Saturday 23rd August 2025
Blog Page 1655

Another stab in the EBacc

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The world is a harsher place for young people exiting school. The three-fold increase in tuition fees, a political u-turn accompanied by little apology to Britain’s young people, has seen an approximate 7.7% decrease in university applications in just one year. Even if it amounted to a so-called graduate tax, it has created a climate of drastically depleted academic aspirations. And of those who have graduated in the past five years, many have had to come to terms with the saturation of the jobs market.   

Now another radical change has come about, the English Baccalaureate (EBacc), and it will make it even harder for a young person to succeed: all for a good purpose in the eyes of the government, of course. It is another part of the government cap on the aspiration of today’s young people, which has been especially damaging to the poorest. First, there were cuts to public services and education which saw library closures, the closing-down of youth centres and a decreased investment in schools. Libraries play a huge role in developing literacy, but the government nevertheless went about cutting their budgets. The EMA, which enabled thousands of poor children to attend sixth-form, was abolished. Kids had to make do with less, making hard times harder as their parents’ real incomes shrunk. Now Gove’s EBacc seeks to raise standards. It will certainly be harder to achieve the top marks than it was under GCSEs, but for whom will it be hardest?

There are a number of serious issues with the EBacc. Perhaps Gove is a romantic who believes compulsory French will increase children’s future prospects by knowing the language of love, but perhaps this nation’s future would benefit more pragmatically from Spanish or Chinese. Secondly, the Dyslexic association has warned that it would be illegal for Gove to introduce a qualification that would discriminate against dyslexics, whose struggle with exam environments is not a reflection of their intelligence, or how hard they worked. The exam emphasis would have a detrimental effect on the performance of all students with learning disabilities. Most serious are the comments from those in education, including Christine Blower, general secretary of the National Union of Teachers. They have suggested it will create a two-tier system, in which far more children will leave school without any qualifications at all. Certainly no credible, less academic route has yet been offered for those who will not suit the exam emphasis of the EBacc.

 Unnervingly, Gove seems poorly educated about education, and astonishingly in need of French practice as his recent announcement in parliament, ‘vive lE difference’ would not score him well in an EBacc exam. Education is not just how well you can sit exams, and if it were, most intelligent people would disengage from school very early on. For those with learning difficulties and from under-privileged family backgrounds, the EBacc is unlikely to recognize much of their intelligence at all. It is simply false to assert they will learn more in the process of preparing for the EBacc, just because it is exam focussed. School is about developing the whole individual, and learning valuable skills including in-depth research, interpersonal skills, creativity and problem solving, something that only coursework forms of assessment draw out. Exam success can be bought by a spoon-fed approach to teaching and focussed learning, something the private sector has always had the ability to achieve, whereas state run schools are far more challenging learning environments, sometimes with six times the class size. 

After considering how exactly Michael Gove’s EBacc intends to change standards, and the effect this is likely to have on education, it is not difficult to be appalled at how discriminatory the system will be on future minds. We should dread the effect the EBacc will have on the prospects of those who leave school with little or nothing to show for it. GCSE grades were inflated, but the EBacc is not the solution. It will not reward hard work or develop potential. It is more designed to burst kids’ bubbles and deflate aspiration. And has there not been enough of that from this government?

Review: Julius Caesar

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It’s a play where tricolons reign and rhetoric is king. And, although Julius Caesar inescapably concerns the assassination of its title character, the power in this play is generated more by the words themselves than by any tangible weapon of destruction. No dagger or knife wielded by the half a dozen conspirators is as pointed or as compelling as Mark Anthony’s appeal to his “Friends, Romans, Countrymen’; no death on the battlefield as resonant as the “Peace, Freedom, Liberty!” of the revolutionaries. 

And, fortunately for the 2pm Thursday matinee, director Gregory Doran proved he was more than worthy of realising this, his cast expertly showcasing oratory skills to rival that of any Downing Street quibble. Ray Fearon projects his Antony with real conviction and charisma during Casear’s funeral, his delivery moving both character and stage audiences, whilst the grizzly vocals of Jeffery Kissoon reveal a Caesar who is more benevolent leader than destructive dictator as reckoned by conspirators.

The link between Shakespeare and Africa may appear hazy, and at first, even irrelevant. After all, more than four hundred years have elapsed between the Elizabethan playwright and our Africa of today. But Doran’s motivations for recontextualise the piece becomes increasingly apparent as bubbling conspiracy is concocted, as the power hungry are never sated, and as political confrontation snowballs into furious civil war.

