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The exam results arrived in the mail today.
It’s right there in front of me as I type.
I hesitate tearing open the envelope.
Will I head home in disgrace? Or will I actually be able to enter a university here in England, and study Law as instructed by my brother the Regent?
Memories of the last year or so are whizzing thru my mind:
- My voyage to England via that cargo ship, most of the time on which I was beset by fevers no thanks to the malaria I’d contracted.
- My first year, living in a typical English village: getting to know the life here but not making much progress studies-wise
- Moving to Cambridge upon getting reassigned to another Tutor who finally managed to help me, getting me to study really hard.
- Sitting for the Littlego late last summer.
Ah yes, what weird names these British people come up with. The Littlego - the examination that determines whether you gain entry into university here.
The results of which are in that envelope, right in front of me.
I still dare not open the envelope.
Not when this conversation, which took place immediately after the English Essay paper, is still all too fresh in my head:Tutor: So, how did it go?
Me: (grinning, confident) I think it went pretty well.
Tutor: What topic did you choose? Cobbett’s Rural Rides *was* a choice, wasn’t it? That’s the safe choice I’d coached you on, after all…
Me: Yes, yes, Rural Rides was one of the choices… but…
Tutor: (sinking feeling) But what?
Me: Well, this other topic caught my eye… and besides, I know Rural Rides almost by heart by now, it would have been boring for me to write about it.
Tutor: (eyes wide and panicked) What other topic? What did you choose?
Me: “An International Language”
Tutor: (starting to hyperventilate) Pray tell, what do you know about Esperanto?
Me: Esperanto? What’s that? I wrote about English lah!
Tutor: Yes, Esperanto! That is the “international language” to which the examiners referred!
Me: (feeling a bit sheepish) Well, I didn’t know anything about that, I’ve never head of it. To me, English is the international language. All you Mat Salleh’s speak it, don’t you?
Tutor: You are *so* going to fail this paper!
And here I am, a few months later.
Okay.... I'm reaching for the envelope.
I tear open the envelope.
I pull out the slip of paper.
Can I believe my eyes???
Wow, that was close! Looks like I’d obtained very high marks for all the OTHER papers, so I was allowed a Pass for the whole examination. Phew!!!
Now to get a place in a good university….
(UPDATE: Have been accepted as an undergraduate in St Catherine’s College: one of the seventeen colleges that form the University of Cambridge! Wahooooooo!)(*lynne*'s note: This was written in 1922)
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(NOTE: posting this at 10pm on Monday 10th April 2006, which translates to Monday 9am US CST. Yes, that's a 13hr time difference. Just for the record :D)