Imagine you investigated the role Colonial plantations had on the increase of the African slave trade which of the following statements would provide the best findings for your investigation?
A. Did Amanda Harvest cash crops at a cheap labor price increase the African slave trade
B. The demand to cultivate Plantation land decreased through the African slave trade increased to reduce labor costs
C. The demand for Less intersive labor to harvest cash crops increase the African slave trade
D. The demand for skilled labor to harvest cash crops increase the African slave trade
C. The demand for less intensive labor to harvest cash crops increased the African slave trade.
please read the story, then tell me if Azucena's character is revealed more through other's perspectives or if it's revealed through Azucena's words.
They threw a rope to her
that she made no effort to grasp until they shouted to her to catch
it; then she pulled a hand from the mire and tried to move but
immediately sank a little deeper. Rolf threw down his knapsack
and the rest of his equipment and waded into the quagmire,
commenting for his assistant’s microphone that it was cold and
that one could begin to smell the stench of corpses.
quagmire
bog; quicksand
“What’s your name?” he asked the girl, and she told him her
flower name. “Don’t move, Azucena,” Rolf Carlé directed, and
kept talking to her, without a thought for what he was saying, just
to distract her, while slowly he worked his way forward in mud up
to his waist. The air around him seemed as murky as the mud.
It was impossible to reach her from the approach he was
attempting, so he retreated and circled around where there
seemed to be firmer footing. When finally he was close enough,
he took the rope and tied it beneath her arms, so they could pull
her out. He smiled at her with that smile that crinkles his eyes and
makes him look like a little boy; he told her that everything was
fine, that he was here with her now, that soon they would have
her out. He signaled the others to pull, but as soon as the cord
tensed, the girl screamed. They tried again, and her shoulders and
arms appeared, but they could move her no farther; she was
trapped. Someone suggested that her legs might be caught in the
collapsed walls of her house, but she said it was not just rubble,
that she was also held by the bodies of her brothers and sisters
clinging to her legs.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here,” Rolf promised.
Despite the quality of the transmission, I could hear his voice
break, and I loved him more than ever. Azucena looked at him
but said nothing.
During those first hours Rolf Carlé exhausted all the resources
of his ingenuity to rescue her. He struggled with poles and ropes,
but every tug was an intolerable torture for the imprisoned girl. It
occurred to him to use one of the poles as a lever but got no result
and had to abandon the idea. He talked a couple of soldiers into
working with him for a while, but they had to leave because so
many other victims were calling for help. The girl could not move,
she barely could breathe, but she did not seem desperate, as if an
ancestral resignation allowed her to accept her fate. The reporter,
on the other hand, was determined to snatch her from death.
Someone brought him a tire, which he placed beneath her arms
like a life buoy, and then laid a plank near the hole to hold his
weight and allow him to stay closer to her. As it was impossible
to remove the rubble blindly, he tried once or twice to dive
toward her feet but emerged frustrated, covered with mud, and
spitting gravel. He concluded that he would have to have a pump
to drain the water, and radioed a request for one but received in
return a message that there was no available transport and it
could not be sent until the next morning.
“We can’t wait that long!” Rolf Carlé shouted, but in the
pandemonium no one stopped to commiserate. Many more
hours would go by before he accepted that time had stagnated
and reality had been irreparably distorted.
A military doctor came to examine the girl and observed that
her heart was functioning well and that if she did not get too cold
she could survive the night.
“Hang on, Azucena, we’ll have the pump tomorrow,” Rolf
Carlé tried to console her.
“Don’t leave me alone,” she begged.
“No, of course I won’t leave you.”
Someone brought him coffee, and he helped the girl drink it,
sip by sip. The warm liquid revived her, and she began telling him
about her small life, about her family and her school, about how
things were in that little bit of world before the volcano erupted.
She was thirteen, and she had never been outside her village. Rolf
Carlé, buoyed by a premature optimism, was convinced that
everything would end
well: the pump would
arrive, they would drain
the water, move the
rubble, and Azucena
would be transported by
helicopter to a hospital
where she would recover
rapidly and where he
could visit her and bring
her gifts. He thought,
She’s already too old for
dolls, and I don’t know
what would please her;
maybe a dress. I don’t
know much about
women, he concluded,
amused, reflecting that
although he had known
many women in his
lifetime, none had taught
him these details. To pass
the hours he began to tell
Azucena about his travels
and adventures as a news
hound, and when he exhausted his memory, he called upon
imagination, inventing things he thought might entertain her.
From time to time she dozed, but he kept talking in the darkness,
to assure her that he was still there and to overcome the menace
of uncertainty.
That was a long night.
Many miles away, I watched Rolf Carlé and the girl on a television
screen. I could not bear the wait at home, so I went to National
Television, where I often spent entire nights with Rolf editing
programs. There, I was near his world, and I could at least get a
feeling of what he lived through during those three decisive days.