Catchy bongo rhythms and heavy African accents do more than to simply transport the play into a different continent; it makes the play as a whole become more intense, more immediate. These are the events we see all too regularly on the news, and designer Michael Vale’s statue of Caesar reminds us of this- it would be hard not to compare the looming statesman to that of Saddam Hussein’s toppling statue. 

Doran purposely omits any direct reference to specific locations of the vast continent, veiling the play in a certain air of ambiguity. For although the director may have decided to use an all-black cast, the generic label of ‘black’ spans a wide range of actors from different backgrounds and different locations- Nigeria, Ghana, Jamaica, Trinidad to name a few. A quality of the universal, then, is produced which allows Post-Colonial Africa to act as a timeless microcosm for the rest of the world.

Julius Caesar invites us to consider the nature of politics, to ponder: how can we really appraise our leaders until after they have finished leading? The dilemma is most apparent in Brutus’ pompous words that “we shall be called purgers, not murderers” following Caesar’s assassination, words which are undermined fully when civil war and turmoil blanket the land.  James Paterson wrangles into the character of Brutus perfectly, the actor revealing Brutus to be far from the noblest Roman of them all, but, perhaps more aptly, the most deluded; we witness a man who enthusiastically stabs Caesar in the genitals, a man who self-righteously beats his chest when talking about himself.

Shakespeare is prone to becoming stagnant if performed poorly, and what with the prospect of more than two hours of Julius Caesar to contend with, this was a very real threat. But Doran’s cast performed with a contagious energy and meticulous polish all around, even if the pace did falter somewhat during the military scenes – which had the tendency to be too drawn out. Nevertheless, the production has breathed new life into this tragedy, transforming a play of the past into a play of today.

Regrettable freshers’ facebook group behaviour

This is it. This is your whole year on Facebook. Or most of it. Discounting those who don’t have Facebook, obviously. Quickly scour through your pictures, think twice about giving a blow by blow account of the saga that is your packing experience. Freshers’ group etiquette is difficult to judge but there some very basic pitfalls to avoid. Oh, and the really helpful second years… they’re judging you.

 

Stupid questions will come back to haunt you.

For most it’s the excitement of a notification followed by a groan of disappointment. Yeah, people have questions; no one knows what to expect. But no, college doesn’t do your laundry for you. Yes, bring a bike. And saying you might bring a Segway instead isn’t funny or going to make you many cyber friends in advance. Frankly, you look like a bit of a prat. The contents of your freshers’s group never die. You will probably be reminded somewhere down the line, when renowned as the college’s biggest rugby player, that you once asked if you needed to bring an ironing board and an apron. The stupid questions carry on once you start too, and probably well on into second year. There is the tired, nay exhausted, frape, but asking a couple of hundred-odd people if you can borrow a pin gets old really very quickly. 

 

Eagerness is embarrassing.

The problem with Freshers’ groups is that they breed keenness and, if there’s one thing you don’t want to appear if you’re going for that air of disaffected cool, it’s keen. Apathetic and disinterested are much better for your social standing. This is by no means restricted to incoming freshers. For every interviewee who posts a picture of their college from the last time they’ve been up (still looking fundamentally the same as it has done for the last 500 years, although perhaps augmented with a squirrel/snow/large group of Japanese tourists), there’s that second year who just has the be the first one to answer any questions. Sometimes this turns into an arms race, with two people frantically trying to be the quickest to reply or the most helpful. They say it’s good intentions, but chances are it’s just to make sure they’re the most recognisable one on the RnB floor of Park End…

 

You think you’re a LAD? This will impress no one.

We’ve all been there: this is your very first opportunity to stake your claim as your college’s premier LAD/ LADETTE, and it’s time to get in there first. Stories of your banter will be whispered in hushed tones as you stagger around the quad, nursing a hangover and a bruise from that particularly brutal match or race. It’ll be ok though, because while you stagger you’ll have at least one, maybe three, other freshers doting on your every move, just waiting to hear stories of your intrepid derring-do, the time that you scored that try or the time you got so drunk you were thrown out of three clubs and STILL pulled. Trust me when I say this, the time to demonstrate your laddish tendencies is not the freshers group.

 

Don’t brag, you’re not that great.

