пятница, 2 сентября 2011 г.

What a luck!

Today my students drove me crazy. The lessons were really funny and exciting! With second year students we tried to learn to sing Waka Waka by Shakira. It was awesome. Everything worked out well for us. What is more students of Oriental studies made me astonished. Two of them speak English quite well though I cannot say they are majors. Such is the reality!

четверг, 18 августа 2011 г.

Natural Disasters


The paradox of human suffering
By Deborah Orr
            In this year of cataclysm, it has become all too easy to recognize the pattern of information that mass death and maiming dictates. Early on, there is a period of incomprehension, a moment of paralysis during which there is only an abstract understanding of what has occurred. An earthquake, a tsunami, a terrorist attack, a famine, a massacre, a flood, a storm, a fire… The barest are before us, or at least are trickling ineffably through, but the desire to minimize the bad news overwhelms the dictates of common sense.
            The earthquake in Pakistan, India and Afghanistan on Saturday was being reported all through the weekend. But it is not until now that a real understanding of what has gone on is coming together. In the face of such damage, of course, there is sheer inertia, alongside the practical difficulties faced when disaster strikes poor, crowded or remote areas. But there is also a period of willful stillness from the spectators around the world, as if refusal to acknowledge the full extent of the damage will somehow be a bolster against it.
            For a full day after the tsunami struck last Christmas, there was talk of 300 deaths in Thailand, and of one British fatality, may be two. For hours after three trains and one bus suddenly and simultaneously exploded in London, the population of the capital clung firmly to the silliness of an “electrical fault”. For months beyond the warnings of coming famine in Niger, the world carried on as if this may not happen, as it has with famines so many times that lessons ought to have been thoroughly learned.
            Then, a hysterical brand of reality rushes in, filling the still pool of paralysis with a writhing, screaming tumult of stories that leave us slack-mouthed with the nightmare of it all. The aftermath of the hurricane in New Orleans was the most awful example of all, because the need and the chaos struck in a place and time of plenty, and suddenly the world saw how much more destabilizing than mere poverty wealth inequalities really were.
            This awful time usually inspires a sudden, shocking, irresponsible need to inflate the most awful of horrors with estimates of the dead and the injured that actually outdo the dreadful-enough reality. In this phase of the story, the horror transfixes, and stories of little orphans who have lost scores of close relatives, and mad-eyed mothers clinging to their dead babies, abound,
            Often, it is easy to see how such mistaken estimates occur. In the aftermath of the atrocities of 9/11, death tolls were being quoted at three or four times the eventual number, because there was an assumption that everyone who worked in the building, would have been in it during those incomprehensible moments. Likewise, in the wake of Hurricane Rita.
            At other times, though, and when human nature is at its least empathetic, it is clear that the overestimates are sociopathic, born out of a disconnected excitement at the awful scenes, and a scary movie desire for the horror to keep on mounting. It’s at this point, though, that revulsion as well becomes too much. No matter how terrible the devastation, there comes a point – usually when a baby is discovered alive long after its survival would count as a miracle – when people want to start looking on the bright side.
            Finally, the human interest stories take shape, as the living and the mourning emerge from their shock or their illness enough to give eyewitness accounts. Ultimately, when single human races emerge from the disaster and are hailed as somehow embodying it, the face is not of death  but survival – beautiful Davinia Turrell is literally unveiled as the woman behind the surgical-dressing mask after the London Tube bombings, plucky Ali Abbas is pictures grinning and merry as he stretches out his prosthetic limbs after the Iraq War, or Birhan Woldu is led on stage by Madonna, to be hailed by Bob Geldof as the face of famine survival and, of course, most importantly, “a bu-u-diful woo-ma-an”.
            Last, but not least, comes the political fallout. Here, sadly, the drive never really appears to be towards change. Instead, there is simply a need for blame-dumping. Will the Foreign Office perform any better the next time the bloated remains of British citizens wait to be identified in tropical heat? Will George Bush have a sudden revelation about the how divisive his economic policy is, post New Orleans? Will the corrupt local government that repaired the city’s levees with cheap concrete emerge as the inspiration for a sea change in local corruption around the globe and change their ways? Will a new system of funding disaster be inaugurated, whereby the money is waiting in UN coffers for the next emergency, rather than being drummed up in pledges once there are bodies to count? Will there be a move towards pursuing conviction under Britain’s new corporate manslaughter laws?
            The answer to each of these – possibly a bit, probably not much – says a lot about how tiny the human machinations called politics are, in the face of the epic story of human survival in an indifferent universe.
            And maybe, just maybe, that is the way we prefer it. The stories we tell ourselves and each other about a huge disaster, couched in terms that allow us to engage, at first reluctantly then passionately and then to select a positive image that offers personal and self-absorbed closure, are stories designed to help us to survive the cruel randomness of vulnerable human existence.
            But when we enter the public and political realm, what we crave is a different story, a mirror-image tale whereby a trifling mistake or misdemeanour can be writ large as somehow significant, somehow disastrous, somehow a piece of godlike fury or poetic justice, hubris punished or arrogance crushed. …
            Human suffering is either so horribly vast that people cannot face the fact it is being inflicted, or  so tiny and absurd that people cannot resist watching – at the least – as it is inflicted. The planet’s deepening paradox is that as the need for global political leadership grows more urgent, the very concept of such leadership becomes more farcical.

