My Chinese Literature Teacher : The Great Resemblance Of A Dinner Bell

837 Words Oct 5th, 2015 4 Pages
The school bell had always been in great resemblance of a dinner bell, at least that is to me. I would be elated whenever the bell rang — as if I was served with a piece of grilled Filet mignon that is cooked medium rare, after a long day of work. I knew that as long as I could hear the bell ringing, I am guaranteed to have access to a plethora of new information, guaranteed to have teachers who would enlighten me with their knowledge, and I am guaranteed to an education, where approximately one hundred and one million people whom could not access. I am lucky, I am grateful.

The bell rang.

It seems that the line of thought I have developed is not applicable to me at this very moment. All I could ponder about was: for whom the bell tolls? The smile was no longer present on my now distressed face.

“You will have fifty minutes to complete the test. Please use your time wisely.”

My Chinese Literature teacher introduced the class to a poem three days ago, one that was so ancient and sophisticated that it sounded like Greek to all of us. She gave us a couple of minutes to skim through the poem. It was written in archaic Chinese, around nine hundred and sixty characters long, and was preceded by four more pages of analysis. I was astonished by the sheer complexity of the poem. Though it was evident that learning a literary piece such as this one would be a challenging process, I was still fueled with overwhelming excitement. As the class progressed, our teacher covered the…

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