The Days China Goes Quiet for an Exam — Epoche A2
Every year in early June, Chinese cities turn their volume down, and the reason is an exam. The gaokao, the national university entrance examination, begins on 7 June across the whole country — one fixed date everywhere, two days in most provinces, longer in some. More than twelve million students sit it each year. Around them, for those days, ordinary city life politely rearranges itself. First, the streets. Near every exam site the signs go up: no horns. Police close some roads, and volunteer drivers carry students to the gates for free. Second, the nights. During the exam season, construction sites are ordered to stop noisy work at night, so that students can sleep. A crane stands still because seventeen-year-olds nearby need rest — a published rule, renewed each June. Third, the mothers. On the first morning, many mothers wear a qipao to see their child off. The dress's name begins with qi , the first word of an old saying about winning as soon as the flag rises. Few believe the magic; many wear the dress. Last June I stood outside a school gate at nine in the morning, and I heard the quietest street of the year. A country can be read by what it silences itself for. Here, for two days each June, it is an exam paper.