The Cambridge Collective - Issue 7

The Cambridge Collective

Summer Term 2024

Issue 7

Food Food - A Flavourful Feature of Fiction Gastronomy and Culinary Arts

The CHS Alumni

Jude Josephine Abou Mechrek Get to know Recipes

Sheila’s Champorado Potato Pave French Macaroons

Mrs Barnes Mr Fordham Miss Petito

Short story

A Nefarious Lunchbox and Taco-Magic

Stefanos Mores

Dana Zimmer

CHS L1-3 Art & Design

Anna Savrasova

Natasha Tatham

Teddy Tatham

Anya Coren

Alice Sculthorpe

Editor's Letter Dear Reader, A scrumptious welcome to Issue 7 of The Cambridge Collective! This issue’s theme is “Food”; a daily essential for all of us and something many enjoy creating and/or consuming. This issue begins with two fabulous feature articles by Leo and Crystal, explaining to us the importance of food in literature and elegantly portraying the ingenuity of a fictional chef. Following the feature articles, is a collection of delectable recipes, guaranteed to make your mouth water!

As always, the Get To Know Your Teacher series will allow you to learn more about beloved senior school teachers Mr Fordham and Miss Petito as well as adored prep school teacher Mrs Barnes. We are excited to welcome back Jude Abou Mechrek – a cherished CHS alumni.

The Cambridge Collective Editorial Editor

Xenia Plarre

Deputy Editor

Bo Burnham

Junior Editor

Winwin Shinpat

Lead Writer

Leo Brown

Creative Director

Bo Burnham

Do make sure to have a leisurely read through our riveting short story section supplied with handmade stunning illustrations. I would especially like to point out the short

Creatives

story “A Nefarious Lunchbox and Taco-Magic”; it is a collaborative product of a CC club meeting – a true representation of what The Cambridge Collective is all about.

I am proud to say that virtually all illustrations in this issue

Illustrators Bo Burnham, Natasha Tatham, Teddy Tatham, Alia Barry

have been created by our own incredible illustrators. It has truly been a sweet treat working on this issue. A big thank you everyone who contributed to Issue 7!

On behalf of the Editorial Team, we hope you’ll enjoy every

Layout Designers Claire Enriquez, Bo Burnham, Xenia Plarre

bite of this issue.

Xenia Plarre Editor

Editor's Note: The articles, pictures, diagrams and all forms of content presented in this publication do not in any way represent or reflect the views, opinions or beliefs of the publication and of the editor's team.

Guidance Mrs Howard, Mr Boylan

Table Of Contents Food Food - A Flavourful Feature of Fiction Gastronomy and Culinary Arts: An Epiphany of Flavours, A Gastronomic Symphony

6 8

Recipes Sheila’s Champorado Potato Pave French Macaroons

11 12 14

CHS Updates Student Council

17

Extracurricular Activities Interview with Nikolas Koulouris-Gilbert

18

Tips Tasty Photos

20

Prep School Do you want to have fun and make new friends?

Meet Mrs Barnes Prep 5G’s Calendars Poem - My Favourite Food

22 23 24 26

Get to Know Meet Mr Fordham Meet Miss Petito

27 30

Weird Words

33

Clubs Art & Comic Club

34

The CHS Alumni Jude Josephine Abou Mechrek

36

Poems Mug Terence, This is Stupid Stuff

38 39

Short Stories A Nefarious Lunchbox and Taco Magic The End of David Jarcin The Elderwich Gardens

40 42 44

Comic Aesop The Greedy Fox

50

House Competitions The Origins of Our House Mascots House Leaderboard

51 55

Food A Flavourful Feature of Fiction Written by Leo Brown Illustrated by Teddy Tatham

Food, like culture, creatures and countries, is an incredibly effective way to create the feeling of a ‘real’ other world. In this sense, food can be a great way to flesh out a story and to bring it alive. The reason why fictional food makes stories better is that we all have favourite foods and experience the need for food several times a day. Like speaking, sleeping and moving, eating is a central part of our lives which we can all understand instinctively.

Thus, characters in another world appear more realistic if they eat food.

or the strange “square sweets that look round”, to name but a few.

Another example of food being fun are the magical sweets in Harry Potter: would you be fast enough to catch the chocolate frog before it escapes? Would you dare to taste Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans?

You have to be careful with them though, or you’ll get earwax!

Food can also be crucial to the plot: Green Eggs and Ham for example, is a book entirely about how the character would like to eat the food (green eggs and ham). In Dune, the entire empire battles over the control of the Spice, which gives the consumer visions of the future, and in the classic version of the fairy tale Rapunzel, the theft of food (Rapunzel, which is a type of lettuce) sets into motion the whole plot of the fairy tale.

Food in fiction can be a fun experience. For example, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and other Roald Dahl stories, the author presents us with many funny foods, like the disgusting Snozcumbers, the Gobstoppers, Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight, Three Course Dinner Chewing Gum,

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FOOD

In fairy tales, food can also be much more sinister - a matter of life and death. In Little Red Riding Hood or the Three Piglets, the plot is about the ‘big bad wolf’ trying to capture and eat the main characters.

Sometimes he does this in cunning ways, other times with bare violence. In other fairy tales like Hansel and Gretel, the witch takes the role of the antagonist as she attracts children with food (the gingerbread house), and then captures them and wants to cook them as food for herself.

FOOD

In some fairy tales, food itself is even the main character. Examples of this would be the Runaway Pancake or the Gingerbread Man. These stories focus on the food running away, only to get eaten be someone else (the pig or the fox).

Whether food is a fun element of the fictional world, a factor driving the plot, a matter of life and death or even the main character, food is a great ingredient to concoct stories as we all know well the pleasures and bare necessity of eating, and therefore can relate to it instantly.

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Gastronomy and Culinary Arts: An Epiphany of Flavours, A Gastronomic Symphony Written by Crystal Kim Illustrated by Alia Barry Once upon a time, in the quaint town of Pastiche, gastronomy and culinary arts reigned supreme. The streets were always filled with the intoxicating aroma of delectable dishes, and every corner boasted a charming café, a lavish restaurant or grandiose bakery. People from all over the world flocked to Pastiche to indulge their palates in a culinary experience like no other.

At the heart of this culinary haven stood Chef Pierre, a visionary in the world of gastronomy. With his tall stature, commanding presence, and a twinkle in his eyes, he had an uncanny ability to transform simple ingredients into culinary masterpieces. Every dish that graced his kitchen was a work of art, carefully crafted to tantalise the taste buds and stir the soul, a splendour of every food dreamt to be tasted.

His culinary prowess was not limited to a single cuisine. Chef Pierre could effortlessly whip up a classic French soufflé, a perfectly seasoned Thai curry or an exquisite plate of sushi. He believed that culinary arts were a universal language, meant to be shared and celebrated by all.

One winter evening, Chef Pierre woke up with a vision, an epiphany.

He had dreamt of a dish that would encapsulate his entire philosophy a dish that would be a spectacle for the eyes, a dance for the taste buds, and a journey through time.

The next morning, Pierre exclaimed, “I feel like I’ve found out what the town truly needs!

A new culinary experience!”

He jumped out of his bed and ran excitedly to his diner to experiment on his dish-epiphany. He stayed there, day and night, trying to perfect the dish; and soon, it happened. Pierre’s tired eyes quickly opened wide and exhilarated, he yelled, “Yes, YES! I’ve finally completed my dish! It looks perfect! I think I will call it… “the Gastronomic Symphony!”

