VIII.viii. Postponed

"Is not, indeed, every man a student?"
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"You're practically Bolognese now," Professor Cavina said as we spoke during intermission at the Teatro Manzoni, a real lieu de rencontre for the local upper crust, that segment of Bolognese society that still speaks in the elegant, rounded accents inherited from the ecclesiastical governors of distant times past. We had been enjoying a performance by Andras Schiff, a world-renowned pianist who was on the program tonight as part of the Bologna festival, a perpetuation of the city's long heritage of musical appreciation.
    I had had an interesting day. The exam I had been scheduled to take that morning had been postponed, in a typical act of total disregard for student time, for six days. The entire ritual of student evaluations here, in fact, is one that borders on the absurd. An opportunity to take an exam is known as an appello, and is offered approximately once a month, at the professor's discretion. Of course, these oral exams can be taken repeatedly until a mark acceptable to the student has been achieved, so technically they ought to be stress-free. For us foreign students who can't afford to spend seven years doing a first degree, they are a nerve-racking experience, especially, as in this case, the first time along. After signing up in advance to be on the list, the student has to arrive at the appello as soon as it begins, usually in the morning. The names are called out, and anyone who is not present is removed from the list. Then, the presiding assistant sets out a schedule for the exam, ranging anywhere from a few hours to several days. It is then the student's responsibility to be present when his or her turn comes. This requirement means gauging how long others will take in the exam, and nervously waiting around in decrepit hallways for countless, needlessly wasted hours. There is no set time for each student. In my case, the assistant was kind enough to inform us that only fifteen students would be examined today, and that the rest would have to return the following Tuesday. I was number seventeen. At any rate, he added, the fifteen wouldn't be able to take the exam until after lunch, as the Professor had another class to teach. Why the exam had been booked on a day when the Professor had a class was beyond question. I left, infuriated, feeling even worse for those who had wasted an entire preparing to take the exam.
    The reason why student evaluation practice is so byzantine here stems not from a lack of resources, but instead from a totally outdated contanentalist notion of the Administrator's Supremacy. Keeping a hundred odd students waiting for half an hour while finishing lunch, answering cell phones while giving lectures, arbitrarily postponing exams, these are all insults to the student's time and energy, and are rewarded with requisite apathy. What's given is gotten.
    If Professor Cavina was right, then my integration into Bolognese society had come hand in hand with the inefficiencies, the injustices, and the frustration that necessarily accompanies life in such a wonderful place.