October 22 was Raisin Monday at St. Andrews University.
It was what?
Why Raisin Monday, of course, the day when, in a centuries-old tradition, first-year students (known as bajans or bejants, and I haven’t been able to find out what the difference is) presents the older students who’ve acted as pseudo-parents with a pound of raisins to thank them. The parents have to give their children receipts to prove that they’ve gotten the raisins, because families are difficult and you never do know when sweet old Uncle Whatsit’s going to say, “Raisins? What raisins? You didn’t give me any raisins.”
The receipt has to be in Latin. And since modern students can’t be counted on to know any more Latin than veni, vedi, vici (and not necessarily that much), the student union website provides a text for them to cut and paste.

Irrelevant photo: Cotoneaster, which is pronounced ka-TONE-ee-aster. not cotton-EAST-er. The birds plant it everywhere, and very lovely it is, even when it’s just a smidge out of focus.
Traditionally the receipt had to be on parchment. These days–what with parchment being hard to get hold of–the more bizarre the thing it’s written on, the better, and as a result the student union advises that “your Raisin Receipt should be of reasonable size and safe: oversize, electrical, stolen or otherwise illegal raisin receipts will be confiscated and you and your kids will face disciplinary action. Please also remember that regardless of type, all raisin receipts will be thrown away before the academic kids enter the quad. If you or your academic child would like to keep their receipt make sure to hold on to it for them while they are in the foam fight!”
The foam fight? We’ll get to that.
Why is raisin receipt sometimes capitalized and Sometimes Not? Because these kids don’t know their Latin. What’s the world coming To?
These days, Raisin Monday takes up a whole weekend (when I last looked, most weekends didn’t include a Monday, but never mind) and first-year students have both an academic mother and an academic father. In the old days, they made do with just a father, because women–as as would have been screamingly obvious to everyone at the time–didn’t belong in universities. You know what women are like. On average, they get better grades than men, and if that’s not enough they eat all the raisins.
Of course you want a source for that. Or try this one if you prefer.
I won’t cite any studies for that business about the raisins. Everyone knows it’s true.
But times change and traditions evolve. Women have invaded universities. So the first-years are expected to bring first their mothers and then their fathers a “nice gift, “ which is more likely to be wine than raisins. The mother then dresses the child in a ridiculous costume. The father hands over the receipt.
The student union warns that dressing your kid as a condom “won’t impress anyone.” They’re wrong about that of course–the world always contains some dimwit who will be impressed–but the warning’s as well intentioned as it is inaccurate. News articles about the event mention students dressed as bananas, gnomes, robots, and police boxes.
Do I have to explain everything? A police box is an extinct British institution that’s the size and shape of a British phone booth (also rapidly becoming becoming extinct), but blue instead of red. They were introduced in the 1920s and were installed around the country so that people could pick up the phone and call the police when they needed to. If you watch Dr. Who, you’ll know that the tardis is disguised as a police box. If you don’t watch Dr. Who, you have no idea what I’m talking about.
I may be wrong to call police boxes an institution when they’re objects. I could also be wrong to say that an institution or an object can go extinct. And I could also be wrong to trouble you with copy editors’ quibbles, but I can’t be bothered coming up with a more accurate phrase. Can we move on?
Since the receipts have to be in Latin, we should all probably learn that the Latin for raisins, according to Lord Google, is contritae passo excipiuntur, but that didn’t look right to me and I asked him to translate that back to English. The English was crushed grapes. According to the sample receipt posted on the union’s website, it’s uvarum siccarum–dried grapes. Or possibly dry grapes. I don’t actually know Latin, I’m working from Spanish, a few broken fragments of Italian, and guesswork.
I speak guesswork fluently.
Not many of us will need to know the Latin for raisins, but if anyone knows the real word, it would make a wonderful gift. Just leave it in the comment box. I’ll owe you a pound of virtual raisins.
The website mentions that the Raisin Monday tradition is about “much more than drinking.”
This is verifiable. It’s also about squirting each other with foam and dressing up as police boxes. So let’s talk about the foam fight. ITV News describes it as the messy culmination of a weekend of festivities involving hundreds of students.
Paloma Paige, association president for the students’ union, explained the tradition this way: “I know some people ran in saying, ‘What is this, what are we doing?’ but nobody really knows and that’s the whole fun of it.
“The foam hasn’t gone back centuries, especially the shaving foam. It’s just evolved throughout the years and this has now become the quintessential part of the whole weekend.”