Chef Pierre’s passion for his craft was palpable. He believed that food had the power to transcend boundaries and create unforgettable memories. His philosophy revolved around embracing tradition while infusing it with his own creative flair. Every dish he created had a story – a representation of his journey through different cultures, flavours, and techniques.

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UNIQUE U

But Chef Pierre’s journey didn’t end there. Inspired by the success of the Gastronomic Symphony, he opened a culinary institute in Pastiche, dedicated to nurturing young talents and spreading his philosophy of embracing tradition with a visionary twist. The institute became a melting pot of cultures, where aspiring chefs honed their skills under Chef Pierre’s watchful eye.

The Gastronomic Symphony was a meticulously assembled composition of flavors, textures, and aromas. Its foundation was a delicate bed of creamy, saffroninfused spaghetti, painstakingly cooked to creamy perfection. On top of this culinary canvas, Chef Pierre artfully arranged a medley of poached lobster, seared foie gras, and truffled mushrooms. Each ingredient was chosen not only for its individual brilliance, but also for the harmony it created when combined.

To add a touch of whimsy, Chef Pierre adorned his creation with edible flowers and a drizzle of gold leaf. As the dish was brought out to the diners, the room fell silent in awe of its beauty. The first bite was met with gasps of delight, as the flavors exploded on the tongue, leaving a lingering euphoria that danced between sweet, savory, and umami. A dance for the tastebuds, that was for sure.

News of the Gastronomic Symphony spread like wildfire, and food enthusiasts from all corners of the world flocked to Pastiche to taste this unrivaled masterpiece.

The dish became a symbol of Chef Pierre’s visionary creativity, as well as his unwavering dedication to his craft.

FOOD

The town of Pastiche bloomed into a culinary utopia, attracting not only tourists but also renowned chefs from around the world. The once sleepy town was now bustling with food festivals, masterclasses, and culinary competitions. Pastiche became a beacon for all those who sought to explore the endless possibilities of gastronomy and culinary arts.

As Chef Pierre grew older, he reflected on his incredible journey to his lovely great grandchildren. He realised that his passion for food not only shaped his own destiny, but had touched the lives of countless others who set foot into Pastiche. His visionary creativity had become a testament to the power of culinary arts - a medium through which dreams were realised, memories were created, and cultures were united.

But Chef Pierre’s journey didn’t end there. Inspired by the success of the Gastronomic Symphony, he opened a culinary institute in Pastiche, dedicated to nurturing young talents and spreading his philosophy of embracing tradition with a visionary twist. The institute became a melting pot of cultures, where aspiring chefs honed their skills under Chef Pierre’s watchful eye.

The town of Pastiche bloomed into a culinary utopia, attracting not only tourists but also renowned chefs from around the world. The once sleepy town was now bustling with food festivals, masterclasses, and culinary competitions. Pastiche became a beacon for all those who sought to explore the endless possibilities of gastronomy and culinary arts.

As Chef Pierre grew older, he reflected on his incredible journey to his lovely great grandchildren. He realised that his passion for food not only shaped his own destiny, but had touched the lives of countless others who set foot into Pastiche. His visionary creativity had become a testament to the power of culinary arts - a medium through which dreams were realised, memories were created, and cultures were united.

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Items required: Pasta Water A pot Salt A jar of pasta sauce Add-Ins: Mushrooms Rosemary Basil

And so, Chef Pierre’s story lives on, embedded in the town of Pastiche and in the hearts of those who dare to dream beyond the confines of the kitchen. The world continues to be inspired by his visionary approach to gastronomy and his fantastic gastronomic dish to forever honour his legacy as the maestro of culinary arts and flavour.

If you didn’t notice, my favourite food is Spaghetti (specifically Alfredo)! So here is my recipe for spaghetti:

Spaghetti prep Step 1.1 Get a pot and fill it with water.

Once the water comes to a boil, do not close the pot and pour in your chosen pasta and add a sprinkle of salt. Depending on how many people are eating, it can range from a quarter of a bag to the whole bag of pasta.

Step 1.2 Once the pasta is ready, strain out the water and take out a jar of your chosen pasta sauce.

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Sauce Step 2.1 Add the jar of pasta sauce into your pot (the quantity depends on the amount of pasta) and add some water, depending on if you want your sauce to be thin or thick; for a thin consistency, add a little bit of water.

Step 2.2 Once your sauce is ready, mix it with the pasta, which will give you pasta mixed with sauce.

Step 2.3 (optional) This is an optional step, but it does make the presentation of the food look a bit better. First mix in rosemary, then add in the mushrooms and mix them.

Step 2.4 To serve, put the pasta onto a plate, and add a basil leaf (optional) on top.

FOOD

Sheila’s Champorado Claire Enriquez

This is a Filipino Recipe of Champorado. My mom usually prepares it for me for breakfast!

Extra details: Serves 2 people Usually eaten for breakfast Ingredients 3 cups of water 1 cup of cooked, steamed rice 1 piece of Gula Malaka (coconut sugar).

An alternative: ¼ cup brown sugar ½ cup rolled oats 1/8 cocoa powder (depends on how chocolatey you want your porridge)

RECIPES

Method: 1.Pour water into a pot and set to low heat. Add in your Gula Malaka for the sweetness and rice because it’s Filipino.

Wait until water boils and rice has a congee or porridge consistency. Ensure that the pot is left uncovered as it might overflow! Stir from time to time.

2.Once porridge-like, add oats for extra nutrition. Oats doesn’t taste like anything, so add your cocoa powder; chocolate solves everything!

3.Stop cooking when you achieve your desired thickness. (We usually cook it for about 5 minutes.)

4. Stir while pouring into bowl or else it will be dry. 5.Top off with optional toppings! Drizzle some condensed milk and thank me later. Feel free to add some nuts as garnish for extra crunch.

And if you want to be healthy, chia seeds are cool too (add in with oats); hide anything you can in your Champorado as you’re likely not to taste anything but chocolate, so why not be healthy?

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Potato Pave Recipe found by Bo Burnham Illustrated by Bo Burnham

Preparation time: 30 mins Cooking time: 1 hour 55 mins makes 6 potato paves

INGREDIENTS 1.4kg Red Delight potatoes, peeled 3 fresh rosemary sprigs, leaves picked 250ml (1 cup) thick cream 35g butter, finely chopped

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INSTRUCTIONS 1. Preheat oven to 180C. Line the base sides of a loaf pan with baking paper, allowing the sides to overhang.

2. Use a sharp knife to thinly slice the potatoes. Finely chop the rosemary leaves. Place 2 layers of potato in the prepared tin. Top with a little cream, butter and rosemary. Season with salt.

Continue layering with remaining potato, cream, butter and rosemary, finishing with potato.

3. Fold over the baking paper and cover with foil. Bake for 1 hour or until the potato is tender. Uncover and cook for a further 30 minutes or until golden. Set aside to cool. Fold over the baking paper. Place a heavy object (such as 2 or 3 cans) on top to compress. Place in the fridge overnight to set.

RECIPES

4. Preheat oven to 200C. Line a baking tray with baking paper. Turn the potato stack onto a chopping board. Trim the edges and cut into 6 even slices. Place the potato slices, cut-side up, on the prepared tray. Bake for 10 minutes or until light golden. Turn and cook for a further 10-15 minutes or until golden.

