Listening 2: Read the statements below, then listen to Profe…

Questions

Listening 2: Reаd the stаtements belоw, then listen tо Prоfessor Merino on the first dаy of class. Indicate whether each statement is true (cierto) or false (falso). (4 x 2.5 pts. each = 10 pts.) [1] El profesor Merino enseña química.  [2] Los lunes, la clase es de ocho a nueve de la mañana.  [3] Los viernes, la clase es de nueve a diez de la mañana.    [4] Hay clase de química los miércoles.  

Explаin when dоes а bаby may have nipple cоnfusiоn?

Explаin neоnаtаl jaundice and include 2 risk factоrs?

Questiоns 1 - 10 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage.  The Dry Tortugas: A Promise in Jeopardy        1Coral reefs are often called the rain forests of the sea and they are facing the same fate as their land- based cousins. One of the few places where it may not be too late is the Dry Tortugas.        2The series of seven islands, which in total are less than a single square mile of land, lie about 70 miles west of the Florida Keys. In 1935, a 115-square-mile area, which included the seven tiny islands, was designated as a national monument. In 1992, it was renamed and rededicated as a National Park. The national park status conferred more protection to the area's marine resources. In July 1997, the 2,800-square-nautical- mile ecosystem surrounding the Florida Keys, which includes the third largest barrier reef system in the world, was designated as a national marine sanctuary.        3Park use has doubled in the last three years, from 30,000 to 60,000 visitors and although fishing is prohibited within the park, it is allowed in the sanctuary. Up to 100 commercial fishing boats now work the area outside the park. Better boats, more people, increasingly efficient equipment and improved navigation have all combined to make the promise of the Dry Tortugas as one of the last wild ocean places in the continental United States a promise in jeopardy.        4The Dry Tortugas were first discovered by Ponce de Leon in his search for the fountain of youth. His crew caught an enormous number of sea turtles and ate them for dinner -- hence the name Tortugas, Spanish for turtle. They also found that there was no fresh water on the islands -- making them dry.        5The sandy islands have had a colorful history. They were once used as a pirate base, one was the site of the world's first marine laboratory, and the first underwater photograph was taken in the Tortugas. One of the islands is named for the giant fort with a moat that virtually covers it. Construction on Fort Jefferson was started in 1846 to help protect the Florida Straits, but by the time it was close to completion, weaponry developed for the Civil War had made it obsolete. Hospital Key once served as a quarantine colony for victims of yellow fever, and Bush Key was used as pasture for cows and hogs -- until it completely disappeared after a hurricane in 1870, only to reappear later.        6Despite this colorful and tumultuous history, its relative isolation has saved it from the fate of its brethren: overfishing, overuse, pollution and damage. Up until now, that is. Today, the coral reefs, seagrass beds and hardbottom communities of the Tortugas region remain relatively pristine. In contrast, it's estimated that 13 of 15 commercially targeted reef fish in the Florida Keys are overfished.        7To protect the Tortugas, a group of state and federal agencies and conservation groups are taking some baby steps toward working together to include the area in a marine ecological reserve. An ecological reserve is an area of the sanctuary set aside as a "no-take" area, consisting of contiguous, diverse habitats, where human influences can be minimized.       8Several things make including the Tortugas in the ecological reserve area absolutely imperative, according to David Holtz, Center for Marine Conservation. For one thing, the region's characteristics are ecologically unique. It is North America's only breeding ground for sooty terns, brown noddies, and frigate birds, all of which depend on healthy fish communities for their prey. The Center for Marine Conservation is actively involved in the Tortugas debate. Commercial and recreational fishermen, owners of tourism boats, divers and others all have a stake in the outcome of the boundaries decision. CMC wants to make certain that the general public understands what's at stake for them and their children. All together, the seven islands are less than          square mile(s) of land.

