As sure as a wintry sunrise at Promontory Point, Kuvia is a staple of winter quarter at UChicago. Organized by the Council on University Programming (COUP), the weeklong festival has been a fixture of the coldest months for 43 years. Before our cold mornings recede into a cheerful spring, I dug into the Maroon‘s photo archives to see the ritual in action.
Kuvia began in 1983 and has since become a cherished tradition. The name comes from the Inuit word kuviasungnerk, translated as the “pursuit of happiness.” It was later combined with the series of early morning exercises organized by former Dean of the College Donald Levine known as kangeiko—a nod to Japanese winter training traditions—held during the same week. Together, the terms capture the spirit of the event: a cold-weather regimen that somehow feels liberating.

In its earlier years, Kuvia functioned more like a loosely themed winter festival. Programming lectures, movies, and outings like skiing. Run by the College Orientation Office, it functioned to give students something to look forward to during the bleakest stretch of the quarter. Over time, it has formalized into a more disciplined routine.

When COUP arose in 1994, it reoriented the festival into a student-driven event. Each morning now centers on the same yoga sequence, followed by a rotating set of activities hosted by different RSOs. An additional introduced constant is the incentive. A coveted T-shirt is earned by those who stick it out to the final day. Since at least 2004, student designers have competed to adorn the annual shirt with winter iconography.

There is an uneasy balance at the heart of Kuvia between wellness and tradition. Fourth-year Qian Fang Yeap, a repeat participant and COUP committee member, said the framing has shifted over time. In past years, “[we] would market Kuvia as a wellbeing initiative,” Yeap told me. Now, she argued, the health language seems inappropriate. “It makes no sense because it’s cold and you wake up so early,” she said. “It’s more of a tradition. You do it for the sake of doing it.”

The sun salutation is a rallying cry. Each day begins with the same set of movements, growing by an extra round as the week progresses. In unison, students clap their hands overhead in mountain poses. The sound ricochets across the track. This was not a room of people simply doing a yoga posture; it was a fully embodied performance. Downward Dog was followed by a chorus of barking. Cobra was followed with hissing.

On its last day, the event moves out of Henry Crown Field House and to the lakefront. This year, Dean of the College Melina Hale led the crowd through the sun salutation sequence on a carpet of fresh snow. The lakefront has long been the final landmark of Kuvia. Students have flocked to the Point, snow or shine, since at least 1985, as shown in photos dating back to then.

And always, some students take it a step further, sprinting to the edge of the Point and taking a polar plunge. The lake dip captures the tradition’s logic. The long-standing ritual of Kuvia may be built on extremity, but all are free to decide how far they would like to jump in.

Editor’s note, March 31, 10:45 p.m.: This article has been updated to more accurately reflect the origin of Kuvia.