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Y O J N E

Bake-Off Club Every other Tuesday

French Macaroons

2-3 PM (Open to all pupils)

Club run by Mrs Murray Illustrated by Bo Burnham

Preparation time: 1 Hour Cooking time: 13 mins Makes 20 Macarons

INGREDIENTS For the macarons 100g Egg whites (around 3–4 large eggs) 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar 1/2 teaspoon of your chosen flavour extract 80g caster sugar 1–2 drops of your chosen gel food colouring 125g almond flour 125g icing sugar For the filling - Vanilla Buttercream frosting 230g Unsalted butter (softened to room temperature) 480g icing sugar 60ml heavy cream (room temperature) 2 teaspoons Vanilla extract (or chosen flavouring) Salt, to taste.

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RECIPES

Unable to make it?

You can still use the recipe and upload your finished treats in the Bake-off channel.

INSTRUCTIONS 1. For the macarons, wipe down a large glass or metal mixing bowl with lemon juice or vinegar. Add the egg whites. Cover and refrigerate for 24 hours. Then bring to room temperature.

2. Line 3 large baking sheets with silicone baking mats or parchment paper. Set aside.

3. Add the cream of tartar and your chosen flavouring extract to egg whites.

Using a mixer beat together on medium speed until very soft peaks form. This takes a few minutes. Once have soft peaks stop beating.

4. Add about 1/3 of the icing sugar. Beat on medium-high speed for 5 seconds, then add another 1/3 of the sugar. Beat for 5 seconds, then add the remaining sugar. Beat on medium-high speed until stiff glossy peaks form. (This means the whites have stiff, smooth, and sharp points in the bowl or on the lifted whisk attachment/beaters. Stiff peaks do not droop down. You can turn the bowl upside down and the egg whites will not move or spill out.) Using a rubber spatula, slowly and gently fold your chosen food colouring into the egg whites.

5. Sift the almond flour and caster sugar together in a large glass or metal mixing bowl. Use a spoon to help work any larger pieces through the sieve.

6. Slowly fold the beaten egg whites into the almond flour mixture a 1/3 at a time, making sure it is fully combined before adding more.

7. After you add all of the egg whites, pay very close attention to the consistency of your macaron batter.

Continue folding the batter until it thins out into the consistency of honey. You will know you have the right consistency if you drop some batter into the bowl and it disappears within 10 seconds.

8. Spoon the macaron batter into a piping bag fitted with a medium round piping tip.

RECIPES

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9. Holding the piping bag at a 90-degree angle over the baking sheet, pipe batter in 1.5 – 2 inch rounds about 1-2 inches apart on prepared baking sheets. The piped macaron batter flattens out, so make little mounds. Bang the pan a couple times on the counter to pop any air bubbles, then use a toothpick to pop any remaining air bubbles.

10. Let the piped macarons sit out until they are dry and no longer tacky on top, usually 30-60 minutes. This time allows the top to firm up and form a skin, which helps the macarons rise UP and form their trademark ruffly “feet.” Do not let them sit out for longer than they need to because they could begin to deflate.

11. Preheat the oven to 325°F (163°C).

15. Eat right away or share with friends.

This recipe will keep refrigerated for 5 days.

16. For the filling, Eat right away or share with friends. This recipe will keep refrigerated for 5 days.

17. Add 4 and ½ cups of icing sugar, the heavy cream and your chosen flavouring. Beat on low speed for 30 seconds, then increase to medium-high speed and beat for a further 2 minutes.

18. Taste. Add a pinch of salt if too sweet.

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Y O J N E

12. Bake for 13 minutes. Bake until the macarons don’t move around when touched.

13. Cool on the baking sheet for 15 minutes, then transfer to a cooling rack to continue cooling. The macaron shells may stick to the parchment paper/baking sheet if you try to remove them too early. If this is happening, let them cool on the baking sheet a little longer before removing.

14. After cooling, the shells are ready to fill and sandwich together. You can spread filling with a knife or pipe it using the same round tip you used for the macaron batter.

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RECIPES

Student Council Sergej Metodijevic

The Student Council, or StuCo for short, was very nearly a filing system where pupils would submit their complaints and questions. By an extraordinary stroke of luck, however, and the passion and enthusiasm of a selected few, we’ve managed to lay the foundations of an independent organisation run by students, for students. Although it took much drafting, the StuCo has expanded far beyond the original master plan and one can’t wait to see where it will go next.

As implied by the name, the Council is meant to represent the students; and to be efficient, it made sense to

CHS UPDATES

individually target the three main elements that students care most about. These are the wide array of EC clubs, the school’s well-known charitable donations, and socialising with friends and classmates. Under the extraordinary leadership of Committee Heads Indi, Teia, and Federica, these concepts have blossomed into the Club Committee, the Charity Committee, and the Wellbeing Committee respectively - each with its distinct set of goals and responsibilities. If you’re interested in any of them, feel free to drop their Committee

Heads a message or pop into their meetings - they’ll be more than happy to respond to any queries you may have.

Meanwhile, my role as Chairperson (the person who runs the StuCo) is merely ensuring the system is chugging away in the background with minimal interruption, whilst checking up on the Committee Heads’ progress. Ultimately, the Chairperson’s objective is not just to keep the StuCo functioning, but to orient it towards the future for the benefit of upcoming students which, with your help and support, we’ll be able to achieve.

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Interview with

Nikolas KoulourisGilbert

Nikolas was born in Scotland, but now lives Greece. He is 14 years old and his IGCSE subjects are English Language, English Literature and Math.

When did you start fencing?

I started fencing in 2020.

What made you interested in fencing?

I chose fencing because it is a sport which combines both a physical and mental workout, requiring strategic thought.

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EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Did you have to make any sacrifices to be able to pursue your sport?

I had to choose between swimming and fencing, so I gave up swimming in order to give my full concentration towards fencing.

What was your latest event and how did it go?

The last event I participated in was This is my second academic year at the National Fencing Competition in CHS. Loannina, Greece for ages 13-17.

Do you pursue other hobbies or sports as well?

How much time do you spend I’m a member of the Greek training per week or per day? Conservatory. I play the snare I train three times a week for approximately two hours at a time.

For how long have you been at CHS?

drum, timpani, tuned percussion and the piano.

Do you view being part of an online school as an advantage to be able to pursue your sport?

It is definitely an advantage, because it gives me the opportunity to attend classes, even in the case that I have to travel in order to attend various competitions.

Therefore, it provides me with the flexibility of participating in competitions without having to fall behind with my homework.

What are your goals for your future?

My dream is to become a timpanist, more specifically part of the Metropolitan Opera in New York.

Illustrated by Natasha Tatham

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

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Tasty Photos Xenia Plarre

A recent study has proven that people who take pictures of their food will find that their food tastes much better! This might be because you force your hangry stomach to wait two more minutes before you can dig in and savour your meal. Whether you take pictures of food to share online with friends or to make it taste better, here are three tips to elevate your food photography using just your phone!

it look artificial and flat. Rather ask to borrow a friend’s phone and then turn on the flash/torch on their phone. This way you can move around your friend’s phone as a light source and create intriguing shadows and highlights. You can also turn the plate itself to adjust where the shadows fall and from which angle you capture your food, which leads me to my next tip.

Lighting Lighting is a crucial element to create the right atmosphere. This is a factor you might not always be in control of, but try to take into consideration available light source options; pendant lights, candlelight, LEDs or natural light from a window are a few examples. A light source you do not want to make use of is your phone’s flash. This will overexpose your picture and make

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TIPS

Framing There are two angles in particular that are your friend in food photography – above and level.

Taking a picture parallel to the plate from above is a classic viewpoint to go with. This fully captures and showcases all the elements that encompass the dish while also incorporating the environment. The angle from above can help to tell a story, especially if the location is important to the food, for example if you are travelling and are at a unique restaurant.

Personally, I find that taking a picture at eye-level to be more immersive and abstract; you can really zoom in and get up close to the food to focus on a particular element or ingredient of the dish – so close you can almost taste it!

