B3U4~6課文重點標註

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a deceased loved one return and accompany you to a holiday celebration? The idea may scare you to death or at least make your hair stand on end, but this is the essential concept behind the Mexican festival called the Day of the Dead, when people celebrate death with joy and humor rather than mourn it with sorrow. On this joyous occasion, family members gather for a reunion in honor of those who have moved on to the afterlife.

The Day of the Dead is thought to have originated centuries ago with the Aztecs. Nowadays, it is celebrated passionately throughout Mexico on November 1 and 2. Traditionally, deceased children are honored on Nov. 1, while Nov. 2 is the day when departed adults are the main focus. During these two days, the souls of the dead are believed to return to earth to visit the living members of their family. Instead of fearing these spirits, Mexicans anticipate their arrival and prepare for it by purchasing necessary items in local markets in advance. These include marigolds, candles, decorated sugar skulls bearing the names of departed family members, and "bread of the dead." Families also tidy and restore the graves and cemeteries where their family members are buried to welcome the souls home.

On the Day of the Dead, families assemble colorful altars in their homes to welcome returning spirits. On the altars, they place photographs of their deceased loved ones as well as beverages and dishes that those family members had a preference for while alive. After this warm reception for the souls at home, it is usually late in the evening, and families head to the cemetery, where they decorate the graves of their loved ones and light one candle for each dead person. Cheerful and merry, they feast with the honored souls and pray till dawn, transforming the normally horrifying graveyard into a venue of joy and celebration for the entire night.

Throughout the festival, colorful, cartoon-like representations of the dead can be seen everywhere. These include skeleton and skull cookies, candies, flags, and toys. Many people also dress up in skeleton costumes, paint their faces to resemble skulls, and participate in performances and street parades. While doing so, Mexicans aren't mocking death. Instead, they are recognizing it as an inevitable part of the natural cycle and would rather embrace it than ignore it. By inviting the dead to return and sharing the pleasures of life with them, Mexicans are celebrating the cycle of life itself.

The Mexican Day of the Dead is an annual national event that brings together living hosts and non-living guests of honor. Hopefully, this tradition will never die out, since it helps people accept a fact of life that awaits us all. If we cannot escape death, why not celebrate it?

Kyoto, like a beauty in a bright and colorful kimono, delights tourists throughout the year. In spring, romance is in the air as the city is filled with a sea of pink cherry blossoms. In summer, green leaves can be heard rustling in the wind and seen sparkling in the sunshine. Maple leaves in autumn set the landscape on fire with orange and red colors. Then, when winter comes, white snow turns the whole city into a magic, silver kingdom.

Apart from its natural splendor, Kyoto has so much more to feast one's eyes on. Having previously been the capital of Japan for over a thousand years, the city boasts a large number of historic shrines and temples. No visit to Kyoto would be complete without seeing one of the most photographed landmarks: the Kinkaku-ji, or the Golden Pavilion Temple in English. With giant, leafy maple trees leading up to its main entrance, what comes into view is this magnificent three-story pavilion. Rising up behind a crystal-clear pond, it is covered in sparkling gold leaf and crowned with a large bronze phoenix on its shimmering roof. The reflection of the pavilion on the glassy surface of the pond is a breathtaking sight. Visitors can take a leisurely walk through the surrounding gardens and enjoy many stunning views of this beautiful structure.

Another unforgettable Kyoto sight involves coming face to face with one of the old capital's very special "persons of art," or geishas. These are women dressed in delicate kimonos with silk sleeves. Their distinctive white makeup, bright red lipstick, and elegant hairpins also make them easy to recognize. And it's not just their unique appearance that makes geishas stand out from the crowd. These highly skilled entertainers spend years mastering different musical instruments, songs, and literature. Of course, no "person of art" could be a true geisha without being able to perform the traditional kyomai dance. This ancient art combines slow music with very deliberate movements and often expresses very deep emotion.

In Kyoto, culture and natural beauty flow together like the graceful motions of kyomai. Regardless of the season, the city is a must-see destination for tourists seeking an authentic local experience. Those who visit are likely to end up falling in love with the heart of Japan.

Nuñez, an experienced mountaineer, was climbing up one of Ecuador's highest mountains when he lost his footing. He slid down a snowy slope and fell over a cliff edge, tumbling a great distance. Bruised and dazed, he found himself in a place cut off from the world.

Despite his injuries, Nuñez struggled to his feet and set off to explore. As he made his way through the unfamiliar land, he came upon an unusual village. The houses were unevenly painted, and all the roads leading to the houses had low walls alongside them. It didn't take long for Nuñez to realize that every villager was blind. Feeling superior to these sightless people, he thought to himself, "In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."

However, after spending time with the locals, he was amazed at their great knowledge. Though blind, they knew their mountain kingdom intimately. The villagers skillfully farmed and moved around by using their keen senses of hearing, touch, and smell. They also employed effective techniques for growing crops and caring for animals. The paths, lined with low walls, had been specially built to help them navigate safely.

Among the villagers, a respected elder named Yacob put the outsider to work and began teaching him their ways. Gradually, Nuñez adapted to their way of life, but he clung to the reality of sight. To him, vision was as real as the air he breathed. Although he tried to explain what he saw, he failed to make them understand what it meant to have vision. The more he spoke of high mountains and twinkling stars, the more the villagers pitied him.

Nuñez felt frustrated at the villagers' lack of awe for his precious gift of sight. It wasn't until he first laid eyes on Yacob's daughter, Medina-saroté, that he began to feel better. No one else admired Medina's beauty, as she had well-defined features that lacked the smoothness the villagers valued. Furthermore, her weak voice was neither powerful nor pleasing enough to meet their standards. Nuñez alone recognized her beauty, and he soon fell in love with her.

Yet, as their relationship blossomed, their desire to marry faced fierce opposition from the other villagers, who viewed Nuñez's "sight" as a dangerous delusion that needed to be "cured." Worst of all, even Medina herself agreed with them. She persuaded Nuñez to remove the peculiar orbs on either side of his nose. That way, he could stop daydreaming and truly become one of them. In return for Nuñez's great sacrifice, she agreed to marry him.

Nuñez was confronted with a dilemma: he had to choose either to lose his eyes or to end their relationship. Eventually, he agreed to give up his eyes for Medina's sake. Nevertheless, it wasn't until the day of his surgery that he realized he was making a huge mistake. That morning, he once again beheld the splendor of the sunrise. Gazing at the beautiful surrounding landscape and envisioning all that he might still see in the future, Nuñez saw that he had to escape. Driven by the desire to save his sight, he fled the country of the blind.