You’ve managed to get yourself an Oxford offer. You either got lucky or are genuinely intelligent. Well done. It might come as a surprise to you then that every single incoming fresher is in the same position as you. You are not exceptional. Gently informing your peers that you managed to achieve 100 UMS marks in your Chemistry January exams will just piss people off. Sugar coating it with humility by insisting that you are “so surprised” or that you don’t know how you “managed it” is even worse. You will not come across as a shining beacon of intelligence but as very insecure.

Cultural Conversation Starters

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It’s almost time for Freshers’ Week, when groups of gangly 18 year olds gather for uncomfortably repetitious greetings, fancy dress parties and a wholly disappointing number of sexual liaisons. Those first few conversations will be some of the worst of your life, full of inane details about your school career and desperate attempts to find some mutual interests. Here, for the delectation of zealously researching freshers and older sharks looking for the ‘trending topics’ of Fresher’s Week 2012, is a Guide to How to Appear More Interesting Than You Actually Are Through the Medium of Culture.

Music

Dr Dre- It’s important that you pretend to like at least one conventionally popular artist. Even the weird music students can get behind Coolio or Snoop Dogg at Baby Love. After years of fruitlessly attempting to make a hoe a housewife, I finally had the situation explained to me by Dr Dre. Once you’re sufficiently familiar with his works you can even drop the formal title and just call him ‘Dre’, although you should try and make sure you’re not wearing chinos if/when this happens. If you can’t respect a rapper with a PhD then there’s really very little hope for you.

Sigur Rós- I’d never heard of this Icelandic band until I was searching for some suitably dramatic background music to my Prelims crises. Even Wikipedia describes them as ‘ambient’ so they don’t require much active listening, but they’ll make you seem knowledgeable and alternative (both good things, in case you were wondering). I even managed to use them as an example on my Literary Theory paper (which I passed!) so there are plenty of curricular uses for this band too.

 TV

Game of Thrones- Nobody likes someone who’s too self-consciously highbrow and brings the entire 7-season collection of The West Wing with them. Game of Thrones is the perfect lowbrow conversation piece- violent enough to appeal to people who consider rugby to be ‘fun’, political enough to replace arguments about the Middle East with ones about the Lannister/Stark conflict, and containing more naked breasts than a holiday with Kate Middleton. If this doesn’t get you through a few awkward freshers’ barbecues then I don’t know what will.

Breaking Bad- I’ve only seen one episode of it, but the pedantic insistence of everyone I know that ‘you really need to watch this’ has assured me that I’d have been much happier if I’d watched it all and been on the side of the pedantic insisters. So, watch this series and then bond with people as you knowingly declare that it’s ‘even better than Mad Men’ and repeatedly inform me that Bryan Cranston is ‘the dad from Malcolm in the Middle’. (WARNING: The side effects of this might include an exceedingly dull friendship group.)

Books

Fifty Shades of Grey- I think we’ve all toyed with ironically reading this book. Because we’re better than it, right? Aren’t we all cleverer than this EL James? Well, her bank balance might beg to differ but this will be sure to spark up some lively conversations about boring things like literature and the publishing industry, as well as interesting things like sex and typesetting. And, who knows, with enough alcohol and duct tape, this might just lead to the most interesting pre-drinking session since the discovery of beer pong.

Beowulf- I’d highly recommend that all non-English students read this so that they can smile knowingly when their English student friends are freaking out about it and then declare how much they enjoyed it and how they ‘didn’t find it too difficult, even in the original Anglo-Saxon’. The second reason for this recommendation is slightly more masochistic and I’m sure that, after a few lines of this epic poem, you’ll understand it. There’s a reason why this doesn’t come with the Richard and Judy stamp of approval that it so desperately deserves.

Movies

The Ring- Make of this American remake of a classic Japanese horror movie what you will, nothing sorts the corn from the chaff like a good scary movie. Be wary of anyone who desperately avoids watching it with you (like my friend who ran out of the cinema during the Breaking Dawn trailer before Paranormal Activity 3) and, if you play your cards right, nothing brings a timid boy and girl closer than getting frightened under the same blanket. That said, nothing spoils the moment faster than the smell of urine.

The Godfather II- You’ll want to seem intelligent and cultured when people inevitably ask you what your favourite movie is. Don’t pick anything too obvious (Citizen Kane, Taxi Driver and The Shawshank Redemption are all no-go areas) so why not go fractionally beyond the obvious with the greatest sequel ever made? It’ll make you look fairly cultured, whilst also not being so off-the-wall that it frightens people. In addition, it allows you to consistently recommend that people watch ‘the first Godfather’ so you can watch your favourite film together. Quickly people will assume that you’re very clever and slightly Italian.