Flipping the phone upside down so

that your phone’s lens is level with the plate is a neat trick I like to use.

This way it feels like you are engrossed by the dish. Using portrait mode on your phone can also help to enhance the part of the dish you would like to focus on; the blurred background frames the food and makes your meal standout from the surrounding.

Presenting This is the cherry on top!

Sometimes the plating of the food is not up to you, but if it is a homecooked meal, embellish the dish. What I mean by this is either sprinkling a bit of garnish on top or composing a few of the uncooked ingredients next to the main dish.

This adds a bit of texture and visual intrigue.

Although capturing the exact experience of enjoying a hearty meal is difficult, bringing a human element into the picture can help to recreate the familial fuzzy feeling the thought of food conveys. You don’t have to include an entire person in your photograph, but perhaps a hand holding a spoon about to dig into a mouth-watering dessert or pouring a cup of steaming coffee.

It will take practice, but with time you can tweak and experiment with these tips to match your own style and how you would like to capture your food.

Happy photographing and bon appetit!

Lighting pendant lights (i.e. from above) Framing zoomed in so the brownie is the focal point Presenting cherries for garnish & pop of colour

TIPS

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Do you want to have fun and make new friends?

Pandora French

Bookcase Every Thursday at 12.30 there is a prep school social club. At Social Club, run by Mrs Graham, you play games together and get to talk to students across all the prep school years. The club has been running for around two years and is very popular, sometimes up to 20 students join! There are only two rules; be kind and enjoy yourselves!

‘Mrs Graham is the best and it is super fun to play games with other students’ You can play lots of games at Social Club, although we mainly play Scribble and Roblox; other suggestions are always welcome.

The only criteria is, that the games have to be age appropriate and allow private rooms so that only CHS students can join. That way, Social Club remains safe for everyone.

Scribble is always really popular; the drawings can be really good or sometimes really bad; but that doesn’t matter – it just means everyone has a laugh. I am especially terrible at drawing.

‘Social club is perfect the way it is’ One of the reasons Mrs Graham says that she likes to run Social Club is that we can learn about each other’s backgrounds, cultures, hobbies and families. She’s right – it’s really interesting to hear where in the world other students are and the things they like doing.

Out of my research and from my own experience at Social Club; the main thing that everyone loves, is getting to ‘meet’ and chat with students in other years and hanging out together, having fun!

‘I like getting to play with my friends’ Everyone is welcome – so hopefully I’ll see you there soon!

Orange

‘My favourite thing is talking to everyone’

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PREP SCHOOL

Meet Mrs Barnes Illustrated by Bo Burnham

What is your pet peeve?

Unsure.

What is an expression/saying you probably use too often?

Jolly good!

If you could be a bird for a day, what bird would you be?

I would be a parrot because they are so colourful and intelligent.

Tea, coffee or ……………….?

Tea.

Where were you born and where do you live now?

Born in London, live in Cheshire.

Where is your favourite place and why?

Favourite place is a warm, sunny beach.

What was your first job?

My first job was as an activity instructor for a kids' holiday camp.

Why did you become a teacher?

I became a teacher because I care about others and wanted to do a job that makes a positive difference.

What subject(s) do you teach?

I teach Prep.

PREP SCHOOL

What is your favourite subject to teach?

I love teaching Maths and creative writing.

What is your favourite book?

My favourite book is any book that you can't put down as it is so gripping!

Do you have pets and if yes, what are their names?

We have two rabbits called Betty and Basil.

What is your hobby/hidden talent?

I love skiing a lot, but don't get to go very much.

What is one thing that nobody at CHS knows about you?

I used to live in Cambodia in Phnom Penh, the capital city.

Prep 5G’s Calendars m Ada

Across art, PSHE and topic, Prep 5G has been looking at celebrations, countries, continents and cultures. We were looking at Chinese New Year (Luna Calendar / Spring Festival).

This is what they produced in art.

Well done Prep 5G! Miss Greaves

Jack

Ve er

Veer, Adam and Jack wanted to depict the Year of the Dragon.

d Yassir wan ted an an h p Ste ct the year of the ho to rse i . dep

Yas sir

Zhao wanted to represent the whole 12 year cycle.

MJ ma de

a n. er nt la

h Step an

My Favourite Food Written by Filip Malmberg Illustrated by Alia Barry

Sushi is the food of the gods.

When you bite sushi, it makes a soft squish sound.

I wish I would have infinite fish, I would love to have sushi every day!

Oh sushi, oh sushi, whenever I can, I pick you.

Usually, I get a soft salmon sushi roll.

Sushi dances in my mouth, It’s like an explosion of flavour that I wish would last forever.

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PREP SCHOOL

Meet Mr Fordham Illustrated by Bo Burnham

What was your first job?

Tea, coffee or ……………….?

I try not to drink caffeine much, therefore it might be decaf Tetley tea or decaf coffee (excellent because it doesn’t make me twitch at around four o’clock every day). I love the taste of bergamot in Earl Grey teas. A Greek café around the corner makes an excellent latte and has a variety of pastries and cakes that cry out to me every time I visit!

Where were you born and where do you live now?

I was born in Ipswich in Suffolk and currently live in Cambridge. I’ve been here since moving from London in 2018 and have loved the flexibility that working at an online school brings: the world is your oyster, as long as that oyster has a stable wifi connection! I’d love to teach from some exotic, faraway location but might only get as far as my local Waterstones, a regular haunt.

GET TO KNOW

Where is your favourite place and why?

Great question: I am part of a spiritual order of Celtic tradition (The Order of Bards Ovates and Druids) and our Cambridge group meet every six weeks on a public common to celebrate the ancient neolithic festivals. Each time we get together, we share the space with various wonderful animals and birds: baby kestrels hidden in the long-grass; soaring kites; Cambridge’s famous, friendly, freeroaming cows (a cross between Norfolk red beef and Suffolk Dun dairy cattle); and the enigmatic herons (or ‘corr réisc’) after whom our grove is named. It’s my favourite space because of the joy we have experienced there for over five years now.

My first job was actually as a civil servant in London, working for the Cabinet Office in 2004. I was fresh out of university and knew I wanted to move to The Big City and was soon followed by friends from university (York) who felt similarly. I did despise the suits and deadlines though. I didn’t really understand much about the work I was doing: lots of corporate jargon and no inspiring projects to undertake.

Why did you become a teacher?

I changed career paths in 2010 (after a disastrous stretch at the Department for Business) and taught Business English in Rome for two years. After that, I knew I needed a job that connected with people and, well, I love literature!

No two days in teaching are the same and having bright young minds share with you their unique perspectives, imaginative drafts to read and enthusiasm for their chosen authors is unmatched in terms of work satisfaction. I also firmly believe in the power of imagination to tackle the ills of this world: if we can imagine ourselves in a better place, through exploring the multiplicities literature presents, then we can forge a brighter future for everyone. Blake was on to something.

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What subject(s) do you teach?

Do you have pets and if yes, what are their names?

What is an expression/saying you probably use too often?

If you hadn’t guessed by now, I teach English Literature and Language!

Sadly, I don’t, but would love to have a German Shepherd as I think they are quite noble, loyal companions but likely to be a bit of a handful to control if they catch a scent of something! Maybe a ferret…I blame Pullman’s character Pantalaimon for that inclination!

I have found myself saying ‘So…’ a lot during online lessons. I remember my inspiring mentor using it when I observed her during my teacher training year so maybe the learning has finally come full circle!

What is your favourite subject to teach?