And there you have British tradition in a nutshell. We don’t know what we’re doing and we don’t know why, but we know it’s a tradition. Hand me the shaving cream.
An unnamed student was quoted as saying, ““I have foam in my eyes –it’s quite painful.”
Shaving cream (or foam, if you like) was invented in the early twentieth century but didn’t become a squirtable, fight-worthy aerosol until the 1950s. St. Andrews was founded in 1413. If anyone knows the year when Raisin Monday started, they’re keeping it to themselves.
I am still confused about the receipt. Who gets the receip and who signs it. But being confused about that suits me fine. You don’t have to explain. And I am up at this hour from insomnia. That has nothing to do with raisins. A foam fight. Why didn’t they think of that when Zi was in school. Not there but over here. Couldn’t it get in your ears? I am glad they did not have that when I was in school. But come to think of it I think they did. But I never participated. The ear thing you know. I will try to go back to sleep now. I had an aspirin, a little bread and some water. Maybe that will help. If not, I may try going in my ear. Night, now.
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I may try foam in my ear. That other thing sounded weird. Does predictive text have a sense of humor?
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Yes, absolutely, predictive text does have a sense of humor, and its favorite thing to laugh about is humans who don’t turn it off.
It hates being turned off.
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I probably should explain, since it risks adding to your insomnia, but the academic father writes the receipt and gives it to the academic kid. Since it’s a fair bet that neither of them knows Latin, it could probably be Latin-looking gibberish. Kind of like the tattoos people get in languages they don’t speak.
Wishing you a good night’s sleep. It’s 9 a.m. here.
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Thanks. That makes sense. I would write that in Latin but I done know Latin. I came, I saw, I went back to sleep. Vincent, vicenia, venceum. There.
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Gee, and here I thought is was Vincent, Vincent, Vincent, which translates to Vincent, what have you done?
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Living in a university town, I read this and thought the locals in St Andrews must dread Raisin Monday/weekend. These days as student numbers have ballooned to make up a something like 40% of the population! St Andrews have 7000 students in a town of 18000!
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And a day when they’re all covered with foam, screaming, and (I’m going to guess) drunk–yeah. I’d dread it too.
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I think you’d probably go on holiday if you could…
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Absolutely.
I’ve gone to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival any number of times and always think the same thing about living in Edinburgh: They must dread this month.
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I think in Edinburgh they might rent out their flats and leave!
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At least they can make some money from their strategic retreat.
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On the other hand, what an incredible niche market for a Latin-speaking raisin vendor!
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It’s not what you’d call year-round employment, but for a lovely day or three you could make some money.
Probably.
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Love this line: “You know what women are like. On average, they get better grades than men, and if that’s not enough they eat all the raisins.” I am enjoying your blog so much!
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Thank you for that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think there’s a raisin or two left in the back corner of my kitchen counter.
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I haven’t watched Dr. Who in ages
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It doesn’t matter–it’s still a police box.
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Hi Ellen -you can tell I am feeling better cos I’ve just read your observations on life -had the usual chortle and looked up Latin for raisin – astaphis -I’ll bring you some astaphides on Wednesday but am clean out of shaving foam!
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I’m glad I got two versions of your comment, because I forgot to say: I didn’t know you needed a WordPress password to leave a comment. What a pain in the neck. And elsewhere.
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Hi Ellen – you can tell I am feeling better because I have just read all your musings on St Andrews Uni traditions and had good chortle! I had to get a new WordPress password as it is so long since I used the facility -but you’re worth it!
I found the Latin translation for raisin to be astaphis so I will bring you some astaphidis on Wednesday but I am clean out of shaving foam-sorry!
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Thanks for that. It’s the second (or first–I think the one I just read came later) version of the Latin for raisins I’ve been sent–and then there are the assorted ones I started with. The Romans must’ve had different words for each individual raisin.
Glad to know you’re feeling better. You bring the raisins and I’ll bring the shaving cream. And everyone else will wonder what’s wrong with us.
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Do the rules specify shaving cream? Or just foam? Because raisins and whipped cream might be an interesting combination. You could defend yourself with muffins and instead of wondering what’s wrong with you, everyone else will want to join in.
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As far as I know, foam. I made the leap to shaving foam–or cream, as I’d call it. But you’ve made me wonder how crumpets would taste with whipped cream.
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Better than with shaving cream, if not quite as foamy.
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Although probably harder to clean up. Some TV show I was watching recently about the motorway network (I have high literary tastes) mentioned that milk is incredibly destructive if it gets into a lake or pond. Or, I assume, river.