Questiоns 20 - 30 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage. Make Them Laugh        Aside from its smooth concrete floors, Cirque du Soleil’s Montreal headquarters look a lot like the offices of just about any multinational. Suddenly, a Chinese boy with shiny black hair bursts through a heavy metal door, pushing a larger-than-life bronze-colored ball. No one bats an eye as he passes through the reception area and out of sight. It’s just a regular business day for the employees of the world’s fastest-growing circus.        Every weekend this year, on stages around the world, 50,000 people will pay between $50 (for seats tucked to the back and side of the stage) and $230 (for VIP seats including hors d’oeuvres and refreshments) to be wowed by the Cirque du Soleil’s acrobats and contortionists. More than 23 million people worldwide have seen the circus perform since it was founded in 1984, either under the big top or in one of its four permanent theaters in the US. With sales expected to hit $420 million this year–and estimated profit margins of 15% to 20% – the Cirque is now hot on the heels of the much older, self-proclaimed "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which has estimated annual revenue of US$500 million.        That’s big money under the big top – enough, in fact, to catapult the Cirque’s two cofounders, Guy Laliberté, 40, and Daniel Gauthier, 41, onto this year’s Canadian Business Rich 100 for the first time (No. 74 and No. 75). Given the Cirque’s incredible growth over the past few years, entertainment analysts widely agree the company should be valued using a multiple of two times annual sales. That means the circus is worth at least $800 million–and Laliberté and Gauthier, who each hold 50%, about $400 million apiece.        Today, the Cirque has more than 2,000 employees – 500 of them performers – and seven productions playing on three continents. For decades, North American circus audiences were treated to the standard fare of elephants, lion tamers and horn-honking clowns. Cirque du Soleil took that tradition and turned it on its head. Part opera, part dance, part circus, it mixes humor and eerie imagery with live music, pyrotechnics and mind- boggling choreography.        How Cirque du Soleil evolved from a bunch of unemployed kids trying to turn a buck on street corners into Quebec’s second-largest cultural export after Céline Dion is the stuff of provincial legend. Laliberté and Gauthier grew up together in St-Bruno, a small town 200 kilometers north of Quebec City, but took very different paths before reuniting several years later as business partners.        Laliberté, the son of a nurse and an Alcan Aluminum vice-president, struck out on his own at 14 to busk with his accordion. Gripped by the idea of life as a street performer, he was drawn to the city of sidewalk showmen, Paris. In cobblestoned alleyways and around major tourist attractions, he lived hand-to-mouth, honing his newfound skills: fire eating and stilt walking. Eventually, he decided to return to Quebec, taking a job at a youth hostel in Baie-St-Paul, northeast of Quebec City. There, he met Gilles St. Croix, the Cirque du Soleil’s current creative director. The two stilt-walkers formed Le Club des Talons Hauts (High Heels Club) and set off on the busking festival circuit.        As the story goes, René Lévesque, then premier of Quebec, took in one of their shows and was hooked. In 1984, with the 450th anniversary of explorer Jacques Cartier’s arrival in Canada approaching, he gave $1.5 million to the performers to form Cirque du Soleil and take the show on tour around the province.        Meanwhile, while his childhood friend was off in Europe breathing flames, Gauthier was studying computers. When Laliberté was offered government money, Gauthier was working as a computer programmer and running his own small company. He happily abandoned his company to run away and build the circus. Although the government grants continued for five years, under Gauthier the Cirque quickly picked up sponsors. By 1989 provincial subsidies accounted for only 4% of its total budget, down from 97% in its first year.        Early setbacks left little time for clowning around. In order to expand in the late 1980s, the Cirque took on heavy debt. Then it had a streak of disastrous shows in Toronto and Niagara Falls. By 1987, Laliberté and Gauthier decided it was time to go for broke. They trucked the circus to the Los Angeles Arts Festival and spent their last $1 million mounting a media blitz to drum up curiosity about the show. If it bombed, they wouldn’t even have enough gas money to return home.        Cirque du Soleil became the toast of the critics and the buzz at Hollywood parties. Celebrities loved it. It became the "in thing" to be seen at a Cirque performance. Appearances by stars such as David Bowie, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand and Madonna only stoked the public’s curiosity.        The rest is history. "We were bums with a sense of business," Gauthier told a reporter in 1994. "We’re still bums with a sense of business – with more contracts, more experience and with more of a view of big business." One thing is almost certain: the sun won’t be setting on this circus anytime soon. “We were bums with a sense of business,” Gauthier told a reporter in “We’re still bums with a sense of business-more contracts, more experience and with more a view of big business.” What does his comment mean?