The Independent  Wednesday 12 October P.33  
           

Topical Vocabulary
Year of cataclysms
Mass death and maiming dictates
 An earthquake, a tsunami, a terrorist attack, a famine, a massacre, a flood, a storm, a fire…
the desire to minimize the bad news
to acknowledge the full extent of the damage
sheer inertia
strike poor, crowded or remote areas
be a bolster against
suddenly and simultaneously exploded
the warnings of coming famine
clung firmly to the silliness of an “electrical fault”
a hysterical brand of reality
leave us slack-mouthed with the nightmare of
The aftermath of the hurricane
mere poverty wealth inequalities
inspires a sudden, shocking, irresponsible need to inflate the most awful of horrors with estimates of the dead and the injured
outdo the dreadful-enough reality
death tolls
discovered alive long after its survival
start looking on the bright side
emerge from their shock or their illness
behind the surgical-dressing mask
stretches out his prosthetic limbs
the face of famine survival
a new system of funding disaster
human survival in an indifferent universe
survive the cruel randomness of vulnerable human existence
enter the public and political realm
becomes more farcical



Property


Older buyers go seaward

Edith Fordham may not know it, but she is helping to lead resurgence in retired buyers moving to the British seaside. Edith, who is in her seventies, has recently moved to a cottage in the West Sussex coastal village of Middleton-on-Sea. “Living close to the sea has always appealed to me. I’ve always had a soft spot for Middleton-on-Sea. It is just a short distance away from the beaches,” she says.
            Until the 1980s it was as huge ambition of retirees to move to the coast, but then the tradition got a knock as many older buyers starting purchasing properties  in the newly regenerated city centres, to make the most of improved shops, theatres and restaurants.
            But now it appears to be business as usual again, because new research by the over-fifties magazine Yours shows most of Britain’s 10 favourite retirement locations are by the sea.
            Skegness, complete with its bracing North Sea wind, comes a comfortable first. With the likes of Llandudno, the Shetland Isles Exmouth, in Devon, and Poole, in Dorset, close behind.
            Edith Fordham got her home through Economic Lifestyle (08000433366), a firm that buys and then leases out properties built by retirement sector specialists such as McCarthy&Stone.
            It reports a surge in demand for homes on the coast, a trend reflected also by house-builders who are piling in to construct large numbers of specialist retirement schemes in ports.
            “The coast remains a really popular choice. A lot of people like to retire to where they have friends that they have made on holiday, or where they have good memories of summer breaks earlier in their life. The attractions of Devon and Cornwall and the like remain strong,” says Suzanne Revell, of Churchill Retirement Living (08007837661).
            Like many retirement builders, the firm is expanding its work on the coast – of its 12 schemes on sale across the UK, six are in ports, from Seaton, in Devon, through the south coast and on to Kent.
            The very best retirement schemes from any developer will adopt a vernacular style to give the homes a still more coastal feel, and ramp up the luxury to show buyers that retiring does not have to mean sacrificing quality.
            For example, between Dover and Deal sits a court-yard development of 10 retirement homes called Knoll court, in the small town of Cliffe.
            Designed by the Canterbury architect Clague and built by the local firm Bourne Developments, they include flint-faced cottages and a weather-board Kentish coach house.
Meanwhile, in a 20-acre park overlooking the north Norfolk coast, Sheringham House  is an example of how sophisticated retirement housing can be today.
Each property has two, three or four bedrooms, and has secure underground car parking, and access to a snooker room and an indoor heated swimming pool, plus the communal parkland. Now some volume builders are joining the retirement road to the coast.
Firms such as Banner Homes, which usually builds flats and houses in the mainstream market, has the Terrace, in Southampton, where 25 apartment are designed exclusively for the over-55 age group.
But buyers have to pay handsome premiums for the good location, build-quality and practical convenience of specialist retirement housing.
For example, in the year to July, retirement apartments’ prices rose by 11.53 per cent, according to the retirement estate agency Retirement Homesearch, (0845880 5560).
Figures from the Office of the Deputy Prime Minister show that mainstream house prices increased by only 4 percent in the same period.
“For many years, we’ve seen  retirement property increase significantly, often at a faster rate than the general market, due to the increasing demographic demand. This is excellent news for existing retirement property owners and represents a good opportunity for potential purchasers,” says Martin James, of Retirement Homesearch.
Certainly, the retirement sector is growing faster than any other in the housing market, despite the high costs of buying.
Remember, too, that estate agents say any retirement property that enjoys a genuine sea view will have an additional premium – 40 to 50 per cent in the South-west and areas of southern England around Brighton, for example,  and 20 to 25 per cent around less fashionable areas such as Scarborough and Colwyn Bay.
“We and all retirement developers will look at any plots, on the coast ot inland, if they suit our list of needs for the demographics of buyers. The average age of our purchasers is 74, so all of our homes must be within half a mile of a doctor, a chemist, a supermarket and the like,” says Suzanne Revell.
“The trick is that if we can get all of those factors in a coastal location too, then we know that the development will be popular. These developments do sell very well – the coast is still a favourite for retirement.”           
The Independent 2005 Wednesday 26 October P. 16