I tend to prefer English Literature, as I can choose the texts for study that I feel passionate about, but some good quality non-fiction essays and articles do get my attention, if they are provocative and shake up the status quo.

What is your favourite book?

The million-dollar question! I was introduced to ‘The Count of Monte Christo’ by Alexandre Dumas by my mum when I was a teenager and devoured it over a particularly uneventful holiday in Chichester, one year. This classic adventure story has everything: revenge; complicated love triangles; intricate characterisation; madness; greed; thrilling escapades and cliff-hanger moments. Otherwise, ‘Hawksmoor’

by Peter Ackroyd (a closelyfollowing second choice), the ‘His Dark Materials’ trilogy by Philip Pullman and ‘Jane Eyre’, a firm classic. I also love early-modern poetry and plays as well, and count those as amongst my favourite ‘books’: ‘The Changeling’ by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley; ‘Paradise Lost’ by Milton… the lists could go on!

What is your pet peeve?

My ultimate pet peeve is slow walkers. I tend to stride as I have long legs and am usually late for appointments, so I would fully support a two-lane pavement system. There also might be a specially-reserved circle of Dante’s Inferno for those that stand on the left-hand side of escalators…

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If you could be a bird for a day, what bird would you be?

A bird? Maybe a phoenix…if it doesn’t have to be ‘real’! What a story to tell: tales of the Orient; cycles of death and renewal and a symbol of hope for many. Sounds like an excellent existence to trial.

GET TO KNOW

What is your hobby/hidden talent?

I’m a big fan of handwritten letters, writing poetry and origami. These three hobbies recently coalesced into my creating ‘pochibukuro’ or Japanese money wallets, which I fill with letters and poems (usually excised from secondhand books) and are sent or given to friends.

With modern tech in our hands these days, I find the loss of handcrafted letters and gifts pretty keenly. On my master’s course last year, it was fantastic to learn about historic letter-folding and sealing techniques in a pre-envelope age - a later technological innovation. I’m contemplating hiding these pochibukuro or sealed packets of texts throughout Cambridge for people to find, like a literary geocache or urban ‘message in a bottle’. I also love painting portraits using oils, drawing, cycling and visiting museums and galleries.

GET TO KNOW

What is one thing that nobody at CHS knows about you?

Hmm… that I secretly believe (or not so secretly if we’ve had a conversation in person over the last year, whilst I was finishing my MA) that Shakespeare was the ‘frontman’ or public face for a female writer of the time. Being a noblewoman, Mary Sidney Herbert, would have jeopardised her title and reputation if she were to have written for the stage. A holograph reproduction of a tantalising, seventeenth-century letter to King James I, refers to her having ‘the man Shakespeare’ at her house.

Why was he there? To act? Direct?

Pick up his latest play? Herbert hosted a literary

salon and was a closet-drama writer and sonneteer; the course of her covert encounter with a younger doctor and her tumultuous relationships with her young sons (one named William Herbert or ‘Mr. W. H.’) and niece (the first woman prose writer in England) ‘explain’ the content of Shakespeare’s sonnet cycle very neatly indeed. The poems are never quite the same once they have been read with a female narrative voice! Maybe there’s a lesson here to be learnt about restrictive perspectives and receiving narrative voices at ‘face value’?

Summer Term 2024 | The Cambridge Collective | 29

Meet Miss Petito Illustrated by Bo Burnham

Here, the authentic Neapolitan espresso was born, and we have a special ritual for preparing it, “come si faceva a casa della nonna” (like it was done at grandma's house): 1. We begin by using a Caffettiera Napoletana, also known as a moka pot.

2. The selected blend consists of a higher percentage of Robusta beans, complemented by a smaller quantity of Arabica. This combination results in a stronger and more intense coffee. Additionally, the beans are roasted for longer periods,

Tea, coffee or ……………….?

Coffee!! Every day, my mornings kick off with a bold and brisk espresso. Being Italian and growing up in the birthplace of coffee (Naples), known as 'la Patria del caffè,' I can't imagine starting my day any other way.

Kew to pursue my university studies. Currently, I split my time between London, specifically Chiswick, and Brussels, Belgium renowned for its delectable chocolates and mouth-watering waffles!

Where were you born and where do you live now?

I was born in Naples, a bustling city in southern Italy. When I was thirteen, my family relocated to Pompeii, situated not far from the iconic Vesuvius volcano. It's the same city where, two millennia ago, lived the characters featured in Book 1 of the Cambridge Latin Course: Cecilius, a banker, his wife Metella, and their son Quintus. At the age of eighteen, I moved to London, initially settling in Richmond before later moving to

30 | The Cambridge Collective | Summer Term 2024

allowing the essential oils to enhance the coffee's aroma.

3. The water used in Naples is typically of excellent quality, which further influences the coffee's flavour.

4. Finally, the espresso is served in a heated porcelain cup, accompanied by a small glass of water to cleanse the palate before savouring the coffee.

GET TO KNOW

Where is your favourite place and why?

While my favourite place is wherever my loved ones are, if I were to pick one, it would be Kyoto in Japan, specifically the Philosopher's Path. This picturesque route spans approximately 2km, linking the Ginkakuji Temple (the Silver Pavilion) to the Nanzenji district. Along the pathway, visitors are treated to the breathtaking sight of hundreds of cherry trees, which, during the blossoming season, paint the landscape in vibrant shades of pink. The stone path meanders beside a tranquil canal, weaving through the charming Higashiyama area, renowned for its scenic beauty. For anyone visiting Kyoto, a stroll along this enchanting path in the city of a thousand temples is an experience like no other.

What was your first job?

My first job was as a bartender; I started at 18 because scholarships weren't sufficient to meet my needs. While it may sound glamorous, the truth is, I embarked on this journey without even comprehending what a cocktail was.

The initial weeks were tumultuous, to say the least! Perhaps patrons still recall those poorly crafted drinks from Chiswick's renowned pub! During that scorching London summer, I gleaned invaluable life lessons and, incidentally, mastered the art of cocktail-making. That experience profoundly shaped me, and to this day, when I host dinners for my friends, I pride myself on serving what I like to call the 'best drink in town'. Consider yourselves all invited to savour my signature creation, the Red Sunset!

Why did you become a teacher?

Since childhood, I naturally gravitated towards the role of a teacher. Even during playful moments with my cousins, I found myself doing lessons in Geography and History for other children. As I matured, my passion for teaching persisted, guiding my educational journey. Throughout my studies, I encountered teachers who played pivotal roles in fostering my confidence and belief in my abilities, especially during challenging times.

It was during my university years that I delved deeper into pedagogy and the psychology of teaching, gaining profound insights into the immense beauty and responsibility inherent in the role of an educator.

I came to realise that teaching is not only a key profession but also one of the most beautiful careers.

Teachers bear a significant responsibility in shaping the future of our world, for our students represent the bright and promising future that lies ahead.

What subject(s) do you teach?

I teach Latin, Classical Greek, and Classical Studies.

What is your favourite subject to teach?

I absolutely adore teaching Classics (it’s practically in my blood), but I have a special passion for teaching Latin. While many may perceive it as an ancient and dull language, the truth is quite the opposite – it's incredibly engaging, and I find immense joy in every class I teach.

GET TO KNOW

Summer Term 2024 | The Cambridge Collective | 31

This photo captures me during one of my "Geography and History lessons" at the tender age of six, when I fancied myself a teacher.

What is your favourite book?

Selecting just one favourite book is a daunting task for a devoted bibliophile like me, especially considering my overflowing library.