Questiоns 20 - 30 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage. Make Them Laugh        Aside from its smooth concrete floors, Cirque du Soleil’s Montreal headquarters look a lot like the offices of just about any multinational. Suddenly, a Chinese boy with shiny black hair bursts through a heavy metal door, pushing a larger-than-life bronze-colored ball. No one bats an eye as he passes through the reception area and out of sight. It’s just a regular business day for the employees of the world’s fastest-growing circus.        Every weekend this year, on stages around the world, 50,000 people will pay between $50 (for seats tucked to the back and side of the stage) and $230 (for VIP seats including hors d’oeuvres and refreshments) to be wowed by the Cirque du Soleil’s acrobats and contortionists. More than 23 million people worldwide have seen the circus perform since it was founded in 1984, either under the big top or in one of its four permanent theaters in the US. With sales expected to hit $420 million this year–and estimated profit margins of 15% to 20% – the Cirque is now hot on the heels of the much older, self-proclaimed "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which has estimated annual revenue of US$500 million.        That’s big money under the big top – enough, in fact, to catapult the Cirque’s two cofounders, Guy Laliberté, 40, and Daniel Gauthier, 41, onto this year’s Canadian Business Rich 100 for the first time (No. 74 and No. 75). Given the Cirque’s incredible growth over the past few years, entertainment analysts widely agree the company should be valued using a multiple of two times annual sales. That means the circus is worth at least $800 million–and Laliberté and Gauthier, who each hold 50%, about $400 million apiece.        Today, the Cirque has more than 2,000 employees – 500 of them performers – and seven productions playing on three continents. For decades, North American circus audiences were treated to the standard fare of elephants, lion tamers and horn-honking clowns. Cirque du Soleil took that tradition and turned it on its head. Part opera, part dance, part circus, it mixes humor and eerie imagery with live music, pyrotechnics and mind- boggling choreography.        How Cirque du Soleil evolved from a bunch of unemployed kids trying to turn a buck on street corners into Quebec’s second-largest cultural export after Céline Dion is the stuff of provincial legend. Laliberté and Gauthier grew up together in St-Bruno, a small town 200 kilometers north of Quebec City, but took very different paths before reuniting several years later as business partners.        Laliberté, the son of a nurse and an Alcan Aluminum vice-president, struck out on his own at 14 to busk with his accordion. Gripped by the idea of life as a street performer, he was drawn to the city of sidewalk showmen, Paris. In cobblestoned alleyways and around major tourist attractions, he lived hand-to-mouth, honing his newfound skills: fire eating and stilt walking. Eventually, he decided to return to Quebec, taking a job at a youth hostel in Baie-St-Paul, northeast of Quebec City. There, he met Gilles St. Croix, the Cirque du Soleil’s current creative director. The two stilt-walkers formed Le Club des Talons Hauts (High Heels Club) and set off on the busking festival circuit.        As the story goes, René Lévesque, then premier of Quebec, took in one of their shows and was hooked. In 1984, with the 450th anniversary of explorer Jacques Cartier’s arrival in Canada approaching, he gave $1.5 million to the performers to form Cirque du Soleil and take the show on tour around the province.        Meanwhile, while his childhood friend was off in Europe breathing flames, Gauthier was studying computers. When Laliberté was offered government money, Gauthier was working as a computer programmer and running his own small company. He happily abandoned his company to run away and build the circus. Although the government grants continued for five years, under Gauthier the Cirque quickly picked up sponsors. By 1989 provincial subsidies accounted for only 4% of its total budget, down from 97% in its first year.        Early setbacks left little time for clowning around. In order to expand in the late 1980s, the Cirque took on heavy debt. Then it had a streak of disastrous shows in Toronto and Niagara Falls. By 1987, Laliberté and Gauthier decided it was time to go for broke. They trucked the circus to the Los Angeles Arts Festival and spent their last $1 million mounting a media blitz to drum up curiosity about the show. If it bombed, they wouldn’t even have enough gas money to return home.        Cirque du Soleil became the toast of the critics and the buzz at Hollywood parties. Celebrities loved it. It became the "in thing" to be seen at a Cirque performance. Appearances by stars such as David Bowie, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand and Madonna only stoked the public’s curiosity.        The rest is history. "We were bums with a sense of business," Gauthier told a reporter in 1994. "We’re still bums with a sense of business – with more contracts, more experience and with more of a view of big business." One thing is almost certain: the sun won’t be setting on this circus anytime soon. In the third to the last paragraph (“Early setbacks left little time….”), the phrase go for broke means

