Writing Test 23

[passage-header]Read the passage and answer the question that follows:
Matsupaa - The Magic Remains[/passage-header]    Dawn has not yet broken over the horizon, but Rosita is crossing the border. Rosita is a matsu woman. Her land, Matsupaa, lies partly in Ghana, and partly in Congo. Matsupaa has its own flag, language, traditions and festivals, but it is divided by an international border. Rosita crosses the border frequently to get from one part of her country to another, but she needs a special visa every time and it sometimes takes her forever to reach another part of her own country.
    Today Rosita is making the crossing from her village Onista to the capital city Maru to attend the annual Matsupaa Kingdom Day. There will be a carnival, and the atmosphere is likely to be raucous and mad as most carnivals are. People in their ancestral costume of large billowing gowns, silver plated shirts and clanging, chunky bracelets move around noisily. Youngsters usually borrow their grandparents' clothes!
    One of Matsupaa's celebrity citizens is Mopar Magutsu. He is active in the movement to save Matsu cultural identity. More and more young people are leaving Matsupaa for the west and Mopar wants to prevent his culture from dying out. He holds a lot of cultural programmes to initiate the young into the rich and colourful Matsu past. The future is bright only when we know the past with pride - is Mopar's firm belief.
    Meanwhile, Rosita has reached the capital with her basket of knick-knacks and handcrafted pots and pans. She hopes to make a killing with the ever-present tourists.

[passage-header]Read the passage and answer the question that follows:
Matsupaa - The Magic Remains[/passage-header]    Dawn has not yet broken over the horizon, but Rosita is crossing the border. Rosita is a matsu woman. Her land, Matsupaa, lies partly in Ghana, and partly in Congo. Matsupaa has its own flag, language, traditions and festivals, but it is divided by an international border. Rosita crosses the border frequently to get from one part of her country to another, but she needs a special visa every time and it sometimes takes her forever to reach another part of her own country.
    Today Rosita is making the crossing from her village Onista to the capital city Maru to attend the annual Matsupaa Kingdom Day. There will be a carnival, and the atmosphere is likely to be raucous and mad as most carnivals are. People in their ancestral costume of large billowing gowns, silver plated shirts and clanging, chunky bracelets move around noisily. Youngsters usually borrow their grandparents' clothes!
    One of Matsupaa's celebrity citizens is Mopar Magutsu. He is active in the movement to save Matsu cultural identity. More and more young people are leaving Matsupaa for the west and Mopar wants to prevent his culture from dying out. He holds a lot of cultural programmes to initiate the young into the rich and colourful Matsu past. The future is bright only when we know the past with pride - is Mopar's firm belief.
    Meanwhile, Rosita has reached the capital with her basket of knick-knacks and handcrafted pots and pans. She hopes to make a killing with the ever-present tourists.

[passage-header]Read the passage and answer the question that follows:[/passage-header]    Among the old Tedas, it was customary for certain tribesmen to dress in the skins of the beasts they had slain, and thus to give themselves a fearsome air of brutality, which was calculated to strike dread into the hearts of their foes. Of course, it's a fair guess that a cheetah or bison skin would make a warm, comfortable outer coat for a man whose life was in the most brutal of conditions atop ridges.
    Many legends tell of these cavemen-like soldiers, also known as Badangas, and folklore has it that they were physically transformed into the beasts whose skins they wore. The most common animals that the warriors were transformed into were the bull-tiger and leopard. Rumours suggest that the skins carried the power of the beasts and, when worn, turned the wearer into that animal at the height of its capabilities. The fact is that no one has ever set sight on a Badanga in the flesh.
    The Badanga was an object of sheer horror, as his life's object was to challenge quiet villagers to a duel. As the then law of the land stood in the Teda tribe, a man who declined to accept a challenge from a Badanga forfeited all his worldly possessions, even his wife, over to the hands of his challenger. Therefore, the Badanga had any man he challenged at his mercy. If the Badanga slews him, the farmer's possessions became his, and if the poor fellow declined to fight, he lost all legal right to his property anyway. A Badanga would invite himself to any feast and contribute to the hilarity of the entertainment by killing in gory fashion any merrymaker who displeased him. He might even single one out to murder for no other reason than to practice his combat skills.
    It is not difficult to imagine that popular superstition went along with the popular dread of these animal-skinned aggressors and that they were believed to be filled with the force, as they certainly were with the ferocity, of the beasts whose skins they wore.
    In the unlikely event of a villager slaying a Badanga warrior, he was revered as a divine savior and had a temple devoted to him. It wasn't easy. Fire merely singed, a scythe landed a mere scratch, and a venomous spear just put him to sleep - what it took was a club made of the betel tree stump to fell this fiery warrior. Of course, it comes as no surprise that no one has heard of one such village victory yet. 