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I suddenly have the urge to make Oatmeal raisin cookies and shave. Not at the same time but, yeah.
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Preferably in separate rooms.
This message was brought to you by the Health Inspector.
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My contribution to Notes – “uvam passam” – Google translates that back to English as Raisins. I didn’t check going the other way, because it works in the direction required. Also, if you really want to foam someone, Shake the can – invert the can – open the bottom of the can with one of the old-fashioned can openers (before flip tops) we used to call a Church Key’. All the foam in the can exists toward your target in about three seconds.
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I’m not sure when I’ll need to know that, never mind why, but I’m convinced it’s information I’ll have a need at some point. And I’m not going to ask how you learned it.
Thanks for the Latin. It looks vaguely like “pass the grapes,” but maybe it means they were grapes in the past. Translation by guesswork isnt a bright idea, so I’ll stop. Predictive text must’ve had fun with it, though.
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So wonderfully weird!
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It is. How they made the jump from raisins to shaving cream is anyone’s guess.
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UENI UIDI UICI no ‘V’ s only ‘U’ s. else you will upset the modern scholars.
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Upsetting scholars is awfully tempting, but I really should save that for when I know something about a subject. You don’t happen to know the genuine word for raisin, do you? So far, I’ve been offered two unrelated ones in the comments.
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I doubt a genuine word for raisin exists. Just cobble together a couple of Latin sounding words, it’s what the scholars do. I would make it 3rd declension and feminine though. ……astaphis, astaphidis N (3rd) F is Pliny’s stab at it before the lava got him.
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Astaphidis it is, and now I’m headed for higher ground, even though Cornwall isn’t known for its volcanoes. You can’t be too careful. It could’ve been the astaphidis that set the whole thing off.
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Too funny! Leave it to university students to come up with obscure traditions!
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As far as I can tell, it’s an unbroken tradition, so they wouldn’t have had to come up with it. But leave it to university students to take it in even more bizarre directions.
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Indeed!
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Thank you for telling me the name of that berry. There are lots of them around this year. Apparently that means it will be a hard winter.
Students just do daft things. In the academic year before I went there (which was many decades ago), the students at my own hallowed institution elected a Dalek as president of the Guild of Students. You can probably tell from the use of the word ‘guild’ that it really wished it had been founded in the Middle Ages, rather than at the turn of the last century.
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I love stories like that. When I was in high school, a rumor went around that some city in South American elected a rhinocerous as mayor. I forget both the city and the country, but it had a repressive government at the time, meaning that protest was channeled in odd directions.
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There was a lot of it about at that particular point in history.
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OMG! I actually went to St Andrews University from 1983 to 1987 and had forgotten all about this. But then again I think I have a four year hole in my memory due to the enormous quantities of alcohol ingurgitated during that period. I do remember being dressed by my ´mother’ as a half nun-half slut. That’s where the memories end unfortunately….Thanks for the brain jolt, Ellen. Scary but interesting. 😬
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Well, that justifies my assumption that there’s a lot of alcohol associated with the event. I couldn’t see how it could survive if there weren’t.
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Yeppity yep. A lot!!
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Some things you just can’t do when you’re sober.
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You can’t make up this stuff! Now, I’ll be singing “Heard it Though the Grapevine” and seeing the dancing raisins in my head all night. Well, at least they skipped the foam. 😅
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That was the only ad I can think of that I unashamedly liked. What a great song.
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I feel the same way. Yes, a great song
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Love the commentary on such a fine tradition. LOL. Thanks for sharing.
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Just when I think I’ve exhausted the available insanity, I find something like this. It’s glorious.
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So here I sit, mouth agape. Really? This rivals Hasty Pudding at Harvard:). Where on earth do these crazy traditions come from–and how do they have so much staying power? I’m not a huge raisin fan but the foam fight sure sounds like fun!
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I think raisins have long since been shoved out of the event–or at least moved to the far edges–so you’d be safe.
Where this stuff comes from is an interesting question. It’s not that crazy stuff doesn’t happen in the U.S.–and I have to assume elsewhere–but somehow it’s less likely to be repeated for several hundred years. A bunch of kids get drunk and move a Volkswagen to the third floor of whatever school they’re enrolled in? Okay, it’s been known to happen, but the next year it doesn’t happen again.
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Oh my – illegal raisin receipts! How funny! Thanks for sharing with us at The Blogger’s Pit Stop!
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My pleasure. Thanks for what you do in keeping it going.
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Lots of informative conversation!
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Thank you. The conversation’s the best part.
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i agree, and si I always read every conversation too.
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