Questiоns 11 - 15 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage.        1I remember the day we were driving to a friend's house. 2We were trying to turn left into a residential neighborhood, but there was a car stopped, blocking the lane ahead. 3I could see a man in the car holding a woman around the neck with his right arm and slugging (punching) her in the face with his left fist. 4I jumped out of the car and pulled open her door. 5As I pulled her out of the car, he swung open his door and headed for us both. 6It occurred to me then that I had always inserted myself into these situations on the premise that a man wouldn't hit a woman, and that premise clearly didn't apply here. 7But as he stepped toward us, my husband was standing there. 8"Calm down, man," my husband said. 9He walked the man back along the road, talking to him, almost whispering to him, as I took the woman across the street, into someone's yard under a tree and went to the house to get help. 10Her face was covered in blood. 11The police came, but the woman wouldn't press charges. 12The police would not arrest him based on what I saw without her complaint, and so we all got back in our cars and drove away.        13I saw them both about a year later at the grocery store, an old yellow bruise on her cheek. 14I suppose I had always thought that even strangers could intervene and make things right, if only they would, and this was a hard lesson that it wasn't that easy. 15You couldn't always fix everything. In sentence 14, the word intervene means

Questiоns 20 - 30 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage. Make Them Laugh        Aside from its smooth concrete floors, Cirque du Soleil’s Montreal headquarters look a lot like the offices of just about any multinational. Suddenly, a Chinese boy with shiny black hair bursts through a heavy metal door, pushing a larger-than-life bronze-colored ball. No one bats an eye as he passes through the reception area and out of sight. It’s just a regular business day for the employees of the world’s fastest-growing circus.        Every weekend this year, on stages around the world, 50,000 people will pay between $50 (for seats tucked to the back and side of the stage) and $230 (for VIP seats including hors d’oeuvres and refreshments) to be wowed by the Cirque du Soleil’s acrobats and contortionists. More than 23 million people worldwide have seen the circus perform since it was founded in 1984, either under the big top or in one of its four permanent theaters in the US. With sales expected to hit $420 million this year–and estimated profit margins of 15% to 20% – the Cirque is now hot on the heels of the much older, self-proclaimed "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which has estimated annual revenue of US$500 million.        That’s big money under the big top – enough, in fact, to catapult the Cirque’s two cofounders, Guy Laliberté, 40, and Daniel Gauthier, 41, onto this year’s Canadian Business Rich 100 for the first time (No. 74 and No. 75). Given the Cirque’s incredible growth over the past few years, entertainment analysts widely agree the company should be valued using a multiple of two times annual sales. That means the circus is worth at least $800 million–and Laliberté and Gauthier, who each hold 50%, about $400 million apiece.        Today, the Cirque has more than 2,000 employees – 500 of them performers – and seven productions playing on three continents. For decades, North American circus audiences were treated to the standard fare of elephants, lion tamers and horn-honking clowns. Cirque du Soleil took that tradition and turned it on its head. Part opera, part dance, part circus, it mixes humor and eerie imagery with live music, pyrotechnics and mind- boggling choreography.        How Cirque du Soleil evolved from a bunch of unemployed kids trying to turn a buck on street corners into Quebec’s second-largest cultural export after Céline Dion is the stuff of provincial legend. Laliberté and Gauthier grew up together in St-Bruno, a small town 200 kilometers north of Quebec City, but took very different paths before reuniting several years later as business partners.        Laliberté, the son of a nurse and an Alcan Aluminum vice-president, struck out on his own at 14 to busk with his accordion. Gripped by the idea of life as a street performer, he was drawn to the city of sidewalk showmen, Paris. In cobblestoned alleyways and around major tourist attractions, he lived hand-to-mouth, honing his newfound skills: fire eating and stilt walking. Eventually, he decided to return to Quebec, taking a job at a youth hostel in Baie-St-Paul, northeast of Quebec City. There, he met Gilles St. Croix, the Cirque du Soleil’s current creative director. The two stilt-walkers formed Le Club des Talons Hauts (High Heels Club) and set off on the busking festival circuit.        As the story goes, René Lévesque, then premier of Quebec, took in one of their shows and was hooked. In 1984, with the 450th anniversary of explorer Jacques Cartier’s arrival in Canada approaching, he gave $1.5 million to the performers to form Cirque du Soleil and take the show on tour around the province.        Meanwhile, while his childhood friend was off in Europe breathing flames, Gauthier was studying computers. When Laliberté was offered government money, Gauthier was working as a computer programmer and running his own small company. He happily abandoned his company to run away and build the circus. Although the government grants continued for five years, under Gauthier the Cirque quickly picked up sponsors. By 1989 provincial subsidies accounted for only 4% of its total budget, down from 97% in its first year.        Early setbacks left little time for clowning around. In order to expand in the late 1980s, the Cirque took on heavy debt. Then it had a streak of disastrous shows in Toronto and Niagara Falls. By 1987, Laliberté and Gauthier decided it was time to go for broke. They trucked the circus to the Los Angeles Arts Festival and spent their last $1 million mounting a media blitz to drum up curiosity about the show. If it bombed, they wouldn’t even have enough gas money to return home.        Cirque du Soleil became the toast of the critics and the buzz at Hollywood parties. Celebrities loved it. It became the "in thing" to be seen at a Cirque performance. Appearances by stars such as David Bowie, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand and Madonna only stoked the public’s curiosity.        The rest is history. "We were bums with a sense of business," Gauthier told a reporter in 1994. "We’re still bums with a sense of business – with more contracts, more experience and with more of a view of big business." One thing is almost certain: the sun won’t be setting on this circus anytime soon. Guy Laliberté began his professional career as a

