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 Bring’s voice: “Gosh! How I miss my bed! Ah…”---She’s yawning, and made everyone near her do the same thing.
“Ling….” The bell rang. Just at that time, Mr. Wang, our translation teacher came in. “Hey,” my deskmate murmured, “our teachers are never late for class, but never early for class too.” “Yes, but better than we are, aren’t they?” I replied. “How come?” I smiled: “ See, here is the answer.” Several boy students rushed in and said sorry for their being late. “Because we are never early for class, but always late for it.” I said.
Mr. Wang put out a heap of handouts and this action brought in a moment of chaos. Too much translation to do?! “Don’t worry, we’ll finish it in class.” 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! “Call my name, call my name.” We always relate to this song when the call-over happens. “Ways? Where is Ways? Absent?” “Sick.”---A boy, Ways’ roommate replied. “Really? Oh, I see.” A smile flashed on Mr. Wang’s face and he made a note on Ways’ name. “Okay, next. Billy? Where’s Billy?” “Sick”---All of us, boys and girls, replied together and it made ourselves laugh out at the same time. “Ah, I see.” 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. Wang’s 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 “noddings”, 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 “apologize”: “Oh, sorry, my chalk gets drunk.” Then we burst out laughs and were waked up again. But it seems impossible for the university teachers to do so, and they don’t care even if you sleep in their classes. It’s 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 doesn’t 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...