Today was no exception – I visited my favourite bookshop and managed to restrain myself to only three purchases, which is quite a feat considering my usual penchant for acquiring five or six books in one go, both new and used. However, if pressed to choose, one of my alltime favourites is 'A Room of One's Own' by Virginia Woolf. I've delved into its pages so many times, starting from the age of sixteen.

Do you have pets and if yes, what are their names?

Not now, even though I love all animals very much, and I grew up with cats and dogs since I was a child.

What is your pet peeve?

One of my biggest pet peeves is witnessing people disregard the environment and nature; it's something I find incredibly frustrating.

What is an expression/saying you probably use too often?

I tend to go overboard with one Italian expression in particular: 'mamma mia'. I find myself using it frequently, whether I'm speaking English or Dutch, my third language.

If you could be a bird for a day, what bird would you be?

What is your hobby/hidden talent?

I have a deep admiration for the Athene Noctua, the owl, revered as the favourite animal of the goddess Athena and cherished by my dear friends from Ancient Greece.

Observing its distinctive features – the piercing eyes and prominent beak – writers and philosophers of the classical age perceived in it the resemblance to the Greek letter φ (phi), symbolising philosophical disciplines. The belief that owls were associated with the pursuit of knowledge and research was widespread. In Greek mythology, they were revered as symbols of wisdom, knowledge and intelligence. They were thought to possess the ability to illuminate darkness with their keen gaze, shedding light on solutions to problems.

Are you referring to me and my talent? Well, I'm not entirely certain if I possess one, but perhaps when I'm at the piano, composing melodies, it feels like something special. Is that considered a talent?

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What is one thing that nobody at CHS knows about you?

I absolutely adore travelling. Who doesn't, right? But what sets my travels apart is my preferred mode of traveling: my Scrambler 900 motorcycle.

GET TO KNOW

Weird Words Written by Teia Procopie Illustrated by Bo Burnham

1. Pålegg In Norwegian, “pålegg” is a non-specific descriptor for anything that might go on a sandwich, from ham and cheese to sardines, pickles or even Nutella or jelly.

2. Sobremesa In Spanish, there is a word for the time spent at the table continuing a conversation even though the meal is finished; it is when you are so full that you do not want to move or just treasure the company and conversation. That word is “sobremesa”, which means “over the table.

3. Kummerspeck If you gain weight due to emotional overeating, it’s called “Kummerspeck” in German. It literally means “grief bacon’”. Picture the crying people in movies eating ice cream out of the original container – that is when you gain “Kummerspeck.

4. Kuidaore In Japanese, there’s a word that means eating yourself into bankruptcy, “kuidaore”.

5. Shemomedjamo There is a Georgian word, “shemomedjamo”, which means you keep eating, even though you’re full, because the food is so delicious. The word literally means “I accidentally ate the whole thing”

6. Pelinti You know that thing you do when you bite into hot food and your tongue does a little dance because it’s just too hot? Ghana has a word for this. “Pelinti” literally means “to move hot food around in your mouth”.

7. Tretår If you are a coffee lover, you might like to know that there is an actual word in Swedish for a second refill or “threefill” of coffee “tretår”.

8. Siwon In Korean, “siwon” is a word usually meaning cool or cold, but when used in the context of dining, it means the taste which achieves the ideal umami such that the food feels cool.

8. Siwon If you wondered what the word “umami” meant, this is a word in Japanese meaning a category of taste in food (besides sweet, sour, salt and bitter); savoriness.

10. Scrumping An English word that can’t exactly be translated is “scrumping”, which refers to the action of stealing fruit (particularly apples) from trees.

Art & Comic Club Published as received

Hi, my name is Brandon Goodrum; I am in Prep 4B and in Pegasus House. I am proud to my present my comic called…

Camila Po. 12 Years old. The story starts off with a happy, innocent tone, but soon chaos unravels...

Assembly's going on normally, like every other Monday; Mr Boylan was presenting the announcements.

Suddenly, a mischievous dog, that goes by the name of Minnie, starts barking like mad. The barking then becomes infectious and spreads onto Mr Boylan! But this wasn't done on accident, Minnie intended this to happen! She was going to get vengeance for her and her fellow dog mates. Will the Assembly survive the Barkapocalypse? Or will they catch the virus and go absolutely bonkers?

Art & Co mic Club Every Mo nday 15:15 (All pupil s)

Mrs Hope

The CHS Alumni:

Jude Josephine Abou Mechrek

Delve into the vibrant community of CHS where every student is embraced with open arms and encouraged to shine.

When and for which Levels did you study at CHS? I attended CHS from 2022-2023 for Level 6.

What subjects did you take?

Whilst studying at CHS, I took Alevel Business Studies and Literature in English, in addition to having personal tutors for Biology, Chemistry and Mathematics.

Psychology was a subject that I selfstudied and sat for the CAIE exams.

Where and what are you studying now?

I am currently a Year 1 student in the Doctor of Medicine programme at the University of Nicosia in Cyprus.

What is a piece of advice you would give your younger, CHS-self?

Upon self-reflection, these are the pointers that I would share with my younger CHS self: strive to be more innovative whilst adopting a mindset such as to willingly take the time needed to understand and learn effectively by being less

36 | The Cambridge Collective | Summer Term 2024

rushed or anxious about progress, instead focusing on steady sustained efforts over time.

How did CHS help you along your journey?

My journey with CHS has been transformational by empowering me to embrace my capabilities with newfound confidence. Through its supportive environment and opportunities for growth, I’ve cultivated a deep sense of selfassurance in my abilities. CHS has provided me with the platform to explore and develop my strengths allowing me to fully accept and

THE CHS ALUMNI

embrace my true self. Moreover, the emphasis on leadership within CHS has honed my communication skills, decision-making and collaboration as I have navigated various challenges and responsibilities; I’ve learnt to lead with authenticity and integrity, inspiring others to do the same.

Anything else you would like to share?

CHS fosters a welcoming and close knit community like no other. Here students are embraced for who they are, urged to explore their interests and supported in their endeavours without fear of judgement. Within this nurturing environment, pupils are

empowered to challenge themselves, whether it’s through taking on big projects or pursuing smaller personal goals. Every step forward is celebrated and every effort is recognised. In this inclusive space students thrive not only academically but also personally as they learn the value of perseverance, collaboration and self-discovery.

trated by N Illus ata sh

a m tha Ta

THE CHS ALUMNI

Summer Term 2024 | The Cambridge Collective | 37

MUG

Written by Samuel Brown Illustrated by Natasha Tatham

The mug is a warming oven in my icy hands.

A sip, a slurp … mmmh.

I lift up the steamy mug And give it a welcoming hug.

Melting my heart, the mug gives me a kiss Spilling down my mouth Some lovely tea.

The mug sits with me, Heating my palms, Heating my heart, Heating the room.

Mix in more mouthwatering milk.

The mug smiles at me, inviting me to drink.

Oh mug, you’re like a tasty treasure to me.

Excerpt from

Terence, This is Stupid Stuff Curated by Winwin Shinpat Illustrated by Alia Barry

A r s e n ic

There was a king that reigned in the East: There, when kings will sit to feast, They get their fill before they think, With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.

He gathered all the springs to birth, From the many-venomed earth; First a little, thence to more, He sampled all her killing store; And easy, smiling, seasoned sound, Sat the king when healths went round.

They put arsenic in his meat, And stared aghast to watch him eat; They poured strychnine in his cup, And shook to see him drink it up: They shook, they stared as white’s their shirt: Them it was their poison hurt.

I tell the tale that I heard told.

Mithridates, he died old.

