CELPIP Listening Practice Test 35

WOMAN: Hi there, I'd like to set up a new fare card, please. I just moved to the city and I've been paying cash on the bus, which is getting expensive.

MAN: Sure thing, I can help with that. Could I get your name and a piece of ID?

WOMAN: Of course, it's Renata Silva. Let me just dig it out of my shoulder bag... here's my driver's license.

MAN: Great, thanks, Renata. So you're after the standard adult card, then?

WOMAN: Yes, exactly, the regular one, nothing special.

MAN: All right, the card itself is twenty dollars, and you can load whatever amount on top of that.

WOMAN: Let's put fifty dollars total on it, that should cover me for a couple of weeks.

MAN: Perfect, give me just a moment while this prints. Here you are, all set.

WOMAN: Thanks so much. Oh, wait, this receipt only shows sixty-five dollars, not seventy. Did I misread the price somewhere?

MAN: No, that's correct, it's just reflecting the concession rate the system already had queued up.

WOMAN: Hmm, I never mentioned wanting a discount. I'd rather sort that out before I leave, honestly, since I'm counting on this card working properly for my commute starting first thing tomorrow morning.

MAN: Let me pull up your file again. Ah, I see what happened, the terminal defaults to the senior concession category unless the clerk manually switches it.

WOMAN: So you're saying it just assumed I qualified for that, without even asking?

MAN: Basically, yes. I should have double-checked instead of clicking straight through the screen.

WOMAN: No harm done, I suppose, but I do need the correct card, not a discounted one I'm honestly not entitled to.

MAN: Absolutely, I can fix that right now. I just need to void this card and reissue a fresh one under the standard fare.

WOMAN: That's fine by me. Will voiding it affect the fifty dollars I already loaded onto it?

MAN: It shouldn't, the balance transfers automatically, but the price difference between the two fare categories does need to be settled separately.

WOMAN: Right, because the standard card naturally costs a little more than the senior one.

MAN: Exactly, and unfortunately I can't adjust that difference myself. Any correction over a couple of dollars needs a supervisor's sign-off before it goes through.

WOMAN: Okay, so what does that actually mean for me right now, in practical terms?

MAN: It means we'll need to wait a few minutes until my supervisor happens to be free to approve the reissue.

MAN: Thanks for waiting, Renata. My supervisor's reviewed everything and approved the correction.

WOMAN: Great, so what happens now, exactly?

MAN: I'm voiding the senior card and issuing you a proper standard adult card, with your fifty-dollar balance carried straight over.

WOMAN: And the price difference you mentioned earlier?

MAN: Right, since the senior rate undercharged you, there's a small adjustment, just five dollars, to bring the card up to the correct standard value.

WOMAN: That seems fair, given the mix-up clearly wasn't my fault. I'll pay it now.

MAN: Appreciate that. Here's your new card, plus an updated receipt showing the corrected balance and fare category.

WOMAN: Wonderful, thank you for straightening this out so quickly.

MAN: No trouble at all, and sorry again for the confusion earlier.

WOMAN: Honestly, it's fine, these things happen. I'm just relieved it's sorted before tomorrow's commute, since I really can't afford another delay right at the station gate.

MAN: Understood completely. If anything looks off when you tap in tomorrow, just come straight back and we'll take care of it immediately.

WOMAN: Hi Eric. Are you free tomorrow morning? I want to go strawberry picking instead of making another grocery stop.

MAN: Hey Sonia. I visit my grandmother after lunch on Saturdays, but the morning is open if we can finish without watching the clock every minute.

WOMAN: Two farms are open. River Farm is closer and a little cheaper; Mill Road opens at eight and has the better crop right now.

MAN: Closer sounds sensible when I have somewhere to be later. What makes you prefer Mill Road strongly enough to drive farther?

WOMAN: River sprayed after the rain. Mill Road posts its treatment record, and this week's berries were not sprayed. I would rather know what we are taking home.

MAN: My grandmother cannot manage the uneven field, but she loves fresh berries. Bringing her a basket would let her share the outing without having to join it.

WOMAN: Then Mill Road suits the gift. It is fifteen minutes farther, but ripe rows should save us time once we arrive.

