Gazette & Herald columnist HANNAH GIBBONS muses on the difficulties - and the hilarities - of attending a "religious" school.

GOING to a "religious" school isn't without its perils (I put religious in speech marks because until recently the term was used very loosely indeed) - it's not all tolerance and slack uniform codes.

Since starting the sixth-form, however, I've been made acutely aware of my school's Quaker standing - a half-hour weekly slot of silence, as is customary of the Quaker faith, certainly seems to labour the point well. The concept is quite a sweet one, 150 17 and 18-year-olds maturely contemplating life and such things in 30 precious minutes of calm amongst the stress of all those exams.

But let me assure you - there is no calm in a room forced to shut up after a big lunch and a noisy 20-minute walk in the fresh air to get there. I ask you - is there anything in the world funnier than the gurgling tummy of a person sitting next to you? No? Imagine being continuously on the brink of laughter, knowing that the slightest after-lunch rumble will send you over the edge and at the same time conscious that there are half a dozen teachers waiting to glare at you at the slightest hint of a suppressed snort of a giggle. And even if you manage to avoid the bodily function hilarity, the next hurdle is the intense comedy derived from listening to smug do-gooders reflecting out loud on the current state of the world (as is encouraged if we feel "moved" to say something). Generally, the only thing moving me is the shaking of someone else's shoulders, setting off another frowned-upon chain of laughter for no good reason.

But I can just about deal with this type of religious exposure (through a carefully worked out distraction plan of thinking of sad things like dying bunnies).

However, I swear I had an overload with a recent talk in school from a nun, who had given up a fianc for God, which, depending on the bloke, seems to me like quite a smart idea. But, although I admire her vocation, there's something a little disconcerting about someone devoting their whole lives to a single, quite narrow field, not to mention just a tad tedious for having to forfeit an hour of our free time to listen. I thought I'd have fun with the old girl in question time (no, I was not the one to question her about her vows of chastity) and enquired as to her opinions on women priests. Her fleeting horror convinced me not to go for the kill (that is, the gay issue) and I left the dear to recover.

So, although the merits of religion are vast, I don't doubt, sometimes, perhaps, it would be easier to go to a technological school or a musical college instead - no silence there, I suppose.

Updated: 11:44 Tuesday, March 08, 2005