I called all the important people in the city, senators,
commanders of the armed forces, the North American
ambassador, and the president of National Petroleum, begging
them for a pump to remove the silt, but obtained only vague
promises. I began to ask for urgent help on radio and television,
to see if there wasn’t someone who could help us. Between calls I
would run to the newsroom to monitor the satellite transmissions
that periodically brought new details of the catastrophe. While
reporters selected scenes with most impact for the new report, I
searched for footage that featured Azucena’s mud pit. The screen
reduced the disaster to a single plane and accentuated the
tremendous distance that separated me from Rolf Carlé;
nonetheless, I was there with him. The child’s every suffering hurt
me as it did him; I felt his frustration, his impotence. Faced with
the impossibility of communicating with him, the fantastic idea
came to me that if I tried, I could reach him by force of mind and
in that way give him encouragement. I concentrated until I was
dizzy—a frenzied and futile activity. At times I would be
overcome with compassion and burst out crying; at other times, I
was so drained I felt as if I were staring through a telescope at the
light of a star dead for a million years.
Based on the given passage, Azucena's character is revealed more through Azucena's words.
please read the story, then tell me if Azucena's character is revealed more through other's perspectives or if it's revealed through Azucena's words.
little girl obstinately clinging to life became the
symbol of the tragedy. The television cameras transmitted so
often the unbearable image of the head budding like a black
squash from the clay that there was no one who did not recognize
her and know her name. And every time we saw her on the screen,
right behind her was Rolf Carlé, who had gone there on
assignment, never suspecting that he would find a fragment of his
past, lost thirty years before
Rolf Carlé was in on the story of Azucena from the beginning.
He filmed the volunteers who discovered her, and the first persons
who tried to reach her; his camera zoomed in on the girl, her dark
face, her large desolate eyes, the plastered-down tangle of her hair.
The mud was like quicksand around her, and anyone attempting
to reach her was in danger of sinking. They threw a rope to her
that she made no effort to grasp until they shouted to her to catch
it; then she pulled a hand from the mire and tried to move but
immediately sank a little deeper. Rolf threw down his knapsack
and the rest of his equipment and waded into the quagmire,
commenting for his assistant’s microphone that it was cold and
that one could begin to smell the stench of corpses.
“What’s your name?” he asked the girl, and she told him her
flower name. “Don’t move, Azucena,” Rolf Carlé directed, and her.
kept talking to her, without a thought for what he was saying, just
to distract her, while slowly he worked his way forward in mud up
to his waist. The air around him seemed as murky as the mud.
It was impossible to reach her from the approach he was
attempting, so he retreated and circled around where there
seemed to be firmer footing. When finally he was close enough,
he took the rope and tied it beneath her arms, so they could pull
her out. He smiled at her with that smile that crinkles his eyes and
makes him look like a little boy; he told her that everything was
fine, that he was here with her now, that soon they would have
her out. He signaled the others to pull, but as soon as the cord
tensed, the girl screamed. They tried again, and her shoulders and
arms appeared, but they could move her no farther; she was
trapped. Someone suggested that her legs might be caught in the
collapsed walls of her house, but she said it was not just rubble, but that she was also held by the bodies of her brothers and sisters clinging to her legs.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here,” Rolf promised.
Despite the quality of the transmission, I could hear his voice
break, and I loved him more than ever. Azucena looked at him -
but said nothing.
During those first hours Rolf Carlé exhausted all the resources
of his ingenuity to rescue her. He struggled with poles and ropes,
but every tug was an intolerable torture for the imprisoned girl. It
occurred to him to use one of the poles as a lever but got no result
and had to abandon the idea. He talked a couple of soldiers into
working with him for a while, but they had to leave because so
many other victims were calling for help. The girl could not move,
she barely could breathe, but she did not seem desperate, as if an
ancestral resignation allowed her to accept her fate. The reporter,
on the other hand, was determined to snatch her from death.
Someone brought him a tire, which he placed beneath her arms
like a life buoy, and then laid a plank near the hole to hold his
weight and allow him to stay closer to her. As it was impossible
to remove the rubble blindly, he tried once or twice to dive
toward her feet but emerged frustrated, covered with mud, and
spitting gravel. He concluded that he would have to have a pump
to drain the water, and radioed a request for one but received in
return a message that there was no available transport and it
could not be sent until the next morning.
Based on the given passage, Azucena's character is revealed more through other's perspectives, particularly through Rolf Carlé's actions, thoughts, and interactions with her.
Combine the two. Who is more dominant, the words or other's views?
Based on the given passage, both Azucena's character is revealed through a combination of her own words and other's perspectives, particularly through Rolf Carlé's actions, thoughts, and interactions with her.
BUT WHICH IS MORE DOMINANT
Based on the given passage, it appears that the perspective of others, particularly Rolf Carlé, is more dominant in revealing Azucena's character. While Azucena does speak and provide some insight into her life and experiences, the passage focuses more on Rolf Carlé's actions, thoughts, and efforts to rescue her, which provides a greater understanding of her character.
cite evidence for yor claim.
1. Prove that rolf is revealing her character.
2. Prove that her words reveal her character LESS than other people's perspective do.