Ques: What would you do you're driving past hundreds of citrus trees. With a better look, they're mandarins, or, more precisely clementines. On the roadside is a truck selling crates of them for 1 euro a kilo. You stop, right? And buy a crate of 10 kilos. Even though you have to get on a plane the next day. I couldn't help myself. Marco, who I had already made turn 180 degrees to drive back to the truck, gave me that look of disapproval when I want to do something totally unreasonable like impulse buy citrus fruit that we can't keep. "What are we going to do with these?" He questioned. I wasn't sure. I wanted to taste them, I wanted to photograph them. And maybe I could even squeeze some of them into our tiny bag to take home. "It won't be a waste, I'll give the rest away!" I reasoned. He just shook his head, giving in. I bought them, a big grin on my face. We were just outside the port city of Taranto, on the western coast of Puglia in Italy's deep south, where we spent a long weekend recently and where clementines have special IGP (Protected Geographical Indication) status. These clementines a hybrid of oranges and mandarins grow in the fertile soil around the gulf of Taranto, particularly around the town of Palagiano (also known as "the city of clementines" they celebrate the symbol of their city with a sagra, a food festival, every December) and the delicate fruit is harvested by hand. We don't get these in Florence, it was my only chance to taste them they are small with very few, if any, seeds, and they are very sweet. Where did the narrator and Marco probably go after the end of the story? A. Back to the roadside seller B. Back home C. Back to Taranto D. not enough information
Ans: B

Ques: I showed up at the address on Columbine's invitation just before eleven; it was a converted warehouse in an industrial zone on the city's north side. Since it was a Saturday night, everything else was empty for miles. The parking lot was filled with sports cars, hybrids, and shiny suburban tanks. The door facing the parking lot was open, spilling out muted lights and the din of yuppie chatter. It cast a somewhat foreboding aura over the entrance. The first thing I noticed as I approached was the beefy refrigerator in a rented tux blocking the doorway. The second thing was the surveillance camera perched on the wall above his head. I had stopped home and changed first, so I was sure I was dressed mostly appropriately for some rich faux-hipster art party - charcoal gray pinstripe jacket over a TV on the Radio t-shirt, skinny cuffed jeans, Docs, and a black fedora. I certainly didn't look any worse than the other idiots I saw filing in and out of the door. I even had an invitation. So I was fairly confident I'd be able to gain admission to this thing without incident. "No, absolutely not," the doorman said, pressing a meaty palm into my chest. "I was invited!" I said, exasperated. "I have documentation." I waved the rave card in front of his face. "No dice." I stepped aside to let a couple of aging goths through the door and wondered for a moment if the doorman somehow knew who I was. Then I noticed the ear piece he was wearing and my eyes darted back to the surveillance camera. "Motherfucker," I spat and raised both arms to flip off the camera. I didn't know it at the time, but at that moment Dylan Maxwell was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, laughing his ass off. How long has the narrator known Dylan Maxwell? A. not enough information B. One month. C. One year. D. They met just before eleven
Ans: A

Ques: A funeral for Zbigniew Brzezinski, the national security adviser to President Jimmy Carter and a noted foreign policy expert and thinker, will be held Friday at St. Matthew's Roman Catholic Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Brzezinski died May 26 in Virginia. He was 86. In a statement, Carter called Brzezinski "a superb public servant" as well as "brilliant, dedicated and loyal." Along with Henry Kissinger, Brzezinski helped shape U.S. foreign policy with a lasting impact, while also serving as an adviser to Presidents Lyndon Johnson and John F. Kennedy. One of his most well-known accomplishments came in 1978, when Brzezinski helped President Carter reach an agreement between Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian President Anwar Sadat to secure the Camp David peace accords between the two countries. He also was involved in making other major U.S. foreign policy decisions during the Carter administration, including negotiating the Panama Canal Treaty, arming mujahedin in Afghanistan to fight the Soviet invaders and planning a failed mission to rescue 52 American hostages held in Iran. Alexander Vershbow, a former deputy secretary general of NATO and former U.S. ambassador to Russia, told VOA Brzezinski's wisdom also guided U.S. and NATO policy in the post-Cold War period. "On one hand, listening to the appeals of countries like Poland, like Czechoslovakia, like Hungary, to become part of the Western family, which they were denied 70 years ago ... but also reaching out to Russia, and trying to help Russia become an integral part of the European family, the common European house, as [former Soviet leader Mikhail] Gorbachev described it," Vershbow said. Following his work in the White House, Brzezinski continued to be an influential voice on foreign policy matters. He served as a counselor and trustee at the Center for Strategic and International Studies and a professor at Johns Hopkins University. Brzezinski went on to ruffle the feathers of Washington's power elite with his 1983 book, "Power and... Who made it on their own terms? A. Gorbachev B. Carter C. Brzezinski D. not enough information
Ans: C

Ques: Manny had Bob Marley cranking on the stereo, his van was full of passengers, and the air conditioning was working after a long week of giving him trouble. The sun beat down on the wet-looking asphalt road that ran along the harbor, next to the concrete waterfront. It curved along in front of the brightly colored Dutch Colonial warehouses of Charlotte Amalie, which were now converted restaurants and jewel shops. Tourists in day-glo shirts and daubs of sunscreen rubbed over peeling skin crowded both sides of the waterfront road. Manny slowed somewhat, keeping an eye on them. On the sidewalk by the shops a tall black man stood by a food cart. The hand-painted wooden sign hanging from the cart's side had faded letters. The man wore a grand suit with tails, like an orchestra conductor, and a top hat perched on his shaved head. A cigar burned in his mouth. For a brief second he held Manny's attention. Then the food cart's owner stepped forward and the strangely dressed man disappeared. Manny looked at the other side of the road. A white girl with oval shaped sunglasses and pink leather pants stepped off the sidewalk into the road in front of his van. He slammed on the brakes, trying to dodge her, but the van couldn't respond that fast. Her ponytail flew up towards the windshield and her head struck the star-shaped hood ornament. She bounced along the asphalt. Manny weaved the van to a stop, with swearing from the passengers in the back. He opened the door and stepped out into the heat. Get up, stand up, the radio cried out, and that was what Manny hoped would happen. He hoped that she would at least just stir and be okay. But she just lay there. Who smoked a cigar? A. the tall black man B. not enough information C. the girl D. Manny
Ans:
A