My University Day Another drowsy Wednesday morning, we found out our seats and sat down. It is funny to see everyone with a blank face after they were pulled from the sweet beds. Here came BringÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs voice: ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂGosh! How I miss my bed! AhÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ¦ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ---SheÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs yawning, and made everyone near her do the same thing.
ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂLingÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ¦.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ The bell rang. Just at that time, Mr. Wang, our translation teacher came in. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂHey,ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ my deskmate murmured, ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂour teachers are never late for class, but never early for class too.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂYes, but better than we are, arenÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt they?ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ I replied. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂHow come?ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ I smiled: ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ See, here is the answer.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ Several boy students rushed in and said sorry for their being late. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂBecause we are never early for class, but always late for it.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ I said.
Mr. Wang put out a heap of handouts and this action brought in a moment of chaos. Too much translation to do?! ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂDonÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt worry, weÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂll finish it in class.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ
Then a long, boring course was ready to begin.
But before that there was an interesting call-over time. University teachers seldom do this, especially the male teachers. But today it is an exception! ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂCall my name, call my name.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ We always relate to this song when the call-over happens. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂWays? Where is Ways? Absent?ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂSick.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ---A boy, WaysÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ roommate replied. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂReally? Oh, I see.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ A smile flashed on Mr. WangÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs face and he made a note on WaysÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ name. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂOkay, next. Billy? WhereÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs Billy?ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂSickÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ---All of us, boys and girls, replied together and it made ourselves laugh out at the same time. ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂAh, I see.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ Mr. Wang repeated the words automatically.
With no doubt, that was a best way to wake my brain up. I tried my best to listen to the teacher but from time to time my attention was distracted by the dream I had dreamed of last night. Mr. WangÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs hypnotic voice could always make us all back to the wonderful dreams. Some of my classmates began to nod their heads, and then bent their backs, ready to put their faces on the desks. But it seemed that they were also struggling to pull their back straight again. After several ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂnoddingsÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ, they surrendered totally and their faces were glued on the desks again. It reminded me of the days in highschool. When anyone of us was sleepy on the physics course, the young teacher who was also our best friends would throw a piece of chalk to his head, and then he would ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂapologizeÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ: ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂOh, sorry, my chalk gets drunk.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ Then we burst out laughs and were waked up again. But it seems impossible for the university teachers to do so, and they donÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt care even if you sleep in their classes. ItÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs not polite to sleep in class, so I always struggle with my eyelids in case they would close up out of my control. And luckily most of the times I win them over.
But winning over the eyelids doesnÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt mean I can beat the boredom down. When there was a time that we need some fresh air out of the classroom, the best choice (or the best excuse) is to go to the washroom. Men would go there for a cigarette to give themselves a lift. Girls would go there, standing in front of the mirror and combing their hair. ItÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs a way to refresh ourselves.
Sometimes this method is not available. After the long, boring translation course was over, there came the class of international trade practice. Miss Huang would ban all of us go out of the classroom during the class time. I hate this regulation. And most of us donÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt like her very much not only for her unreasonable rule, but also because of her strong ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂChinglishÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ(Chinese English) accent, and that pronunciation is awful! I will show you how. Miss Huang always pronounces the word ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂagainÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ as ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂagunÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ, and then we made this word ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂagunÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ as her nickname. Hard to imagine that how university students are sometimes as mischievous as the primary school pupils. We also share the same things with the primary pupils. When we were still little boys and girls, we got out a conclusion that if we donÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt like a teacher, hence we show no interests in the course he gives. This ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂtheoryÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ also works in our university days. Shame on us: Most of us did a not-so-good job in the final exam on international trade practice. But I always tell myself IÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂm learning for myself, not for anyone else, and whatÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs more, IÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂm a university student now! So I should be much more mature than I was in the elementary school. If now the ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂtheoryÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ still works on me, I should feel ashamed. Actually I did feel ashamed.
But when we meet with some interesting courses, there is another totally different story. In the afternoon of the same day, we like to attend Miss KangÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs course, because she just behaves like our peer although sheÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs now more than 30 years old. She entered the classroom like an easy breeze, dressed with casual wears. Her voice was so magical that it could attract our attention without effort. In her class she never made her students bored, and we seldom feel stressful and therefore we expressed ourselves freely. We talked about life, thoughts, dreams, hobbies, and she would exchange her special experiences with us. She knows our hearts: As university students, we long for having the teachers or professors with their own individualized personality, because we have already been educated in a theoretical, monotonous way during the past 12 years, before we enter the university. As generation-X, we are interested in everything new and stylish, and we are apt to accept them. We are seeking for knowledge and also we are eager to have a different way of life. We need the teachers who can understand us well instead of the stereotyped ones.
We feel so lucky that we are in a university for language studying. ItÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs an amazing experience because we have the chance to learn a second foreign language. The last course in Wednesday is one of my most favorite. They say girls, especially girls who learn language and literature are as romantic as a rose. I canÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt agree more. In the second foreign language learning, we would choose a special sentence as a starting point. Even the teacher knows the ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂconventionÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ well, so when he gave us the first course he put ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂJe tÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂaimeÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ on the blackboard and then told us:ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ DonÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂt ask me how to speak ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ I love youÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ in France. IÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂve already told you.ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ Yes, that is our ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂstarting pointÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ. Then at the night girls would gather together and tell others how to pronounce ÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂI love youÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ in different languages:in Japanese, in German, in Spainish, in Russian, in KoreanÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂ¦ Before I fall asleep at night, I always recollect what IÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂve done in the daytime. Did I do something good or bad? Do I satisfy with the whole day? if not, itÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂs ok, because tomorrow is another day! It will be better, IÃÂ¢ÃÂÃÂm sure.