Art

Rosa Barba- I Googled ‘cool contemporary artists’ in order to try and find a good artist for this section. The point of that wasn’t to try and unearth a genuine recommendation (although I’m sure that Barba’s video installations are fantastic) but so that you can see how easy it is to find an area of knowledge that makes you appear interesting. Honestly, if you can be bothered to put in a couple of hours of research, you can make yourself an Oxford-wide expert in modern art. Just make sure that you don’t go overboard and end up spending any significant time at Modern Art Oxford, with their boring murals and incredibly expensive pastries.

Édouard Manet- Real suggestion here. Who doesn’t love the father of impressionism? And, trust me, a reproduction of one of his celebrated scenes of Parisian life is going to look a lot better on your wall than Lucy Pinder (please, for God’s sake, leave that at home) or that bloke from Twilight (I know his name…). It’s not going to be a surefire hit and it might all be a bit too much if you’ve already got Cath Kidson bedding, but, if you’re willing to be a self-confessed connoisseur then this’ll make you look cleverer than a goggle wearing lab technician. 

Medical science facilities to be extended

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Oxford University plans to acquire the Headington Park Hospital site from the Oxford Health NHS Trust and turn it into a medical science centre. To supplement the John Radcliffe and Churchill Hospital biomedical research facilities, four new labs will be created on the site in Headington which adjoins the Old Road campus.

The development of the hospital complex is expected to take up to 30 years to complete. The main hospital will initially continue to be used by the NHS on a 20 year lease, but will eventually be knocked down.

The site, to include a multi-storey car park, restaurant, shop and gym, is expected to employ 3,000 people.

Professor Rodney Phillips, of the Nuffield Department of Medicine, said “For many years, biomedical research in Oxford has taken place on the John Radcliffe and Churchill Hospital sites, which we have developed. Currently building is taking place for the Kennedy Institute. We have developed our research so that, on some scales, we are the best.”

“This larger and better facility will lead to new ways of treating disease. Spin-off companies are often local, leading to many jobs being created. For the city and the county, the fact that the university is very strong in this area provides jobs and wealth creation.”

He also responded to critics, claiming that “We have put an enormous effort into consultation with residents, the council and the county council and I feel that we have addressed most of their concerns.”

“There is a very regulated environment. We have a travel regulatory plan, which means that Oxford will restrict access to the site, improve public transport, and encourage public transport for its staff, partly by making a contribution to the council.”

Local residents have expressed some concerns regarding proposals contrary to council policy, including building heights, increased parking, and how well the new buildings will blend with their environment.

Harry Edwards, Planning Secretary of the Highfield Residents Association (HRA), said ‘We hope that the Park Development Proposals will be more specific on how it intends to support the local community as its impact increases.”

The University have submitted the planning application to the Oxford City Council. Headington Action and HRA expect the City Council to review the proposal to assess the full impact on traffic, travel plans and gauge the efficiency of the use of the development sites surrounding Headington.

Travel Blog: South Africa

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Back in October, I decided to do an internship the next summer in Cape Town. With so much going on, I put it to the back of my mind. But the summer came around so quickly and I became tentative and wondered if I shouldn’t have explored the alternatives that were, perhaps, a bit nearer to home. As soon as I arrived however I was thrown into a completely different culture and environment, with a family that embraced me from the beginning, and I began to live the next five weeks as a Capetonian. I would need a whole book of memoirs to do my trip justice, but here I’ll just focus on a few highlights.

The brilliant thing about staying with a family is that they can tell you places to go to that, as a typical tourist, you would never know of or discover in a guidebook. Langebaan for example, a beach north of Cape Town, was not only stunning but safe for children, perfect for my host mum’s adorable grandchildren, and safe from sharks. I will willingly admit that the notion of sharks did tend to scare me, slightly. With the South African coastline hosting ‘shark alley’ at certain times of the year, (where Great Whites come to feast off the abundant seal population), I was tentative about venturing anywhere near the ocean, even just to dip my toes for a Southern Hemisphere mid-Winter paddle. Luckily the surfers are not so scared and False Bay, on the southern seaboard, boasts some of the best waves in the world. Or so we were told by a dude who, at the summit of Table Mountain in a biting wind and chilling mist, was still wearing a T-shirt and flip-flops, sported a tattoo of the WWF panda wearing sunglasses, had three duvets in the back of his car for his surf boards and lived his entire life according to the maxim ‘hike, surf and party.’