Topical vocabulary
Be a huge ambition of somebody to move to the coast
Start purchasing properties in the newly regenerated city centres
Lease out  properties
Remain a really popular choice
Retire to where one has friends
Have good memories of summer breaks
Expand its work on the coast
Adopt a vernacular style
Give the homes a still more coastal feel
 Flint-faced cottages
Sophisticated retirement housing
Have secure underground car parking
Access to a snooker room and indoor heated swimming pool
Communal parkland
Pay for the good location, build-quality and practical convenience of specialist housing
Apartments’ prices
The increasing demographic demand
Represent a good investment opportunity for potential purchasers

New technologies


Need home help? It has to be maid in Japan
         By Elizabeth Davies
         Wanted: Reliable, unpaid personal organizer without emotional complications.
            No longer a problem. Just wheel in Wakamaru.
            She may not look entirely as you would expect, with a shiny face of canary yellow and metallic arms a delicate shade of silver. But this smooth-talking Japanese lady has the potential to be the ideal companion.
            For those with a tendency to feel sluggish of a morning, she can glide to your bedside armed with the news headlines and the weather forecast. For the organizationally challenged, she will willingly fill you in on the contents of your diary. And if you’re looking, well, a little rotund, she will urge you to fit in a light jogging session before you start the day.
            Friendly, charming and absolutely dependable, Wakamaru is all you ever wanted in an assistant. Within days she could become an immovable fixture in your life. The only thing is, she’s a robot.
            Wakamaru, the latest futuristic product to be unveiled by Mitsubishi, is the walking, talking result of a Japanese programme aiming to create a robot that comes as close as possible to a real person. The 3ft4in high humanoid is capable of recognizing up to 10 individuals by name and greeting friends and family in a soothing, gentle voice that betrays only the slightest hint of being chip-induced.
            “We have tried to create a robot you can have a relationship with, just like a human,” Ken Onishi, the technical team leader in charge of designing Wakamaru, said yesterday.
            While none of her features are entirely revolutionary, the robot’s overall package was a colossal task for designers, Mr. Onishi explained. Even in Japan, a country at the forefront of innovation in the robotic field, putting together a machine capable of combing all Wakamara’s gifts is an incredible feat of science.
            The team at Mitsubishi claims the internet-linked robot, as well being able to take phone messages and read out any e-mails that may have dropped in her owner’s inbox, has a programmed personality designed to ape as far as possible the warmth  and friendliness of a real human being.
            It has even been suggested in Japan that she is sufficiently adaptable to make her a suitable carer for elderly people with nobody else to look after them. Her frame contains an internal alarm system programmed to call emergency services if a person has an accident. Speech-recognition software and a built-in dictionary provide Wakamara’s vocabulary.
            The only slight snag in all of this is that, like most good things in life, Wakamaru does not come cheap. A limited edition of 100 robots goes on sale today in Tokyo at a cost of 1.575 million yen. As demanding as any other lady of style, she also requires a monthly maintenance charge of about 10,000 yen.

