that have served me well. And I walked away, most pertinently, with a sense that my life was just beginning - and my moderately unhappy four years at university faded into memory as the joy of my twenties kicked in.

I now know that I should have had more gratitude. For my parents, for the opportunity to study, for the 1000 extracurricular options that I had and didn't choose to take.

I now know that people learn in different ways. If I had chosen to pay attention to Colin Sanderson, for example, I would have not wasted countless hours in boring lectures but instead devoted myself to different learning styles, and taken up all the opportunities presented to me of student life. But I sank into the laziness of student life. And maybe that was also a necessary stage.

I now know that I could have had an entirely different experience if I shifted my mindset and chose a direction wholeheartedly. Either fit in or f*ck off - but don't NOT FIT IN AND NOT F*CK OFF. Thats a lose lose. Either way would have brought better results - but I chose neither.

And I now know that I will always drive past that building with mixed feelings. Gratitude and resentment, joy and anger, regret and relief.

And I feel sad for people like Bertie, who have an overwhelmingly positive memory. But I mostly feel relief that the option to send my boys there has expired - and now it is one less thing that I need to obsess over. My dad loved it, maybe my sons would too? Was my negative experience because of me, or was it the place?

Probably a little bit of both. So I can make sure my boys are more mature and self aware, and emotionally better equipped at 18 years old. And I can present them with options for future study (or not) that are not linked into any legacy expectation. I can encourage them to learn and grow in their own way to their own needs and talents. And I can help them find the place that will both challenge and embrace them.

Works for me.