Most of our leisure time was spent wandering around and though I felt obliged to go to the Castle of Good Hope and the Company Gardens, afternoons spent hidden in cafes amongst wood carvings and beaded necklaces in Greenmarket Square were much more interesting. The same went for a shopping mall on the way to the Waterfront, where we felt completely at home in the Food Lovers Market or when staring into the ocean at Kalk Bay harbour a group of oversized seals appeared, hovering around for the insides of the day’s catch of snoek. Or Camps Bay where we took a trip on the first mildly warm day to lie on a deserted beach for the afternoon; the locals knew they had plenty of time to enjoy the sun when the summer properly arrived, but we as opportune Brits who head to the beach at the first sign of sun were not going to spend the time inside.

One of the things that struck me most was the wildlife. Even the Cape Peninsula is remarkable. I just couldn’t get used to virtually guaranteed sightings of penguins, seals and often dolphins in the water around Table Bay, and springbok, baboons and ostrich when venturing out further into the veld- I’m lucky to see a wild rabbit at home! On the boat to Robben Island I virtually leapt out of my seat every time a seal poked his head out of the water, to the amusement of my friend from San Francisco who remarked, ‘you don’t get many seals in England, do you?’ We also got to see a few Southern Right Whales in Hermanus, where in gale force winds we clung on to the rocks at Gearing’s Point in the chance that they might leap out of the water as they seem to do all of the time on television- they didn’t. We also managed to squeeze in a sizeable amount of wine tasting. As someone used to the cheapest bottle of bubbly from the Co-op, I put on my best wine tasting face and engaged in some proper wine chat about the ‘herbaceous’ and ‘woody undertone’ quality of the Pinotage grape. It seemed, at the time, a completely sensible idea to have 12 bottles shipped back to England… Though after a while, one wine did tend to taste just as fruity and rich and sweet as another, and I think instead of leaving the winelands with an educated pallet, I managed to just get steadily drunker as the afternoons progressed.

Despite one weekend driving as far into South Africa as the distance from London to Newcastle, I barely managed to scratch the surface of the country in terms of the amount there is to see. But the experience of living and working in Cape Town, coming home to a Cape Malay curry on the Metro or Long Street the night before the South Africa v Argentina rugby game made for the most fun, exciting and busy August, and it was just a bonus that it meant I managed to escape London’s Olympic hysteria!

New Oxford school of government opens

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Oxford University’s Blatvatnik School of Government has opened to students today, welcoming 39 scholars from 17 countries.

The Blavatnik School was first announced in September 2010, following a £75 million donation from US industrialist Len Blavatnik. This donation, the largest of the university’s history, was matched with a further £25 million from the university itself.

The Blavatnik School of Government is touted as Europe’s “first major school of government” by the university. Its aim is “to develop the world’s future leaders in both the private and public sectors.” It has attracted students from across the globe, from Kenya to Kosovo and Afghanistan to the Philippines.

The students come from a diverse background of professions and fields. This includes doctors and journalists as well as those who have worked in government, law and development.

The school offers only one course, a one-year ‘Masters in Public Policy’. The course is multi-disciplinary, with core courses in aspects of science and medicine as well as law, economics, international relations, history and philosophy. “Intensive” week-long practical modules will cover skills such as communication, negotiation, budgeting and strategy.

To ensure that finance is not a barrier to study, all students have access to partial funding, with 26 of the 39 having full funding provided.

The teaching will be provided by world experts in different areas, as well as a number of former government officials. In their first week, students will be taught by South African politician Trevor Manuel, UK shadow Foreign Secretary Douglas Alexander, and former UK Cabinet Secretary Lord Gus O’Donnell.

Professor Ngaire Woods, Dean of the School, commented, ‘We are excited see a diverse and exceptional group of scholars in the first class of our Master of Public Policy. To pursue the course, many are breaking from established careers in aid, medicine, engineering and journalism as well as government and international institutions.’

‘Over the next year, we will provide our students with the skills and knowledge to be exemplary and effective leaders – whatever their policy focus and wherever they work.”

A University spokeswoman played down concerns about the university’s ability to find college accomodation for students, claiming, ‘The first intake of 39 students at the Blavatnik School of Government is to be affiliated to a college and housed in the usual way.’

‘The University is committed to providing accommodation for as many students as possible, and ongoing developments such as the graduate accommodation building on the Castle Mill Site will be ready in time for the opening of the new Blavatnik School of Government building, which is due to open in 2015.’

She said that the School is planning ‘events which will be open to the wider University, providing a stimulating environment for staff and students to discuss and listen to new ideas on improved global governance and policy.’ The spokeswoman also told Cherwell that Oxford would benefit from ‘a strong and lasting connection between [the students] and Oxford.’

‘The university is committed to investing even more in postgraduate scholarships to compete with its top international peers., many of whom offer guaranteed full funding to virtually all doctoral students. This is why providing more financial support for graduates is a priority of the University’s fundraising campaign, Oxford Thinking.’

Chris Gray, OUSU Vice-President (Graduates), commented, ‘As far as we are aware, other courses have not had to reduce their student intake and the 120 new students that will be arriving this year will not have a significant impact on the experience of Oxford postgraduates as a whole.’

‘However, the Blavatnik School does raise wider questions about the recent, and much larger, expansion of graduate education at Oxford. OUSU continues to lobby the University to ensure that more of our current students are provided with housing and funding as a precondition to any further expansion.

He continued, ‘It is an area we will continue to watch with interest, though in this case we are optimistic that the flagship Public Policy course at the Blavatnik School will raise the expected standard of masters education at Oxford even higher.’

Travel Blog: Morocco

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Having a mother with a phobia of flying isn’t the easiest of problems to deal with. Our annual family holiday has always had a certain ritual to it; the three of us stand in horror as she marches over to the Duty free whiskey counter before boarding the 6am flight (because apparently the doctor won’t prescribe her strong enough sedatives). The other downfall is that long-haul flights are a no go. Don’t get me wrong, I have loved my family holidays in Europe to date, but when I say that over the 19 years of my existence I have possibly seen every cathedral in the continent, I’m not lying. So this summer I decided to jet off to Africa with two of my best girlfriends. I say “Africa”; Morocco is really only just-beyond Spain, but nonetheless it felt like a real adventure.

Marrakech

Flying into Marrakech, The 45-degree plus heat hits you like a stinking pile of camel-dung. Even with our Magicool and tourist fans at the ready, we definitely weren’t prepared for these kind of inescapable temperatures. A short taxi ride and we were in the centre of ‘The Red City’ surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the Jamaa el-Fnaa, the market square of the medina quarter of the capital. A luggage boy came to greet us and carried our rather bulging suitcases in his wheelbarrow all the way down the back streets to our hotel riad.  A slightly dubious goodbye greeting involving excessive pecks on the cheek and a cheeky bosom grope – which we were subsequently reassured definitely isn’t custom in this orthodox Islamic culture –  and we were welcomed into a haven of Arabian luxury. We happened to be the only guests staying in the 6-bedroom riad for the week, and consequently were spoiled by the staff with mint tea and fresh Moroccan dates at every opportunity.

It isn’t until the evening that the Jamaa el-Fnaa really comes alive. Rather aggressive looking monkeys owned by equally aggressive looking Moroccans are hoisted onto your shoulders as you stroll through the thick, hazy heat to the melody of snake charmers. The air smells heavy with saffron and freshly squeezed orange juice. Local women are having their hands embellished with brown and orange henna. It really is the most exciting and vibrant of experiences, only slightly ruined by the constant tourist-hounding. Being called “Shakira” and “Spice girls” solidly for 6 days quickly lost its initial charm.  We became quite fond of the friendly waiters at one of the pop-up restaurants, who tended to lure in the tourists with their witty British banter; they seemed to know more about East Enders, Gavin & Stacey and Manchester United than the three of us put together. Plus, who wouldn’t want to eat at a place with the slogan: “117 takes you to heaven”? Their lamb and prune tagine certainly did take us to heaven… several times over.

One thing that you can’t miss in Marrakech is the souks: a labyrinth of vendors trying to flog their metal teapots, fez hats, Moroccan tassels, Sex and the City 2- style slippers and copious amounts of jewellery. Having been warned that the value of most of the goods was only about 35% of the original starting price, we would completely lose track of time wondering around, getting lost and haggling with the locals. One afternoon, we ended up in an Aladdin’s cave style lantern shop, where the owner, who was rather keen on one of my friends, invited us for couscous with his mother whilst he tried to convince her to convert to Islam and become his wife. As flattering as it was, she decided that no marriage vows would be taking place any time soon, especially considering she was worth at least 10 camels more than he was prepared to offer for a bride price.

On our penultimate day in Marrakech, we decided to check out Nikki Beach, one in the chain of the global beach-club brand. It was absolutely stunning; a gigantic pool surrounded by white sun beds, and orange parasols, with beautiful people swanning around in cut-out swimsuits and heels. There wasn’t much time for sunbathing as before we knew it, the DJ decks behind us were blaring out house music and everyone was dancing round the pool in their bikinis. Having been deprived of a drink in what is mainly an alcohol-free culture, we went a bit overboard and started ordering magnums of rosé the size of our torsos (and in the process burnt an unjustifiable amount of our budget for the two weeks). Looking back at the rather shakey video footage we took on our phones, it looks rather like an episode of Boozed Up Brits Abroad: Classy Moroccans trying to relax by the pool, with us re-enacting a scene from Park End’s R ‘n’ B floor, screaming out the lyrics to ‘Rack city b****’.

Essaouira

Next stop on our trip was Essaouira, a relatively small city on the coast, directly West of Marrakech. It was beautiful; white washed buildings with blue shutters and doors. Even the taxis are blue. The other noticeable difference to Marrakech was the climate; the sea breeze brings the temperature down at least 15 degrees. However, this gave us a bit of a false sense of safety in the strong African sun, and we’d end up lobster-coloured after a mere few hours of wearing factor 30. Sadly, by the time we arrived in Essaouira, we had all gone down with a bit of a tummy bug. (On our last day in Marrakech we had seen the locals filling up mineral water bottles with a hose, which was slightly disconcerting considering we had been drinking it all week.) Nonetheless, we still managed to make the most of our time there; exploring the jewellery souks and watching the sunset over the sea every night.

We had been pre-warned about the so-called “Essaouira Boys”, who often have their hair in dreadlocks and wear tourist-like clothing to try and befriend – and potentially seduce – western women. We definitely met many an Essaouira-boy on the beach, who insisted on ‘complementing’ us by reiterating how white we were and referring to us as ‘crepes’. This just made us all the more determined to spend longer on the beach. In hindsight, this may have been part of their plan.

Taghazout

After a rather uncomfortable bus ride, where the advertised air-conditioning materialised as a small half-open window, we arrived at our final destination in Taghazout; a tiny fishing village further south along the coast from Essaouira. It is so quaint and beautiful with blue fishing boats lining the beach, alongside the camel-trekking route. There isn’t really that much to do in Taghazout unless you are into your surfing- it is globally renowned for its “good surf.” And with a day’s surfing instructing being so cheap, we thought it would only be right to try our hands at it. Needless to say we didn’t really learn a vast amount in one day, especially considering these large waves were probably best left to the professionals.

All in all, our visit to Morocco was quite simply amazing. Despite the slight hiccup in the middle of us getting poorly (most probably rosé and 45 Celsius induced), we would all go back in a second.

 

 

 

A national embralessment

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I’m taking bets: which royal body part will be photographed next? Perhaps Fergie’s belly button, or the Queens left nostril. Rumour has it the Greek press has its eye on Charles’ earlobe.

Doubtless the more patriotic among you were horribly outraged after Kate became the first royal to be caught topless in France since Louis the 16th had his head amputated. But whilst the invasion of Kate’s privacy was certainly egregious, the very forced response of bilious outrage from the national media, and the muddled comparisons with Diana, betray the very confused attitude we Brits still have towards those spoiled anachronisms we feed and clothe. And not least to women’s body parts.

The most notable aspect of this scandal has been the nauseating hypocrisy spewing out from the British Tabloids. Richard Desmond, owner of The Daily Star, is currently threatening to close down the Irish edition of that paper over its decision to publish the pictures. What a kind gesture from the man who also owns Red Hot TV and Television X. Meanwhile The Sun, having tragically used up the “defence of press freedom” excuse in showing us Harry’s bum last fortnight, has been equally critical of those posting Kate’s mammary glands. As far as The Sun is concerned double-standards are only a thing if somebody else has them.

Meanwhile, for the less shouty sections of the press the name of the game has been hyperbole. The French, we are told, have failed to learn the lessons of Diana, and soon no doubt, Kate’s buxom bazoongas will likewise be killed in an underground car crash. But the very comparison is so inane, so strangely morbid, that it seems almost hopeful. Indeed the media would love a new Diana, resurrected like a beardless Jesus, ready to cause scandals anew, and now with added bare-titty action. Someone to alternately pester and then become indignant and self-righteous over the excessive pestering that person receives.

Tony Blair famously said that Diana was ‘the people’s princess’, but she was more like the nation’s childhood pet goldfish. Britain watched her from behind glass, it loved her, fed her and paid endless attention to her and imagined (with childish naivety) that she loved us back. And then inevitably, perhaps after too much tapping on the glass of her tank, our over-enthusiastic childish negligence finally killed her. Then, wrecked with grief and guilt, we bawled our eyes out until at last daddy found us some new pet to love and abuse.

Any attention this story gets is symptomatic of our strange obsession with the royals: our ancient, 24 hour soap opera. Even people who consider themselves above the regal gossip pages of the Daily Mail still use their royal Majesties as a topic of conversation, albeit a more pretentious one. They are essentially hired entertainers. Following them helps us escape from our tired, mundane, sceptre-less lives. In a perfect world we would cut out the middlemen and the Windsors would be replaced by naked circus clowns who can have affairs with Egyptian-born sons of billionaires and play games of strip pool in Las Vegas at much lower prices.

When the French snapped those images of Kate’s unsuspecting chest, the outrage that followed was not just a fair response to an invasion of privacy. No, we were angry because the French had messed with our icon, our pet princess. Something only we should be allowed to do. The Royal Family are our own bizarre, functionless, flawed and beloved icons, and they belong to us.

There may be lessons we can learn from this incident about press freedom, privacy and national identity. But perhaps there something far more pertinent we can garner from the French. We could stand to learn a lot from the way they treated their royals: by ending this peculiar and perverse obsession and finally shouting “off with their heads!”

Pembroke’s New Build is still too ‘new’ for some students

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Students excited to move in to Pembroke College’s ambitious New Build are concerned that construction delays might mean they’ll be starting the term in a building site.

Pembroke Bursar John Church contacted second years moving into the site to warn them of ongoing work. Construction started in April 2011 and was to be completed by the middle of the Long Vacation.

Delays, including the wettest summer in a hundred years, have meant that “residual works” will continue up to Third Week of Michaelmas Term. Despite the setbacks, Church said that overall he is pleased, commenting “at the end of the day, a very complex and ambitious project, seven years in the making, will end up completing on budget with a very short delay.”

Pembroke’s new buildings will be connected to the main College site by a bridge, the first such structure built in Oxford since Hertford’s Bridge of Sighs in 1913. The bridge is expected to now open in Third Week, and until then students will access their rooms from the main street. The site includes a café, 4 seminar rooms, a 170-seat auditorium, and 116 new en-suite rooms, enabling the college to offer accommodation to nearly all undergraduates. John Church expressed his delight at the developments, calling them “truly transformational in every way.”

Contractors Kingerlee, who recently completed work on St Johns Kendrew Quad, are responsible for the project. Internal work will be carried out during the first few weeks of term.

JCR President David White contacted students to reassure them that, “more noisy, structural building work will be complete… at the very latest, by the start of first week.’ The Bursar added that student rooms have been prioritised for completion, so that “students taking up residence can live and work normally, even if there are residual works on going elsewhere… these minor inconveniences will soon be forgotten once everyone is enjoying the fantastic new facilities.”

Second year Nick Hilton is a “little sceptical” of such reassurance, adding “the idea that plastering and painting … won’t have an impact on students in the building is crazy.” David Butler, Rent and Accommodation officer at OUSU has stated, “Pembroke JCR may be justified in asking for compensation if the College has failed to live up to its contractual obligations or students’ legitimate expectations. OUSU, as always, stands ready to assist one of its affiliated common rooms on an important issue like this.” Cherwell has found no evidence to suggest that Pembroke has been in breach of contractual obligations with students.

The possibility of compensation was initially discussed by JCR President David White and the Bursar. Such compensation would be unprecedented and only considered if the rooms were ‘untenable’.

Pembroke’s Bursar is clear that there will be no such breach of contract, and David White has pointed out, “Nobody has yet taken residence in the New Build, and therefore any discussion on action at this stage is purely speculative.” Regarding noise or disturbance, students were reassured that, “if there’s anything you can be sure that academics will fight to protect, it’s the sanctity of silence.”

White asked students to “stay positive”, adding “the vast majority are very excited to be accommodated in the New Build, are delighted to have the opportunity to use its facilities and are simply proud to be involved with it.” Mathematician Laurence Hutton-Smith agreed, summarising “shit happens, I’m still psyched about moving in!”