MAN: I was also interested in the jam demonstration, although it starts at noon. Staying for that would push the farm visit into the time I promised my grandmother.

WOMAN: We can skip it. If we arrive at eight, two hours is plenty for picking, and we can leave before families fill the play area.

MAN: That leaves a comfortable gap instead of a rushed one. I would enjoy the field more if every extra basket did not feel like a threat to the afternoon.

WOMAN: I will drive and bring two baskets. We can keep one for your grandmother from the beginning rather than dividing soft berries in the car.

MAN: River would save fifteen minutes and a few dollars. Still, that is a small benefit if we spend the visit wondering what was used on the fruit.

WOMAN: So Mill Road at eight, no demonstration, and away by ten-thirty. I will pick you up, and you can protect the berries from my enthusiastic driving.

MAN: Agreed. In the afternoon, you can meet my grandmother and help explain why her basket survived the ride better than ours.

WOMAN: Hi, do you have a minute? I'm filling out my first performance self-assessment, and I don't know where to start with the accomplishments section.

MAN: Sure, happy to help. What's tripping you up?

WOMAN: Mostly how much detail to give. I don't want to ramble, but I don't want to undersell what I did this year either.

MAN: Fair enough. Principle one: always quantify your impact wherever you can. Vague statements like "I improved the workflow" don't really land with reviewers.

WOMAN: So instead of that, what would you put?

MAN: Something like, "I streamlined onboarding, which cut new-hire training time by roughly thirty percent." That's concrete, and it gives your manager something they can actually verify.

WOMAN: Okay, numbers instead of adjectives.

MAN: Exactly. And even without an exact figure, at least frame it in terms of scope, like how many people or projects it affected. That tends to land better than a general claim.

WOMAN: Got it. Now, here's my real worry: how do I do that without sounding like I'm bragging?

MAN: That's principle two, and it's just as important. Tie every claim directly back to evidence, so it reads as fact rather than opinion. If you say you're a strong communicator, back it up with something like positive client feedback.

WOMAN: So it's less about praise and more about being precise.

MAN: Right. There is one situation where you shouldn't force the quantifying rule.

WOMAN: Oh?

MAN: If you're describing something still in progress, don't force a number onto it just to seem impressive. As long as the outcome isn't finalized yet, it's fine to describe the trajectory instead, things like the milestones you've hit so far.

WOMAN: That's reassuring. I've got one project that's only about two-thirds done.

MAN: Then just note what's been completed and where it's headed. Forcing a premature figure there would actually undercut your credibility, not boost it.

WOMAN: This is helpful. Honestly, I was worried the form would come across as arrogant no matter what I wrote.

MAN: In my experience, most new employees undersell themselves rather than oversell. Being specific and evidence-based rarely reads as boastful.

WOMAN: Okay, I've got a much clearer sense of how to approach this now. I'll quantify what I can and leave the unfinished project as a progress note.

MAN: Sounds like a solid plan. Good luck with it.

MAN: A retired nurse in the town of Threlkeld has earned widespread praise this month for organizing a free weekend clinic that treated more than two hundred fifty uninsured residents during its first three sessions. Bernadette Solheim, who spent twenty-six years working in a regional emergency ward before retiring last winter, said she grew restless within weeks of leaving the profession after noticing former patients skipping basic checkups simply because they could not afford them. Rather than volunteering elsewhere, Solheim spent the spring recruiting nine retired doctors, dentists, and pharmacists willing to donate their Sundays, and she convinced a local grocer to lend an unused storage building near the market square rent-free. The turnout, she admits, surprised even her. "I expected perhaps forty people on opening day," Solheim recalled, "but the line had already wrapped around the corner before we unlocked the doors." Volunteers screened patients for high blood pressure and diabetes, administered vaccinations, and referred complicated cases to Aldergrove Hospital, which has agreed to reduce fees for anyone referred through the clinic. Mayor Terrence Wu praised the effort as evidence that community initiatives can ease, though not replace, pressure on the public health system, and he pledged modest municipal funding to extend the clinic through autumn. Solheim insists the credit belongs to her volunteers, though she has quietly begun planning a second site on Threlkeld's eastern edge, one she hopes to open before winter, provided donations keep arriving.