Topical vocabulary
Reliable
Unpaid personal organizer without emotional complications
Look entirely as you would expect
Have the potential to be the ideal companion
A tendency to feel sluggish
Glide to one’s bedside armed with the news headlines and the weather forecast
Become an immovable fixture in one’s life
The latest futuristic product
The walking, talking result of a Japanese programme
 Come as close as possible to a real person
 Be capable of recognizing individuals by name and greeting friends and family
A soothing, gentle voice
Be in charge of designing
The robot’s overall package
 A country at the forefront of innovation in the robotic field
An incredible feat of science
The internet-linked robot
Take phone messages and read out any e-mails
Have a programmed personality
Be designed to ape as far as possible
The warmth and friendliness of a real human being
Be sufficiently adaptable to make somebody a suitable carer for elderly people
An internal alarm system programmed to call emergency services
Speech-recognition software
A built-in dictionary

The Independent. 2005 Friday 16 September. P. 3


Famous People


Never share a press call with a grande dame
By Ian Herbert

The old adage about never performing with children or animals will not have been lost on Nicole Kidman during her 21 years in showbusiness, but two appearances with her latest co-star in Venice yesterday left her to reflect on why no one had thought to mention the dangers of Tinseltown grandes dames.
            Kidman, whose controversial appearance with an 11-year-old-boy in her new film Birth earned boos at its Venice Film festival press screening earlier this week, seemed to be  on safe ground when she appeared for a GMTV interview with her co-star, Lauren Bacall. Instead, she was privy to an outpouring of resentment in which, after the interviewer described the  the 37-year-old Australian as a “screen legend”, the 79-year-old Bacall insisted that she was a mere beginner.
            On the face of things, Kidman had nothing to fear in Bacall. They have past experiences of heartthrob screen husbands to swap (Humphrey Bogart for Bacall and Tom Cruise, who is also in Venice, for Kidman), Historical analysis also gives Bacall grounds for comfort: a survey of the most elegant females recently placed Bacall at seventh, way ahead of Kidman.
            But Bacall, who refuses to age or go out of fashion, has evidently taken no comfort from her plaudits. In the interview she cut off GMTV’s Jenni Falconer in mid-sentence when, after recalling her 60-year career, the reporter said: “And now you’ve worked alongside another screen legend, Nicole Kidman…”
            “She’s not a legend. She’s a beginner,” Bacall snapped. “She can’t be a legend at whatever age she is. She can’t be a legend, you have to be older”.
            Tensions were equally palable at a later press conference to promote the film. It started well for Bacall when she was greeted by a standing ovation. But as the conference wore on, it became clear that the assembled journalists were far more interested in speaking to Kidman.
            As question after question was directed at the Australian actress, Kidman pleaded: “Please ask somebody else”. When she was asked about her status as one of the world’s most famous actresses, she insisted: “I certainly don’t feel like a big star in Hollywood.”
            When a question finally did come Bacall’s way, she was not impressed. Asked who she  would like to come back as if re-incarnated (in the film Kidman plays a women whose dead husband has been reincarnated in the body of a 10-year-old), Bacall snapped: “It’s not a fascinating question. No offence”. This was from a woman best remembered for sizzling dialogue opposite Bogart in The Big Sleep, the classic adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s novel.
            Bacall has hardly been circumspect about modern actresses, or films, of late. In April she dismissed the majority of actresses as having no fashion style. “I cannot believe what they wear; they are all so overdressed,” she sighed. But she insisted that the exception was Kidman, a good friend to whom she played a supporting role Dogville and whose mother she plays in Birth.
            When she had re-composed herself yesterday, Bacall – who is also remembered for her part in Key Largo but who has no Oscar to match the one Kidman collected last year for her performance in The Hours – insisted that she and Kidman get along famously.
            “I love working with a young actress,” she said. “Nicole and I worked together on Dogville and we were friends when we started this. That laid the groundwork for our relationship on screen and off”.
            But, true to current form, Bacall said that she was not looking forward to last night’s premiere. “I take no pleasure in watching any movie I’ve been in or watching myself. [I am] not my favourite subject, obviously,” she said.  

The Independent. 2004 Thursday 9 September. P.9

Topical vocabulary
controversial appearance
earn boos at its Venice Film festival press
screen earlier
be privy to an outpouring of resentment
a mere beginner.
have nothing to fear
have past experiences of heartthrob screen husbands to swap
give grounds for comfort
refuse to age or go out of fashion
take comfort from one’s plaudits
promote the film
be greeted by a standing ovation
be far more interested in
feel like a big star in Hollywood
be circumspect about modern actresses, or films
dismiss the majority of actresses as having no fashion style
play a supporting role
get along famously
laid the groundwork for our relationship on screen and off
take no pleasure in watching any movie