Reading Passage 1 Wonder Plant The wonder plant with an uncertain future More than a billion people rely on bamboo for either their shelter or income, while many endangered species depend on it for their survival. Despite its apparent abundance, a new report says that many species of bamboo may be under serious threat. Section A Every year, during the rainy season, the mountain gorillas of Central Africa migrate to the foothills and lower slopes of the Virunga Mountains to graze on bamboo. For the 650 or so that remain in the wild, it’s a vital food source. Although they eat almost 150 types of plants, as well as various insects and other invertebrates, at this time of year bamboo accounts for up to 90 percent of their diet. Without it, says Ian Redmond, chairman of the Ape Alliance, their chances of survival would be significantly reduced. Gorillas aren’t the only locals keen on bamboo. For the people who live close to the Virungas, it’s a valuable and versatile raw material used for building houses and making household items such as mats and baskets. But in the past 100 years or so, resources have come under increasing pressure as populations

When I was a kid, I wasn’t exactly a rule-follower. I was more of a curious explorer—the kind who dabbled in homemade explosives. It all started one evening while I was watching the news. A story came on about Thai farmers using explosive compounds to force longan trees to bear fruit early. Vietnam, they said, planned to import the formula. A wild idea sparked in my mind: “Maybe I can use that to make a rocket.” A few months later, my parents brought home several kilos of the chemical for their farm. When they weren’t around, I carefully took a small amount, placed it on the ground, and lit it with a bamboo stick from a distance. It fizzled. No fireworks. Just a slow burn. I told my friends. One suggested mixing it with charcoal powder. After school, I tried his idea. That mixture burned faster and threw off sparks. Still no bang—but it was progress. Then another friend came in with a new idea: add a green powder he’d found at a Chinese medicine shop. He said it was powerful. I gave it a try, and boom. A real explosion. That’s when I realized things had become dangerous. But

Last year, I took my mother to the Tet flower market with one simple mission: buy some marigolds. Every year, the authorities set up the market about 10 days before Tet, which usually falls at the end of January or early February depending on the lunar calendar. The city square fills with flowers, colors, and the unmistakable scent of spring. That morning, the air was a bit chilly, but by afternoon the sun warmed things up just enough to make it a pleasant day for walking. Many trees were already in bloom, carrying the familiar fragrances of the Tet season. We thought we’d be in and out quickly, but of course, the universe had other plans. When we arrived, trucks were blocking the main entrance to the square. We had to take a small detour and found a side road that led us in. That unexpected route turned out to be a happy accident. Tucked away near the side entrance was a small exhibition of fruit tree seedlings. Farmers from Tien Giang and nearby provinces were showcasing new fruit tree varieties. Each kiosk had a tidy setup—saplings in pots, photos of the mature trees, bamboo baskets holding fruit samples, and

To be honest, I used to be very absent-minded. As a result, I lost many things in the past. One time, my bike was stolen, and what happened afterward was even worse. One day, my friends and I went to a government office to get our paperwork stamped. At that time, we were young and naive. Instead of parking in the designated lot, we left our bikes right in front of the office, thinking that nobody would dare steal them under the officers’ noses. Shockingly, the opposite happened. When we finished our paperwork, my bike was gone. I couldn’t understand why someone had chosen mine—it was the ugliest and cheapest of the three bikes. I went back inside and told the officers what had happened, but they couldn’t do much to help. Feeling sad and worried, I went home with my friends. When I told my parents, they advised me to be more careful. Since we didn’t have much money, I couldn’t get a new bike right away. For the next few months, I walked several kilometers to school every day, hoping a friend would pass by and give me a lift. Then, one day during class, the principal walked