Written by - WA.E. Housman

POEMS

Summer Term 2024 | The Cambridge Collective | 39

A Nefarious Lunchbox and Taco-Magic Written by Alia Barry, Bo Burnham, Natasha Tatham, Pandora French, Punpun Srisuwan, Winwin Shinpat Illustrated by Teddy Tatham, Bo Burnham This short story was written as part of an activity in a CC club meeting. Although a few of the CC members were absent due to the exam season (wishing them the best of luck!), members from Prep 6 to Level 5 participated in this Story Circle: The starting sentence was given. From there, each member contributed a sentence. We got so captivated by the absurdity of our plot that we repeated this cycle twice.

This piece is a great display of what The Cambridge Collective is all about - collaboration! It was written, illustrated and the layout designed collectively.

Xenia Plarre An ominous, ruby-red lunchbox appeared on the crooked bench in the school yard every Tuesday at noon. Each day a different taco-themed item was in the lunchbox. No one ever dared to go near it, except this lad named John. John was typically known as a daredevil, a prankster, a guy who liked to goof off, dancing with danger.

One Tuesday, when the band stopped playing, the lunchbox and John disappeared. However, somebody then noticed John had disappeared and the lunchbox was replaced by a food truck, branded ‘Taco Tuesdays’.

Upon seeing the food-truck, a girl named Leneya asked, “Oh, where did John go and why is there a taco truck?”

40 | The Cambridge Collective | Summer Term 2024

This Leneya gal got real freaked out about it, and therefore started dancing. Suddenly, John appeared from the bushes and started dancing too. John danced around a cliff’s edge, almost tripping off multiple times to Leneya’s concern – and, to her annoyance, John just kept smiling.

When they were about to fall off the cliff, they apparated to Hogwarts and learned magic. They made some friends at school and became professionals in magic. Leneya and John then used their dark-magicwielding powers to obliviate the school where the lunchbox was; they did this with Taco-Magic!

‘Arry Po’ah arrived and exclaimed, “Hey, I shall not let you obliviate He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named!”

John and Leneya reply, “Well, we have Taco-Magic and you do not, mwuahahahaouihaaiouhahouiaha!”

Then, puzzled, John asked, “Hold on a minute, who’s YOUR ‘He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’?”

‘Arry Po’ah confessed (or did he?), “Well, I’m not supposed to say, buuuut Voldemort. Who’s yours?”

John answered, “OUR ‘He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’ is the nefarious lunchbox in the Chamber of Secrets so, leave us be man!”

“Girrrrrl, what do you mean your ‘He-Who-Shall-NotBe-Named’ is a lunchbox…”, ‘Arry Po’ah stalled, staring confused at John, who stared back, blank face. Using this opportunity, Leneya and John hurried back into the Chamber of Secrets to destroy He-Who-Shall-NotBe-Named. Then they bought drums and a guitar to learn how to start a band to dance along to again.

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‘Arry Po’ah however returned and said, “How dare you kill He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? The lunchbox contained the heirlooms of the Taconian Nation!”

John duelled with ‘Arry Po’ah.

During the fierce battle, Voldemort turned into tacoshaped glitter. Lured by the Taco-Magic duel, a universe named ‘Tacos-Taste-Amazing’ crashed into John and Leneya’s galaxy; it started raining chili-dogflavoured and cola-flavoured AND lemonade-flavoured tacos! To accompany the Taco Rain, John conjured up a refreshing taco-flavoured drink.

Tacos that littered the ground suddenly started to mutate into Godzilla-sized Taco Zombies and they screamed their war cry in the Taconian language, “Tacos are amazing and we’re gonna destroy your planet, because your planet claimed tacos as Mexican food! TACOS TASTE AMAZING!” One of the Taco Zombies turned to John and Leneya and declared, “Now, our Taco-King is standing right next to you.”

Perplexed, Leneya said, “Huh, but ‘Arry Po’ah is next to us?”

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Suddenly, ‘Arry Po’ah turned into a double-Godzillasized Taco Zombie with angelic chili-dog wings and the breath of rhino snot. He then grabbed a Tic Tac from his pocket, put it into his mouth and screamed maniacally. His scream summoned Caroog the carrot, who was the school secretary and used to be the guardian of the ruby-red lunchbox which had only appeared at noon on Taco Tuesdays…

The End of David Jarcin Written by Leo Brown Illustrated by Teddy Tatham

David Jarcin was his name and he had been born a daredevil. That was what his mother had always told him when he had knocked over a chair after darting down the stairs or fallen off a tree when he had climbed high into the branches.

Climbing, climbing, climbing. That was all David could think of for the moment as he felt the rough rock for a small ledge, a crack. His torn fingers found a small

overhang. He grasped it with one hand, then with the other. Slowly but surely, he pulled himself up. He was just about to pull up one of his legs when his grasp went and he plummeted down, clutching the ledge with but his index finger. That was the moment he knew. He was a daredevil and he had always been one.

It was already dark when the anxious team could pull David Jarcin over the cliff face and onto hard ground.

As the team waited for the helicopter, they quizzed David about how difficult it had been, and how it felt to be the first to climb up the Kellview Cliffs in fifty-two years. He replied by asking them if they had ever climbed five hundred metres on a cliff face, and when the unanimous response was negative, he told them, “Well, be quiet then!”

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Over the next few weeks, the news was full of stories of the great achievement that David had managed. Mr Jarcin enjoyed every bit of his fame and would go to the police for every suggestion that his achievement was a swindle. After a few days, he hosted a party with many guests, though he had known none of them for long. His older relations had either not been invited or had found some excuse for not coming. At first everyone was interested and wanted to talk to David, but soon this ceased; Mr Jarcin was a proud, unpleasant man and he wanted nothing but the admiration of others.

And more admiration was soon to come for Mr. Jarcin as it was announced that there had been supernatural sightings in the west of the Amazon rainforest.

Jumping at this opportunity, Jarcin quickly agreed to scout out the location.

“Wait for us!” Gruff’s call rang through the trees into the ears of David who was battling his way through the undergrowth with his machete. David ignored the calls and kept labouring on. A few minutes later, two men came puffing round the corner. The first was a short, glaring youth; Darrin. The second was a rough, broad-shouldered man; Gruff.

“You’re lettin’ us carry all the stuff!” Gruff objected.

David kept hacking away at his branches, hardly giving Gruff a glance.

Darrin’s complaint was more successful, “Stop charging ahead or I’m turning back. You’re supposed to guide us, not run away from us.”

David swung around his machete and pointed it at Darrin’s chest.

“Behave yourself!” he growled.

Gruff watched as terror spread across Darrin’s face.

He turned away, dropped his pack, and ran. That was the last David ever saw of Darrin.

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“How long has it been David?” Gruff panted. David had no answer – he felt terrible his pride had led him astray. He knew it, and yet he did not want to admit it, not to himself, not to anyone.

“We should abandon the mission. Our resources are almost out.”

“I will not abandon the quest at any price!” David roared with surprising authority in his voice.

Suddenly, he felt a burning pain in his foot. He stamped down; the snake was dead. David collapsed.

“Oh Gruff, will you forgive me?” He wheezed.

“If you ever did me any harm, it is forgiven,” Gruff replied with a timid smile shining through his saddened face. Hearing the words of comfort from the old explorer, the younger laid back his head and left all the cares and worries of admiration behind him. That was the end of David Jarcin.

The Elderwich Gardens Written by Sergej Metodijevic Illustrated by Alia Barry

Lord Caldwell was a man whose vastness spilled onto the floor around him. Though he was currently immersed in watching nature’s fiery winter tantrum, he would have been equally entertained had he bothered to keep a mirror in the living room. He had a great moustache whose ends were forever trying to stroke the sky, and a beard so thin that its hairs could’ve snapped with the least effort. This extraordinary man sat by the window, his pudgy hands curved comfortably round the arms of his favourite leather armchair.

