China’s college entry test is an obsession

China may be changing at head-twirling speed,but the ritual of the gao kao remains as immutable as chopsticks. One Chinese saying compares the exam to a stampede of “a thousand soldiers and 10 horses across a single log bridge”.

The Chinese test is in some ways like the American SAT,except that it lasts more than twice as long. The nine-hour test is offered just once a year and is the sole determinant for admission to virtually all Chinese colleges and universities.

Families pull out all the stops to optimise their children’s scores. In Sichuan Province,students studied in a hospital,hooked up to oxygen containers,in hopes of improving their concentration. Some girls take contraceptives so they won’t get their periods during the exam. Some well-off parents dangle the promise of fabulous rewards for offspring whose scores get them into a top-ranked university: parties,100,000 renminbi in cash,or about $14,600,or better.

“My father even promised me,if I get into a college like Nankai University in Tianjin,‘I’ll give you a prize,an Audi’,” said Chen Qiong,a 17-year-old girl taking the exam in Beijing.

Outside the exam sites,parents keep vigil for hours. A tardy arrival is disastrous. One student who arrived four minutes late in 2007 was turned away,even though she and her mother knelt before the exam proctor,begging for leniency.

Cheating is increasingly sophisticated. One group of parents last year outfitted their children with tiny earpieces,persuaded a teacher to fax them the questions and then transmitted the answers by cellphone. Another father equipped a student with a mini-scanner and had nine teachers on standby to provide the answers. In all,2,645 cheaters were caught last year.

Critics complain that the gao kao illustrates the flaws in an education system that stresses memorisation over independent thinking and creativity.

But the national obsession with the test also indicates progress.

China now has more than 1,900 institutions of higher learning,nearly double the number in 2000. Close to 19 million students are enrolled,a six-fold jump in one decade.

Liu Qichao,19,plans to be the first in his family to go to college. “There just were not a lot of universities then,” said his father,Liu Jie,who graduated from high school in 1980 and sells textile machinery. His son harbours hopes of getting into one of China’s top universities.

But the whole family was shaken by the results of his first try at the gao kao last June.

The night before the exam,he lingered at his parents’ bedside,unable to sleep for hours. “I was so nervous during the exam my mind went blank,” he said. He scored 432 points out of a possible 750,too low to be admitted even to a second-tier institution.

Silence reigned in the house for days afterward. “My mother was very angry,” he said. “She said,‘All these years of raising you and washing your clothes and cooking for you,and you earn such a bad score’.”

“I cried for half a month.”

There was a new plan: He would enroll in a military-style boarding school in Tianjin,devoting himself exclusively to test preparation,and retake the test this June. Despite the annual school fee of 38,500 renminbi ($5,640) — well above the average annual income for a Chinese family — he had plenty of company.

One of his classmates,Li Yiran,a cheerful 18-year-old,estimated that more than one-fourth of the seniors at their secondary school,Yangcun No. 1 Middle School,were “restudy” students.

Li said she learned the hard way about the school’s strict regimen. When her cellphone rang in class one day,the teacher smashed it against the radiator. Classes continue for three weeks straight,barely interrupted by a one-day break.

Hours after they finished the test on Monday,both students had collected the answers from the district education bureau and begun the laborious process,with the help of their teachers,of estimating their scores.

Liu calculated that his score leaped by more than 100 points over last year’s dismal performance. But he was still downcast,uncertain whether he would make the cutoff to apply to top-tier universities. The cutoff mark can vary by an applicant’s place of residence and ethnicity.

Li,on the other hand,was exhilarated by her estimate of 482.5,figuring it was probably high enough for admittance to a college of the second rank.

By Wednesday evening,both were buoyed by news of the cutoff scores for their district. His estimated mark was well above the one needed to apply to first-tier schools,and hers was a solid five points above the notch for the second tier.