Examen De Admisi%c3%b3n Pucp Resultados Review

The alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., but Sofía hadn’t slept. She had been staring at the ceiling for hours, replaying the exam in her head. Question 47 – the trigonometry problem. Did I really divide by two, or did I just imagine it?

Her mother, Elena, was already in the kitchen, boiling water for emoliente. The scent of linseed and lemon filled the apartment. Elena didn’t say much. She didn’t need to. Her hands, rough from years of holding a wooden cart, trembled slightly as she poured the drink into a thermos.

“Mamá, what if I fail?” Sofía whispered.

Elena turned, her eyes tired but firm. “Then we try again. But you won’t fail.”

At 8:00 a.m., the PUCP website would publish the list of admitted students. The night before, Sofía had dreamed of the university’s main gate—the white columns, the grass where students read under the sun. She had visited once, on a school field trip. Her teacher had pointed to the Engineering faculty and said, “People like us can get there too.”

But “people like us” rarely did. Of the fifty students in her graduating class, only three dared to take the PUCP exam. The others opted for easier, cheaper, or public universities. Or no university at all.

Joaquín texted her at 7:30 a.m.: “Nervous?”

She wrote back: “Terrified.”

He called. “Listen, don’t check alone. I’ll come over.”

By 7:50 a.m., Joaquín was there, out of breath. He had run from the bus stop. He brought pan con chicharrón—a small luxury. They sat on the floor of the living room, the laptop open on a low wooden table. The screen glowed blue.

“You check first,” Sofía said.

Joaquín logged in. His hands were steady. He typed his ID number. The page loaded.

“Admitido – Facultad de Ciencias Sociales.”

He let out a breath, then a short laugh. “I’m in.”

Sofía hugged him. She meant it. But something cold coiled in her stomach. What if I’m not? examen de admisi%C3%B3n pucp resultados

Now it was her turn. Her fingers felt foreign as she typed her DNI. The cursor blinked. She clicked “Consultar.”

The page took three seconds to load. Three seconds where the world stopped. Her mother stood in the doorway, still holding the thermos. Joaquín placed a hand on her shoulder.

The screen refreshed.

“Admitida – Facultad de Ciencias e Ingeniería.”

Silence.

Then Sofía’s hand flew to her mouth. Her mother let out a sound—half sob, half laugh—and dropped the thermos. It clattered on the floor, spilling emoliente everywhere. Neither of them noticed.

“I got in,” Sofía said, as if testing the words. “I got in.” The alarm went off at 5:00 a

She started crying. Not pretty tears. Ugly, loud, messy crying. Joaquín hugged her so hard her back cracked. Elena knelt beside them, not caring about the sticky puddle on the floor, and held her daughter’s face in her hands.

“I told you,” Elena whispered. “I told you.”

Later that morning, Sofía walked to the corner market. She bought a chizito and a Inca Kola—the celebratory meal of the triumphant poor. She texted her teacher from the field trip: “I made it. Engineering.”

The teacher replied within a minute: “I knew you would. Now don’t stop. The hard part begins.”

That night, Sofía lay in bed again, but this time she slept. She dreamed not of the exam, but of the grass under the sun. Of white columns. Of a door that had finally opened.

La PUCP es transparente. Horas después de la publicación individual, suben la Lista Oficial de Ingresantes ordenada por puntaje. Esta lista incluye:

Si buscas tu nombre en esa lista y aparece, tu ingreso es inapelable. Si no aparece, revisa tu estado en el portal individual. La PUCP es transparente

Si no ingresaste por examen directo, el Centro de Preuniversitario de la PUCP (CEPREPUC) es tu mejor opción. Sus alumnos tienen una cuota de ingreso elevada (arriba del 70%). Al terminar el ciclo, rindes el Examen de Suficiencia.