woman1: Idris, food booths are what families remember. Last year's tasting tables were the highlight people still mention.

man1: Hana, I hear you, but performances on stage create the deeper learning moment for students themselves.

woman2: That's where I get nervous. Whatever we choose, equal representation is the piece that goes wrong every year.

woman1: Lara, fair point, but food booths actually achieve representation more easily than performances, which often spotlight only a few groups.

man1: Granted, although a curated performance schedule could balance regions that get repeatedly overlooked at events like ours.

woman2: Curating is the part that quietly slips. Last year three families withdrew because they felt token-listed at the program's end.

man1: Fair criticism, although the answer isn't to drop performances. It's to build the schedule with parents, not around them.

woman1: Building with parents is wonderful, but our planning timeline is six weeks. That's not enough lead time.

woman2: Six weeks is tight, although shorter consultations with two parent reps per community might be more workable than full meetings.

man1: Lara's idea fits, on condition those reps actually have decision-making weight, not just feedback collection.

woman1: Decision-making weight changes the calculus, although the budget piece nobody has touched still worries me.

man1: Hana's right that costs need scoping. Stage rental alone last year ate nearly a third of the programming budget.

woman2: That's the dropped point I keep forgetting to raise. We can't plan booths or performances without firm numbers.

woman1: Should the event lean educational with structured activities, or stay casual? I lean educational this year.

man1: Casual celebration brings warmth, although structured pieces give teachers something to reference in classrooms afterwards.

woman2: I'll request the budget breakdown tomorrow. Hana, could you sketch the booth layout while Idris confirms parent reps?

MAN: A newly excavated fossil bed in a remote ridge of the Alberta badlands near Drumheller has reopened a debate among paleontologists. At issue is how long a mid-sized duck-billed species' offspring stayed near adults after hatching, rather than dispersing within days as long assumed. The disagreement reaches further than duration: how a museum should handle a shifting exhibit, and how much weight one unusual site deserves against dozens of others. Paleontologist Adrian Kalinowski, the excavation's lead, argues the new evidence overturns the standard timeline. He says the site preserves five juvenile skeletons, estimated by bone density at four to eleven months old, clustered around one adult in a way unlikely from a flood or predator kill. Kalinowski believes the age spread shows the group stayed together through most of their first year, not dispersing within days. He wants the specimen described publicly as evidence of extended parental investment. Museum curator Felicity Nkemelu, who's run the Drumheller Museum's exhibits for eleven years, shares the excitement — but she's been burned before. Back in the nineties, a whole gallery had to be quietly rebuilt after a dating claim didn't hold up, and she still winces thinking about the cost. The museum is already drafting plans for a permanent dinosaur wing built partly around this find, and her worry is simple: can a permanent exhibit be changed fast enough if peer review disagrees, given how much pricier that is than fixing a temporary one? She'd rather wait on the wing until the interpretation settles. Local tour guides have already started fielding questions about the find from visitors eager to see it before the interpretation is finalized, even though the fossil itself sits in a corner of the museum most visitors currently walk past without a second look. Independent researcher Simon Abernathy is skeptical of the age spread itself. He points to the Two Forks Basin site, where a similar cluster of seven mixed-age juveniles was first read as parental care, later shown through sediment analysis to reflect animals sheltering together during a drought. Abernathy argues Kalinowski's site can't yet be told apart from a similar drought-shelter scenario, and wants growth-ring counts from the largest juvenile's leg bone to confirm the age spread first. For now, the fossil sits in the side gallery, signage describing the age-spread interpretation as provisional, while the wing's plans stay on hold. Several visiting school groups keep asking when the display might move once a paper comes out; the museum still hasn't said. Independent lab technicians say the growth-ring test will take several months, since the bone must be sectioned carefully. For a museum used to unveiling finished stories, waiting on a lab result first is an uncomfortable position to be in. A regional fossil-heritage council, brought in to help the museum and the two researchers find common ground, has proposed a specific middle path. Keep the fossil in the side gallery with dual-interpretation signage, and revisit the permanent-wing decision only once the growth-ring results are back, whichever way they point.