Questiоns 1 - 10 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage.  The Dry Tortugas: A Promise in Jeopardy        1Coral reefs are often called the rain forests of the sea and they are facing the same fate as their land- based cousins. One of the few places where it may not be too late is the Dry Tortugas.        2The series of seven islands, which in total are less than a single square mile of land, lie about 70 miles west of the Florida Keys. In 1935, a 115-square-mile area, which included the seven tiny islands, was designated as a national monument. In 1992, it was renamed and rededicated as a National Park. The national park status conferred more protection to the area's marine resources. In July 1997, the 2,800-square-nautical- mile ecosystem surrounding the Florida Keys, which includes the third largest barrier reef system in the world, was designated as a national marine sanctuary.        3Park use has doubled in the last three years, from 30,000 to 60,000 visitors and although fishing is prohibited within the park, it is allowed in the sanctuary. Up to 100 commercial fishing boats now work the area outside the park. Better boats, more people, increasingly efficient equipment and improved navigation have all combined to make the promise of the Dry Tortugas as one of the last wild ocean places in the continental United States a promise in jeopardy.        4The Dry Tortugas were first discovered by Ponce de Leon in his search for the fountain of youth. His crew caught an enormous number of sea turtles and ate them for dinner -- hence the name Tortugas, Spanish for turtle. They also found that there was no fresh water on the islands -- making them dry.        5The sandy islands have had a colorful history. They were once used as a pirate base, one was the site of the world's first marine laboratory, and the first underwater photograph was taken in the Tortugas. One of the islands is named for the giant fort with a moat that virtually covers it. Construction on Fort Jefferson was started in 1846 to help protect the Florida Straits, but by the time it was close to completion, weaponry developed for the Civil War had made it obsolete. Hospital Key once served as a quarantine colony for victims of yellow fever, and Bush Key was used as pasture for cows and hogs -- until it completely disappeared after a hurricane in 1870, only to reappear later.        6Despite this colorful and tumultuous history, its relative isolation has saved it from the fate of its brethren: overfishing, overuse, pollution and damage. Up until now, that is. Today, the coral reefs, seagrass beds and hardbottom communities of the Tortugas region remain relatively pristine. In contrast, it's estimated that 13 of 15 commercially targeted reef fish in the Florida Keys are overfished.        7To protect the Tortugas, a group of state and federal agencies and conservation groups are taking some baby steps toward working together to include the area in a marine ecological reserve. An ecological reserve is an area of the sanctuary set aside as a "no-take" area, consisting of contiguous, diverse habitats, where human influences can be minimized.       8Several things make including the Tortugas in the ecological reserve area absolutely imperative, according to David Holtz, Center for Marine Conservation. For one thing, the region's characteristics are ecologically unique. It is North America's only breeding ground for sooty terns, brown noddies, and frigate birds, all of which depend on healthy fish communities for their prey. The Center for Marine Conservation is actively involved in the Tortugas debate. Commercial and recreational fishermen, owners of tourism boats, divers and others all have a stake in the outcome of the boundaries decision. CMC wants to make certain that the general public understands what's at stake for them and their children. The main reason the Dry Tortugas have not suffered environmental and ecological damage until recently is:

