My Dormitory Life
Compared with the forty year old shabby dormitory I am living in now, the one I lived in for three years in high school was heaven: three students shared one brand new suite with air conditioners and a bathroom.
In three years time we changed it thoroughly:the color of the floor turned from bright pink into muddy gray, and the closet a hive of insects proliferating among piles of rotten fruit.And our masterpiece was the bathroom, a never drying swamp which served as the habitat of various kinds of mold, and even rodents, rats would occasionally take the trouble to pay us a visit, and.., all three of us felt like sobbing when we at last had to say good bye to our lovely filthy dormitory. Maybe it is because that the dormitory had changed us as well as we＇d changed it.
The first lesson our dormitory taught us was to look after ourselves. Frankly speaking, we were not good students at all. I still remember the underwear that was soaked in soapy water for one and a half years before it was finally thrown away. Almost each of the boys＇ dormitories had gradually developed its own unique "fragrance" usually a mixture of rotten fruit, unwashed socks, stunk towels and some junk food. We could tell one dormitory from another by sniffing instead of looking. Our tolerance towards untidiness was amazing.
However, in spite of all this, we really did make some progress. Bit by bit, we started to wash dirty clothes before they stunk, cleaned the garbage bin when it could hold no more trash, we even used brushes in a not-sc-successful attempt to refurbish the floor. The point was that we were not obeying any order, we did every bit of the cleaning for ourselves, because we wanted to live in a better place. Though nothing we did could be called an achievement, it was the first time we fully bore the consequences of our behavior, and took the responsibility.
Thus it was not surprising that I often found myself the only one to clean up my university dormitory which looked no
In three years time we changed it thoroughly:the color of the floor turned from bright pink into muddy gray, and the closet a hive of insects proliferating among piles of rotten fruit.And our masterpiece was the bathroom, a never drying swamp which served as the habitat of various kinds of mold, and even rodents, rats would occasionally take the trouble to pay us a visit, and.., all three of us felt like sobbing when we at last had to say good bye to our lovely filthy dormitory. Maybe it is because that the dormitory had changed us as well as we＇d changed it.
The first lesson our dormitory taught us was to look after ourselves. Frankly speaking, we were not good students at all. I still remember the underwear that was soaked in soapy water for one and a half years before it was finally thrown away. Almost each of the boys＇ dormitories had gradually developed its own unique "fragrance" usually a mixture of rotten fruit, unwashed socks, stunk towels and some junk food. We could tell one dormitory from another by sniffing instead of looking. Our tolerance towards untidiness was amazing.
However, in spite of all this, we really did make some progress. Bit by bit, we started to wash dirty clothes before they stunk, cleaned the garbage bin when it could hold no more trash, we even used brushes in a not-sc-successful attempt to refurbish the floor. The point was that we were not obeying any order, we did every bit of the cleaning for ourselves, because we wanted to live in a better place. Though nothing we did could be called an achievement, it was the first time we fully bore the consequences of our behavior, and took the responsibility.
Thus it was not surprising that I often found myself the only one to clean up my university dormitory which looked no