[passage-header][/passage-header]Akira came directly, breaking all tradition. Was that it? Had he followed form, had he asked his mother to speak to his father to approach a go-between would Chie have been more receptive? He came on a winters eve.
   He pounded on the door while a cold rain beat on the shuttered veranda, so at first Chie thought him only the wind. The maid knew better. Chie heard her soft scuttling footsteps, the creak of the door. Then the maid brought a calling card to the drawing room, for Chie.
   Chie was reluctant to go to her guest; perhaps she was feeling too cozy. She and Naomi were reading at a low table set atop a charcoal brazier. A thick quilt spread over the sides of the table so their legs were tucked inside with the heat.
   "Who is it at this hour, in this weather?" Chie questioned as she picked the name card off the maid's lacquer tray.
   "Shinoda, Akira. Kobe Dental College," she read.
   Naomi recognized the name. Chie heard a soft intake of air. 
   "I think you should go," said Naomi. 
   Akira was waiting in the entry. He was in his early twenties, slim and serious, wearing the black military-style uniform of a student. As he bowed his hands hanging straight down, black cap in one, a yellow oil-paper umbrella in the other--Chie glanced beyond him. In the glistening surface of the courtyards rain-drenched paving stones, she saw his reflection like a dark double.
   "Madame," said Akira, "forgive my disruption, but I come with a matter of urgency."
   His voice was soft, refined. He straightened and stole a deferential peek at her face.
   In the dim light, his eyes shone with sincerity. Chie felt herself starting to like him.
   "Come inside, get out of this nasty night. Surely your business can wait for a moment or two." 
   "I don't want to trouble you. Normally I would approach you more properly but I've received word of a position. I have an opportunity to go to America, as a dentist for Seattle's Japanese community." "Congratulations," Chie said with amusement. "That is an opportunity, I'm sure. But how am I involved?" 
   Even noting Naomi's breathless reaction to the name card, Chie had no idea. Akira's message, delivered like a formal speech, filled her with maternal amusement. You know how children speak so earnestly, so hurriedly, so endearingly about things that have no importance in an adults mind? That's how she viewed him, as a child.

[passage-header][/passage-header]Akira came directly, breaking all tradition. Was that it? Had he followed form, had he asked his mother to speak to his father to approach a go-between would Chie have been more receptive? He came on a winters eve.
   He pounded on the door while a cold rain beat on the shuttered veranda, so at first Chie thought him only the wind. The maid knew better. Chie heard her soft scuttling footsteps, the creak of the door. Then the maid brought a calling card to the drawing room, for Chie.
   Chie was reluctant to go to her guest; perhaps she was feeling too cozy. She and Naomi were reading at a low table set atop a charcoal brazier. A thick quilt spread over the sides of the table so their legs were tucked inside with the heat.
   "Who is it at this hour, in this weather?" Chie questioned as she picked the name card off the maid's lacquer tray.
   "Shinoda, Akira. Kobe Dental College," she read.
   Naomi recognized the name. Chie heard a soft intake of air. 
   "I think you should go," said Naomi. 
   Akira was waiting in the entry. He was in his early twenties, slim and serious, wearing the black military-style uniform of a student. As he bowed his hands hanging straight down, black cap in one, a yellow oil-paper umbrella in the other--Chie glanced beyond him. In the glistening surface of the courtyards rain-drenched paving stones, she saw his reflection like a dark double.
   "Madame," said Akira, "forgive my disruption, but I come with a matter of urgency."
   His voice was soft, refined. He straightened and stole a deferential peek at her face.
   In the dim light, his eyes shone with sincerity. Chie felt herself starting to like him.
   "Come inside, get out of this nasty night. Surely your business can wait for a moment or two." 
   "I don't want to trouble you. Normally I would approach you more properly but I've received word of a position. I have an opportunity to go to America, as a dentist for Seattle's Japanese community." "Congratulations," Chie said with amusement. "That is an opportunity, I'm sure. But how am I involved?" 
   Even noting Naomi's breathless reaction to the name card, Chie had no idea. Akira's message, delivered like a formal speech, filled her with maternal amusement. You know how children speak so earnestly, so hurriedly, so endearingly about things that have no importance in an adults mind? That's how she viewed him, as a child.