Questiоns 20 - 30 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage. Make Them Laugh        Aside from its smooth concrete floors, Cirque du Soleil’s Montreal headquarters look a lot like the offices of just about any multinational. Suddenly, a Chinese boy with shiny black hair bursts through a heavy metal door, pushing a larger-than-life bronze-colored ball. No one bats an eye as he passes through the reception area and out of sight. It’s just a regular business day for the employees of the world’s fastest-growing circus.        Every weekend this year, on stages around the world, 50,000 people will pay between $50 (for seats tucked to the back and side of the stage) and $230 (for VIP seats including hors d’oeuvres and refreshments) to be wowed by the Cirque du Soleil’s acrobats and contortionists. More than 23 million people worldwide have seen the circus perform since it was founded in 1984, either under the big top or in one of its four permanent theaters in the US. With sales expected to hit $420 million this year–and estimated profit margins of 15% to 20% – the Cirque is now hot on the heels of the much older, self-proclaimed "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which has estimated annual revenue of US$500 million.        That’s big money under the big top – enough, in fact, to catapult the Cirque’s two cofounders, Guy Laliberté, 40, and Daniel Gauthier, 41, onto this year’s Canadian Business Rich 100 for the first time (No. 74 and No. 75). Given the Cirque’s incredible growth over the past few years, entertainment analysts widely agree the company should be valued using a multiple of two times annual sales. That means the circus is worth at least $800 million–and Laliberté and Gauthier, who each hold 50%, about $400 million apiece.        Today, the Cirque has more than 2,000 employees – 500 of them performers – and seven productions playing on three continents. For decades, North American circus audiences were treated to the standard fare of elephants, lion tamers and horn-honking clowns. Cirque du Soleil took that tradition and turned it on its head. Part opera, part dance, part circus, it mixes humor and eerie imagery with live music, pyrotechnics and mind- boggling choreography.        How Cirque du Soleil evolved from a bunch of unemployed kids trying to turn a buck on street corners into Quebec’s second-largest cultural export after Céline Dion is the stuff of provincial legend. Laliberté and Gauthier grew up together in St-Bruno, a small town 200 kilometers north of Quebec City, but took very different paths before reuniting several years later as business partners.        Laliberté, the son of a nurse and an Alcan Aluminum vice-president, struck out on his own at 14 to busk with his accordion. Gripped by the idea of life as a street performer, he was drawn to the city of sidewalk showmen, Paris. In cobblestoned alleyways and around major tourist attractions, he lived hand-to-mouth, honing his newfound skills: fire eating and stilt walking. Eventually, he decided to return to Quebec, taking a job at a youth hostel in Baie-St-Paul, northeast of Quebec City. There, he met Gilles St. Croix, the Cirque du Soleil’s current creative director. The two stilt-walkers formed Le Club des Talons Hauts (High Heels Club) and set off on the busking festival circuit.        As the story goes, René Lévesque, then premier of Quebec, took in one of their shows and was hooked. In 1984, with the 450th anniversary of explorer Jacques Cartier’s arrival in Canada approaching, he gave $1.5 million to the performers to form Cirque du Soleil and take the show on tour around the province.        Meanwhile, while his childhood friend was off in Europe breathing flames, Gauthier was studying computers. When Laliberté was offered government money, Gauthier was working as a computer programmer and running his own small company. He happily abandoned his company to run away and build the circus. Although the government grants continued for five years, under Gauthier the Cirque quickly picked up sponsors. By 1989 provincial subsidies accounted for only 4% of its total budget, down from 97% in its first year.        Early setbacks left little time for clowning around. In order to expand in the late 1980s, the Cirque took on heavy debt. Then it had a streak of disastrous shows in Toronto and Niagara Falls. By 1987, Laliberté and Gauthier decided it was time to go for broke. They trucked the circus to the Los Angeles Arts Festival and spent their last $1 million mounting a media blitz to drum up curiosity about the show. If it bombed, they wouldn’t even have enough gas money to return home.        Cirque du Soleil became the toast of the critics and the buzz at Hollywood parties. Celebrities loved it. It became the "in thing" to be seen at a Cirque performance. Appearances by stars such as David Bowie, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand and Madonna only stoked the public’s curiosity.        The rest is history. "We were bums with a sense of business," Gauthier told a reporter in 1994. "We’re still bums with a sense of business – with more contracts, more experience and with more of a view of big business." One thing is almost certain: the sun won’t be setting on this circus anytime soon. Entertainment analysts estimate that the Cirque du Soleil is worth: