Transcript
COURSE MAGAZINE Volume 6 Issue 1 28th June - 11th July 2015
Hello! It’s my pleasure, once again, to write these few words of introduction to this fabulous array of student writings that I hope will surprise and delight you as much as they have me. There are many highlights during the Oxford Summer Academy as we move into the second week of each course and the fruits of student labour become visible. The Course Magazine is particularly special because, while everybody writes so much throughout their studies, here is a forum where student work is brought together to be shared in public. I always think it’s so brave, and for all of you, as young academics, it’s a good habit to get into, to recognise that all the best of what you write should have an audience, that there is someone who, by reading, by absorbing what you have to say ends the process that began with your ideas and a blank piece of paper. I really hope you enjoy what you read and I know what pride our course tutors, your parents, and your teachers back at school will take in the work presented here - do share with them too. So I want to close by thanking all of the students who have contributed to the creation of such an engaging and wide-ranging publication, and to all your tutors for the stimulus and support in developing ideas and moving them so compellingly to the page. You end up being sole author, but for each one of us, there are so many influences that make us what we are - that is the great beauty of how ideas progress over time. Finally, I cannot close without thanking Harry McCarthy for his work as editor – a frequently unacknowledged yet essential role for any successful publication. Enjoy all you read. Andy Thompson Course Director
Welcome Reception Just hours after arriving in Oxford, OSA students, parents, and staff had the chance to get to know one another at a drinks reception followed by dinner in St Edmund Hall’s Wolfson Dining Hall.
Creative Writing Under the direction of Dr Antonia Mackay, five students have spent the last two weeks of the course taking the elective option of Creative Writing. Over five three-hour workshops, students experimented with various stimuli and produced an astounding array of poetry, prose, and editorial work. Below is just a small sample of what they have achieved.
Group Composition Atlas has fallen. An extraterrestrial aura rises in its place; one not of our world. It is eerily quiet, as the death experiences an unfathomable nostalgia as two meet again separated for too many eons, but no longer, as the sky falls into the Earth’s waiting embrace. The sunset ascends into the meek light of the moon; The sky is vibrant, and colours create a heavenly view but foreboding settles as an eternal curse crumbles. Winds as violent as those on Jupiter, too strong for Zeus to control As the world crumbles into Eris’ grip Pine trees panic at her sight, Storm clouds gather watching the events unfold Volcanoes erupt with more wrath than Achilles. Mortals and Gods are powerless to prevent the fated apocalypse; The earth then erupted and all, was, calm.
By Mary Davidson, Jessica James, Lin Khant Oo, Paige Johnston and Sukran Ecem Can.
Creative Writing Short Story I am in love. Or, I was. I suppose I cannot remain in love as the person I love (or loved) broke my heart. They shattered it. Fragments fell to the ground like pins and needles and I felt them ricochet through my body. Before this untimely heart break, I had fallen in love too many times for my crowded mind to recollect. But not once had I had my heart broken. Dropped, maybe, when the fleeting stranger evacuated my life, perhaps damaged when the words ‘just friends’ slipped from lips faster than rain in a storm. But never broken. Paige Johnston Not until now. On the day she entered my life, it was as though the Gods had awoken from their eternity of sleep and joined my side to guide me through the tenebrous archways of love that extended back to the creation of scintillating Eros. That day, the darkness dispersed as Apollo sent the suns kisses upon us. It was a beautiful day; not a cloud stained the sky, causing a blue so vibrant it could only be described as the colour of a lucid dream. Even at night, as the stars took over the suns duty, and his twin put Orion out to watch over to us, everything was sublime. It was also the day of scientific history: on that day, scientists finally managed to merge our world with the identical one, universes away. At once, every lone wolf gained an identical friend; twins became quadruplets and so forth. At first it was unnerving to think another me roamed the earth, identical in every physical way, but the other me is far away, wandering our collided earth. And from this merging, I met my love. From then on the world became bliss. From the way our lips touched; hers hot on mine, and mine too gentle on hers, fearing she was an ancient statue and the slightest touch would crumble her. But one kiss was the hook and before I knew it the colours emerged before me like the northern lights—beautiful and pure—and we kissed like her lips were ecstasy and I was an addict, dying for a fix. The story of our striking, incandescent romance, was one I could see in poetry, in art, whispered through generations. When I looked at her I thought of a line Sappho once wrote: ‘even in an age unlike our own, we will be remembered’ and for the first time I thought I did not need to be remembered, for what we had was locked in an infinitesimal moment so satisfying and pure that it was enough. The sight of her, on that fated, hazy-golden morning was enough to rip my soul from my being, fill it with whispers from the stars, and place it carefully back into me. And I thought, God, if this is love then let it consume me; let it drown me, let the waves carry my body far away while the water fills my lungs. I want to taste it and nothing else. I want it to fill me until I know no other feeling than this. I want to immortalise this feeling or I want to die feeling
Creative Writing Short Story (cont.) this way. Every moment I saw her, I discovered something new; the secrets of the universe were laid out before me. She loved stories, while I hated reading, and told me them all until I felt as wise as any man. We spent hours in each other’s company: hidden in alleyways, whispering secrets, stealing them from each other’s lips. She was beautiful. Her eyes were a glistening ocean, calmly slopping in and out of the bay, and when she smiled they lit up like ocean under a falling sun. She was celestial and being in her presence made me feel ethereal. But then it shattered. “We can’t do this,” she whispered, a drop of rain fell her from the heavens, sliding down her cheek. “It’s wrong; it’s forbidden. If we were to get caught…”she trailed off, ducking her beautiful face from sight. I didn’t speak for the longest time. If I didn’t speak, it wouldn’t happen. We could continue oblivious to the moment. But while I felt one way, it was clear she felt the opposite. “Say something, please,” she said. But I couldn’t. I had a thick tongue and couldn’t articulate myself without an array of stuttering and incoherent sentences. She was good with words, and I fail them. She made speaking look like art and I destroyed it with my clumsy hands. At last, I said, “But why? Why now? Things are so good.” She pursed her lips together in a thin line and looked up. Her eyes met mind and I felt my heart stop. “Because it’s dangerous. We’ll be arrested if anyone found out. We’d become a national news coverage. People will talk about us for decades, whispering slander until it builds up and buries us.” I risked a smile. I could not think of a better way to die. Buried under whispers of us. Us. I did not care if it was slander as long as they spoke of us as a paradigm. But she was not smiling back. The last breath of light fled her eyes. The Gods evacuated and the darkness was becoming suffocating. I wouldn’t survive this path. “Please,” I whispered, edging closer to her. She stepped back. “Please don’t do this. What’s changed? You were so happy with the simplicity of loving me and I loving you in return. What changed?” “That’s exactly it: there’s no simplicity to it. It’s danger; pure danger; dark danger. I cannot live every moment of my life in fear that this relationship will swallow me in my sleep. I want to go to bed with a light heart and a head full of bliss.” She sighed, reaching out for me. Flinching as her skin brushed against mine,
Creative Writing Short Story (cont.) she frowned. “We can still be friends. There’s no issue with that. No rules preventing us. No laws threatening us.” I was selfish, pleading against her wishes, for her to be the streak of gold in a black and white world. But despite our connection, despite the hours shared, running around in the dark, kissing under neon signs, fabricating love in abandoned places, mumbling ‘I love you’s in the crook of each other’s neck, she was not. “I cannot be just friends. It’s either all or nothing,” I told her. And she left. I was alone in a dark alleyway, my heart melting under Pompeii’s fury, trying to bargain with my eyes that now was not the time for tears. Save them, I thought, for a storm was coming. This is just a warning. Alone with my irrational thoughts, I found myself laughing. And I laughed all the way to my bathroom floor where all my feelings evacuated until I was left shivering on the ground. She’d come back, I thought. But she didn’t. Not the next day. Nor the day after. So I wandered to her apartment where my heart would shatter. Upon the door was a note, yellowed and frayed at the edges. Sprawled in childish handwriting, it read: ‘I thought you’d come quicker’ and a lengthy, articulate apology. I knocked on the door, unable to convince myself that it meant she was gone. “What are you doing here?” a man asked from behind in a repugnant peach shirt. “I thought you left days ago. Did you forget something?” My response was more abrupt then his. I darted out of the dilapidated building and staggered home with the symptoms of a drunk man until I once again found myself on the bathroom floor, spewing the formidable truth. Now, I gaze motionlessly at the peachy hue of my bathroom walls. I despise the colour, dying to paint it for years, but she loved it so I neglected the act. I realise now, this is as close to her as I’ll ever be again. Here, with her favourite colour staining the walls, her eloquent words in my hand, and staring into the bathroom mirror I see only her, not myself. There’s not an ounce of myself in the reflection; I am the one standing under flickering lighting and in the mirror is the girl I loved. Somewhere in our collided world, the other me roams freely; I am probably merely a fragment of memory to her. But here, in my bathroom, she is with me forever. Here, I can perpetuate our short, fated, love.
Creative Writing George the Unicorn’s Dairy Dear Diary, Today was a sunny day! I woke up to Dora the Explorer asking the map for love advice. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Nowhere!’ ‘Where are we going?’ And with that, I left my dorm only to see Chris Pratt attempting to calm the velociraptors debating the role of globalisation in the British economy whilst in the hall. ‘This house believes…’ ‘This house believes Chris Pratt being topless more would benefit the world!’ Chris Pratt rolled his eyes. I had a big breakfast, although Bruce ate most of it. After breakfast, I walked past the velociraptors again, catching glimpses of them tearing one another to shreds. Apparently, Chris Pratt’s shirtlessness caused a lot of anger between houses. I made my way to Oxford International College, as Dora kept singing ‘Bridge, Subway, OIC!’ I walked through the doors and was greeted by Ron in his maroon Gryffindor cape, telling other students NOT to be late for punting that afternoon. Neville was beside him and proceeded to ask those with incomplete contracts for the phone number of themselves, their great aunt, and their dog’s trainer. I met up with Dora and we made our way to Philosophy. Dr Zeuss and Obi Wan Kenobi were waiting for us. The class was paused as chaos erupted outside. Maleficent was red in the face as Darth Vader sighed and said, ’You did okay.’ Obi Wan Kenobi shut the door, leaving the close-to-erupting argument. I went outside to check and saw Maleficent looking really upset beside the photocopier. I went back in to listen to Obi Wan Kenobi talk about ‘what it means to be good’ and ‘what a Jedi master is.’ The class finished and I went to my minor on the politics of Westeros taught by Mr Stark. I sat down as Mr Stark (‘call me Ned’) began lecturing, talking from the head he held under his arm.
Creative Writing After PoW had dragged on, I left college with Buzz Lightyear and Woody for lunch, then rushed back to Creative Writing class with Maleficent, her two raves atop her shoulders: pets that she had loved very dearly, as she would so often tell us. She taught us how to rain stories with fantasy elements; it was so much fun! When Creative Writing ended, it was time for punting. C-3PO was waiting for us. ‘Please do not fall in! You will die! And your parents will be mad at me!’ So I must go or else I will be late, and I don’t want him to give me extra work in the library… By Mary Davidson, Jessica James, Lin Khant Oo, Paige Johnston and Sukran Ecem Can.
Creative Writing Women in Marvel Today, when you go to the opening day of a superhero movie, you don’t see theaters packed with schoolboys anymore. Comic book movie franchises have a broader target group now, which includes women, children, teenagers and adults. So it is rightfully awaited that these franchises provide every target group with characters they can relate to and identify with. A recent market research says 46.67% of comic fans are female. This means that the interest in comics are now nearly equally divided Ecem Can between men and women. One of the leading character-based entertainment companies, Marvel Entertainment, seems to have realised this fact but is not so fast to act out on it. Marvel’s Avengers: Age of Ultron, which was released internationally in May this year, was a huge success, grossing over $1 billion in international box office. A huge part of the movie’s fans were women – of all ages. But still, it was remarkable how one of the movie’s leading female characters, Black Widow had significantly less merchandise in Marvel Entertainment’s official merch shop. You could find dozens of T-shirts with the male Avengers etched on them, mugs, key chains and pencil cases. A remarkable scene from the movie featuring Black Widow was turned into a toy – without Black Widow! This caused outrage among female fans of the franchise, questioning if the lack of female characters in the merch was because it would be easier for Disney/Marvel to sell their princess toys to girls instead. Various actors who had roles in Marvel Cinematic Universe voiced their support too. Mark Ruffalo (Bruce Banner/the Hulk) tweeted mentioning Marvel that more Black Widow merch was needed for his daughters and nieces, while director of the both Avengers movies Joss Whedon expressed interest in developing a solo Black Widow movie and having more female superheroes in Marvel Cinematic Universe. Although it is still unclear if this is an idea we could really see on the big screen, but it is still promising to see that people who play key roles in the development of the MCU are willing to give female characters more chance. Although this merchandise controversy brought the need to highlight female leads more in comic book franchises, we can’t deny that we have come a long way. Thanks to the rivalry between two leading companies, Marvel Entertainment and Warner Bros., which owns DC Comics, we’re
Creative Writing getting more and more superheroine-centred material each day. After Warner Bros. announced that they would be releasing a line of Wonder Woman merchandise related to their DC Comics movies, Marvel realized that their franchise should be directed more towards women and at the beginning of June, they made the announcement that for their upcoming movie Captain America: Civil War, there would be more merchandise aimed at women featuring new supporting characters… …the entirety of which are men. It seems like Marvel has missed the point this time. But thankfully, they are better at representing women in written work. We are getting our Black Widow backstory as a Young Adult novel and a new, female Thor in the upcoming Thor series. For the future, they’ve got a solo Captain Marvel movie planned, which will hopefully save us all from the dominance of male superhero leads on big screen. When it comes to the small screen, they’re good. We have lots of independent strong women kicking ass in original Marvel series. From Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and -my favourite- Marvel’s Agent Carter to A.K.A. Jessica Jones, Marvel is showing the capabilities of his wide variety of female lead characters in these original Netflix series. As in all fields today, the improvements and changes we await from these big entertainment companies are coming thanks to the rivalry between them. And whatever the outcome may be, the winning company will be the one which listens to the demands and wants of his fans, which is, in today’s case, the inclusion of women in franchises.
Creative Writing Why Burmese is the Most Complicated Language in the World
Lin Khant Oo
When someone asks you what the most complicated language in the world is, you probably have a few languages in mind: Finnish, Mandarin, Japanese, English, etc. But this month, I will show you why Burmese is far crazier than those languages. You may think Finnish is hard, but that’s only because it’s from a different language family than English. English is a West Germanic Indo-European language and Finnish is a Uralic language (like Hungarian). This means there are few similarities between words in English and words in Finnish. But guess what? Burmese is also from a different language family than English. Burmese is a Sino
-Tibetan language. Mandarin Chinese or Chinese in general seems ridiculously hard but it’s not complicated. You learn some basic pronunciation and some strokes and start memorising. Sure, memorising is hard, but you have to memorise in English, too. There are so many weird spelling rules that you might as well memorise a lot of the spelling. ‘But, wait!’ you say, ‘You can’t sound out the spelling for Mandarin. At least not as much as in English.’ Yes, that’s a good point, but the language is still rather simple (but difficult to learn). Japanese is sometimes thought of as complicated because it is 1/3漢字, 1/3 ひらがな and 1/3 カタ カナ. The difference between the three is the context of the word and its history. As it is also 1/3漢 字(Chinese Characters), it has the same hard to learn aspects as Mandarin has. Another common “hard” language is English. There’s always some person who thinks his/her language is the hardest to learn (Case and point: I am claiming my language is complicated). This is often pointed to the fact that the rules are very inconsistent and because the spelling has little to do with the actual pronunciation. For example, there are around 8 ways to pronounce “ou” (Though, Through, Borough, Ought, etc.) But let me introduce you to the crazy linguistics of Burmese by starting with the writing system. The system seems to be an alphabetic writing system mainly because there are “alphabet” charts when people are first taught Burmese. The same symbols repeat again and again- so it seems very much like an alphabet. But it isn’t.
Creative Writing The writing system is an abugida- which is a prevalent writing system in South and Southeast Asia. Arguably the most well-known abugida is Hindi. The difference between an alphabet and an abugida is that in an abugida, vowels are seen more as modifiers to the consonants than actual sounds. While many people who have basic knowledge of Burmese will claim that there are 33 letters in Burmese, in reality there are 33 consonants in Burmese, because people don’t consider vowels to be letters. There are 12 vowels in the Burmese Alphabet that is separate from the “letters”. To make this even more confusing, there are a bunch of extra “letters” that really act more like Chinese Characters than letters. There are 10 of them that are actively used (more on active usage later). Why does this exist? Because history! The more frustrating part about these extra characters is that they could very easily be represented by the 45 other characters. […] So we now have an abugida, that’s almost an alphabet but not quite, with 45 letters and 10 characters including 14 double letters with the same pronunciation. But let’s get crazier! As I mentioned at the top of this article, Burmese is a Sino-Tibetan language. It stems from the Tibetan branch and is in the same family as Mandarin. For a native Burmese speaker, learning Tibetan is like an English speaker learning German. A Burmese speaker learning Mandarin is like an English speaker learning Spanish. Mandarin is known for being a tonal language, which, to put it simply, means you have to sing it. Burmese is also a tonal language and it is evident when you hear badly translated cover versions of pop songs sound strange. […] We now look at the horrors of Romanising Burmese. How would you pronounce “Thet Htet Naing Hla Wai”? The answer is “Thet Tet Nine Loa Way.” It doesn’t help that there is no official Romanisation system. From my experience, non-Google non-Burmese sites like to use a totally different style of Romanisation from the Romanisation that is popular in Burma. I don’t like either style. I don’t really like the non-Burmese style of Romanisation because it accents weird parts of the word and is not used by the people who are speaking the language. Rangoon is pronounced Yangon and Pegu is pronounced Bhago. I don’t really like the Burmese way of Romanising because it is simply wrong and difficult to read. Htoo, Too and Thoo are the Romanised form of what sounds more like Too, Thoo and Thoo respectively. Slapping an H in front of words don’t make it easier for Westerners to read, it makes it harder. The “ein” sound is often Romanised as “aing” for some reason
Creative Writing Why Burmese is the Most Difficult Language… (cont.) I don’t really understand. Now that we have the basics (just joking…) covered, let’s get to the more crucial part of the language- Words and sentences. Words are often one, two or three syllables. There are, however, thousands of idioms that when translated literally makes little sense. This is very similar to Mandarin. Burmese idioms often include repetition. When you arrive to Burma, you will be landing a NationNation-Concerning-Authority Airport. Of course the Nation-Nation-Concerning-Authority (Pyi Pyi Saine Yar) is an idiom for International. Besides this, you have the usual spelling rules with exceptions and weird pronunciations that have nothing to do with the spelling. […] This brings us to grammar. Yay! There are 8 parts of speech in the English language (and most other languages).There are 9 parts of speech in Burmese. You have the usual Noun, Verb, Adjective, Adverb, Pronoun, Preposition, Interjection and Conjunction; you also have an extra part of speech that we have no choice but to call Things in English. Things are follow-ups to other words that object add some meaning and context. Since there are no quotation marks, objects specify when the person starts talking and stops talking in the middle of the really long run-on paragraphs. There are often different objects to use in different contexts that make Things really complicated to use and understand. Things made Google Translate’s job very hard because it tried to translate Burmese without acknowledging this 9th part of speech (which is understandable if you know the programming behind Google Translate). Did I mention that there are 46 types of prepositions in Burmese? This entire article is rather subjective because I’m really just venting my frustrating at trying to learn Burmese and English simultaneously. Burmese is not easy to learn, but no language is really that easy to learn. I have also never been exposed to African or Native American languages, which may as well be a lot more complicated than Burmese. Other Southeast Asian languages have many of the same problems as Burmese (but not as much in my opinion), so they may as well be complicated. So keep in mind that I was simply listing all the complicated parts of Burmese in an attempt to convince you that Burmese is rather complicated.
Creative Writing Twelfth Night—Review
In a strange display of crossdressing, drunken gypsy music and homoerotic subtext, the Oxford Shakespeare Company’s production of Twelfth Night manages to deliver a complex and meaningful plot while somehow managing to make audience members fall off their seats laughing. The company’s unique adaptation of mistaken identities sets the fictional land of Illyria in a strangely surreal gypsy camp, and Mary Davidson maintains this informal and bizarre atmosphere through the prevalence of rather questionable music, performed by the actors themselves, and a visible backstage area. The set design is simple and unchanging, yet innovative and effective, and the costumes are at once messy and primitive, convincing and compelling. With a cast of only eight performers, the company manages to portray fourteen characters almost seamlessly through surprisingly effective costume changes. The performance of each cast member is outstanding, although those of the fool, Feste, who is deceptively intelligent beneath his jokes and tricks, and the cross-dressing Viola (aka Cesario) are particularly impressive. Each moment in the play is carefully engineered to deliver plot or humour. Olivia’s proclamation of love for a horrified Viola-as-Cesario has us laughing throughout the scene as Olivia tackles her unwilling ‘lover’ to the ground, while Malvolio’s appearance in yellow skinny jeans and a BDSM leather harness causes us all to risk our oxygen intake from our raucous laughter. Overall, the production’s effective handling of the play’s plot and humour, along with its compelling performances, overcomes the slightly off-key music and transparent production aesthetics to produce a version of Twelfth Night that is innovative, effective, and hilariously entertaining.
Creative Writing The Art of Crossdressing: Why Gender Neutrality is Important Growing up in a world of women clad with silk blouses and ankle -length skirts sitting atop their tummies and a fabricated jewel mine kissed by colour and silk stitches draped onto their shoulders, spun around their waists and pinned into approximately five folds where the fabric ends…I knew not so much about men’s clothing, nor did I really care. I came into an age where the crisp cut of a suit lapel and how it contrasts in a low light with a man’s choice of tie and how it may match his cufflinks just as well might please me. Stocky Jessica James pastel-colored trousers that often mimic the shades of the evening sky paired with sharp dress polos or tunics or checkered sweater vests are less about the elitist schoolboy look, more about how good anyone could look in them. Because the delicacy of the anatomy of menswear is too short-lived and special to resist (frankly because beauty lies in simplicity). Men and women’s finger rings are additionally imprinted by a parallel beauty in which a cut jade set into a gold impression may glisten off a man’s thumb as well as a woman’s. God (be there one or not) said on the eighth day “Let there be fashion” just as Adam and Eve let loose the grasps they’d had on their own innocence and the first man had no need to conceal his breasts while the first woman…not so much. Now, a man would normally be reprimanded for sporting a fuchsia cropped top with fishnet stockings in a city street; women with buzz cuts and sagging trousers could be washed out in the same way. Reruns of Rupaul’s Drag Race is a certain no-no for most parents as it has the ability to encourage kids to be something they’re not (or something socially unacceptable, rather). The new parents of an unexpected transgender child will blacklist their choices, take the steps to provide them with conversion therapy at their local bigoted church; daddy’s little girl couldn’t possibly be seen with a wife-beater gracing her newly naked neck and muddy trainers in her still-feminine step. The problem with clothing stigmatism goes beyond what style suits which gender. Fabric shouldn’t be assigned a gender identity in the first place. To give a piece of clothing a masculine or feminine aspect (and an additional marketing cost, on that note), to brand an X or Y chromosome onto a T-shirt collar tag residing next to the size, is to, perhaps, give the shirt on your back a soul of its own. But to grant an inanimate being an animate
Creative Writing quality is giving a counterpart of ours too much power for its own good. Clothing should receive its power to look wonderful as spectacular once it circles around one’s legs or curves into their chest. Those who cross-dress often find the typical dress of their opposite sex to be a new and exciting element, something that may empower them and break the confinements of gender that more and more people are coming to see in this day and age. Society’s Venn diagram of man versus woman begins to defeat its purpose as the middle portion portraying similarities expands with each day and the exclusivities on either side gradually vanish. My thoughts on crossdressing overlap each other like the steps in the high-heeled walk of a premature drag queen. It surely shouldn’t mean much, but at the very same time, it means absolutely everything. The social power harnessed through how you present yourself in everyday and not-soeveryday attire illustrates a world in which fashion is the utmost form of expression and means to break free from the restrictions of the human body. And with this in mind, a piece of clothing that one may wear should not be limited to their sex, but rather portray their soul.
French Creative Task: Designing a Restaurant Mon restaurant s’appelle « Chez Julia » et c’est un restaurant français et chic. Dans le restaurant il y a treize tables : quatre tables pour deux personnes quatre tables pour quatre personnes, quatre tables pour huit personnes, une table pour dix personnes.
Giulia Manca
Il y a un piano, un bar, une grande baie vitrée et deux toilettes. La cuisine est au coin de la salle. Les murs sont de couleur crème et bleu clair. Mon restaurant est situé à Paris, dans l’Avenue des Champs Elysées, au centre-ville.
RESTAURANT REVIEW Samedi dernier je suis allée au restaurant qui s’appelle Chez Julia. C’est un restaurant français et chic. Comme entrée j’ai pris une salade. Comme plat principal j’ai mangé un filet de thon aux tomates. Comme dessert j’ai choisi un soufflet au chocolat. Comme boisson j’ai bu un jus d’ananas. C’était délicieux! MENU ENTREES tomates, mozzarella et basilique; œuf mayonnaise; salade; soupe aux champignons; ratatouille PLATS VIANDES filet de caneton aux legumes; bifteck garni; foie ; omelette au jambon POISSONS moules marinières; filet de thon aux tomates; poulpe et pommes de terre; homard aux tomates et oignons DESSERTS souffle au chocolat; glace (de fraise, chocolat, vanille, pistache); gâteau de fraise et chocolat; fruits; crêpes
French FROMAGES fromage blanc, miel et oignons sucres; roquefort fromage, roquette et noix; salers fromage et confiture d’abricot; assortiment de différents fromages VINS ROUGES Bernard moreau; Château saint-Robert; Bourgogne rouge; Chambertin; Chambolle VINS BLANCS Domaine Poucher; Sauvignon; Château des Pertonnieres; Beaujolais; Vin de pays de Loire ROSE Château Simone; Domaine de la Begude BOISSONS NON ALCOOLISEES Eau minéral; Eau pétillante; Coke; Jus de fruits (pèche, ananas, orange et pomme); Limonade; Café
Photography Students taking this course’s Photography elective have spent the past two weeks working with Becky JarvisFoster to produce a series of images under the heading of ‘The Essence of Oxford’. Below is just a small sample of some of the astonishing work they have produced.
Ataa Qahwaji
Photography
Aysu Ingrid Haker
Photography
Julia Golikova
Photography
Lila Jacobs
Photography
Mariana Spiridon
Photography
Mohammed Alomar
Photography
Sara Agalliu
Photography
Punting Students and Entz team members took advantage of Oxford’s fine weather by taking a punting trip down the River Cherwell. A great deal of fun was had by all, and several students discovered that they have a hidden talent for this great Oxford tradition!
Theatre Trips In the first week of the course, students had the pleasure of attending two open-air theatre productions of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and Twelfth Night. As is clear from the pictures, students really enjoyed being entertained in some of Oxford’s most beautiful outdoor locations!
Bourton-on-the-Water The first excursion of the course saw students and Entz members heading out of Oxford to the Cotswold village of Bourton-on-the-Water, where students enjoyed some free time in the charming surroundings before heading on to Stratford-upon-Avon, the world-famous birthplace of William Shakespeare himself.
Stratford-upon-Avon
The Gala Dinner After a fortnight of hard work and enjoyment, students and staff attended a gala dinner to mark the end of the course. Three sumptuous courses, followed by a formal certificate presentation, provided the perfect way to celebrate all that had been achieved over the past two fulfilling weeks.
The Gala Dinner
Who’s Who... STUDENTS
Ahmad Abu Al-Makarem Andre Queirolo Anna Dafni Skarlatidi Anna Puzikava Ataa Qahwaji Aysu Ingrid Haker Christian Ciofu Christina Ramming Ecem Can Ekin Kara Elizabeth Tiffany Setiarman Florian Kaulhausen
Giovanni Borgonovo Giulia Manca Isabel Draper Jessica James Josef Tanzer Julia Golikova Julia Pałejko Lauren Drysch Lila Jacobs Lin Khant Oo Mariana Spiridon Mary Davidson Michael Plumaris
TUTORS
Michelle Huang Mohammed Alkhathlan Mohammed Alomar Omar Al-Hayek Paige Johnston Poorva Parashar Roxy Travers Sara Agalliu Thomas Romano Ulysse Trin Yubin Cho Zuzanna Pałejko
Antonia Mackay (English/Creative Writing/Essay Writing) Becky Jarvis-Foster (Photography) Christine Marshall (French) Joel Scott-Halkes (Oxford Walking History) John Clare (International Relations) Josh Lowe (Philosophy) Kainan Dong (Mandarin) Lesley Parker-Collins (History) Lorenzo Santorelli (Pandemics) Matt Tompkins (Psychology) Melody Ihuoma (Law)
Mikhail Rakovshik (Economics/Mathematics) Mili Kalia (Sociology/Psychology) Minh Nguyen (Economics) Nadeem Ahmed (Critical Thinking/Public Speaking) Rachel Sullivan (Law) Rafi Peters (Sport) Rehana Bari (Mathematics) Sam Maese (Medical Biology) Simeon Masmanian (Particle Physics and Mathematics) Thomas Lunt (Oxbridge Preparation) Tiffany Keep (Medical Biology)
MANAGEMENT
PASTORAL TEAM
Course Director General Manager Director (OIC) Resources Manager/ Assistant to the Course Director Residential Manager
Andy Thompson Genevieve Dear Mario Peters Harry McCarthy Eddie Jacobs
Night Wardens
Entz Team
Eddie Jacobs Harry McCarthy Lesley Parker-Collins Celia Underhill Helen Vatidis Lucy Marshall Rafi Peters Sam House Virali Dattani