The snow fell quietly as if wishing to be seen but not heard. It fell with solemness but pride, as a great warrior might after being mortally wounded in the battle to decide it all. Those who could remember far back enough noted that never before had the winter been as harsh as this, the wind’s bite so filled with tension and anger. But life carried on as it normally would. The merchants put on their thick overcoats and headed out on the streets, glaring at the weather as if it would harm their earnings; the children braved the icy breeze with minute groans and complaints; the richer families made immediate plans to flock to the south; and so on. Although miserable, these townspeople were a sturdy type.

On the hill which overlooked the sorry sight sat the magnificent home of Lord Caldwell. From the outside it looked abandoned, lonely, almost crying from help; but from within one could spot the symptoms of luxury and riches. Wide, broad-brimmed portraits of forgotten ancestors, padded Viennese furniture, untouched dishes of the most exotic foreign foods, together with countless glasses of the richest champagne - all of this was casually owned by this lord, so casually it seemed he tried to ignore his own fortune.

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Lord Caldwell gave a great sigh that made his nostrils shiver. He turned round to his nephew, who had too, watched the snowy countryside with sullenness.

“Well,” exclaimed he, “what a morning.” The remark drifted silently through the air, and the tension that soon arose bore visible wounds to his amour propre.

“What bothers you so, Lloyd? It seems you are miserly this morning.” The nephew could barely bite back a scything remark, and instead replied: “That is indeed so, uncle.” Lord Caldwell’s eyes drifted to a small sparrow whose squeals pierced through the morning silence. It hopped onwards, seemingly injured - both watchers looked on in silence as the bird shook its head, falling over again and again. Its ruffled chestnut feathers, strewn across the snow ground, were like blotches of ink on a blank page.

“So,” murmured the uncle, sipping the tea that had been sitting untouched during the last fifteen minutes, “shall you tell me the cause of your woes?” He stretched his great limbs and made his vastness wobble so much Lloyd thought it would burst and flood through his breeches.

“It’s Fletcher Dorman, uncle,” the nephew could not help but whisper the name with an adoring air. He repeated it as if he could not believe it himself: “It’s Fletcher Dorman.” Lord Caldwell now seemed

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especially interested in watching the sky’s revolving clouds, which, as he liked to say, were as shaggy as could be.

“Ah?” He took another sip of his beverage and nearly spat it out. Still it was boiling hot.

“And why is the butcher’s boy giving you trouble?

Does he remember that I employ his father?” Lloyd nodded quickly.

“So what is it this time, boy? Forever he seems to enjoy harassing you. I’m full to the brim with his roguish nonsense, mind. He tells the tallest tales in the neighbourhood, everyone knows that.” The young man shuffled about, and gave the floor a weary kick.

“It’s about the Gardens, uncle.” The fleshy lord sat up straight. His gaze transformed from a kindly if tired state to one of austere severity. Lloyd shivered as one does when seeing the brewing storm clouds approaching a cloudless summer day.

“What about the Gardens? Very fine, are they not?”.

“Indeed they are, uncle. But Fletcher’s been teasing me because of a recent incident,” his voice grew squeakier as he continued, “where he accused us both of hoarding the Gardens for ourselves. He said that their magic was intended for all, not just,” here the nephew grew red, “a pigheaded noble family.” Silence.

Lord Caldwell seemed to grow thoughtful, scratching his beard - then suddenly he sat up straight, his eyes fuming.

“I am the Master of the Gardens,” declared the indignant lord, “and one day you shall be too. We are to rule our property as we please. Why does this nonsense bother you? When someone possesses a little something, others will grow envious. It is in human nature.” His posture stiffened but his jaw relaxed, and he took yet another sip of his herbal tea.

His lips drew themselves into a puckered snarl. Aha, his eyes seemed to say to the world, take that, you villainous paupers!

“Because, uncle… it’s true.” Lord Caldwell spat out his tea. Both stared at the spot where it landed on the usually immaculate carpet. His uncle clenched his fist, though very slightly; Lloyd backed away. Yet though both expected something to happen, another minute passed where only the lord’s ragged breath cracked through the unearthly silence.

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When Lord Caldwell finally spoke, his voice was soft and imposing, crisp but dangerous.

“The Gardens are a pure miracle that we are lucky… no, blessed to have. I have travelled the world, my nephew; and nothing similar seems to exist. No - do not interrupt me! I know what I am talking about. Do not forget also the story of the Gardens. Our ancestors survived on a tiny patch of land, rearing crops, living as downtrodden farmers… until they came to realise that the little land they owned was magic, that is.” Lloyd ruggedly rolled his eyes.

“Uncle, I know the tale! And so the magic decreed; forever would the land be fertile, the water pure, the sun shining, the crops plentiful -” “The Elderwich Gardens a sanctuary,” finished Lord Caldwell. “Very good. Our piece of land was destined to be blessed, and eventually your great-grandmother built the hallowed home where we reside today. And now we bear fame for owning these magnificent Gardens, where we can rear the most extraordinary animals and grow the most luscious crops. Yes?” Lloyd nodded, though unhappily.

“You seem unsatisfied. Well, I suppose that we must pay the Gardens a visit to convince you of their value and need to be protected.” With a creak, Lord Caldwell rose, and from his breast pocket, took a small meagre key. One would have hardly thought this brittle chunk of copper could have offered passage to the world’s foremost wonders.

Lloyd was again reminded of the vastness of his uncle’s home, and the emptiness of it all; they met not a soul on the way, trudging mechanically through the beaming hallways and the meandering staircase.

Finally they reached the vast bronze doors, illuminated by some sort of light coming from within. With a click they opened; and the pair were flooded with incoming light.

The Gardens had forgotten winter and age long ago, and respected only childish magic and wonder.

Though the rest of the town saw nothing but a leaden sky, here you could enjoy the sun’s smiles and the rustle of a gentle summer breeze. The Gardens were open to the sky, but protected from the outside world by a striding stone wall; still nature tried to escape, as

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occasionally a small plant would, bursting through a crack in the wall with Herculean perseverance, joining the vivid sight of lush vines and leaves. From above towered striking trees, bearing the most magnificent and ripe fruits whose virginities shined with bliss and pleasure. Their eternal branches were imposing but worn, stretching far and wide to form a natural roof.

On the ground, the soil was a rich shade of chestnut; you could visit the various crops and bushes by following a sleepy stony path that curled about unexpectedly and led to all sorts of surprises. Birds chirruped cheerfully, and if you were careful and silent enough, you could occasionally see a rabbit rush through the grass, or a deer bowing down its antlers to take a drink from the expansive tear-shaped lake located in the middle of the Gardens, where the fattest fish swam with delight. It was a miracle.

The rich Garden air eased Lloyd’s lungs and drew out all his woes and misery. He felt raw, uneven, but one with the garden’s beautiful nature. He sighed happily.

“So,” smirked triumphantly Lord Caldwell, “are we convinced now that these Gardens should stay the way they are? And that the fruit of our ancestors are ours to enjoy?” Weakly, the nephew nodded, bewitched still. The lord gave a relieved sigh, and enclosed his fingers round a peach and picked it with a regal air. Munching happily, he sank into the abyss of his own thoughts. At last, this doubt had been dispersed from his nephew’s mind; all was well.

“It is not my uncle I cannot say no to, but the Gardens… Oh, Lydia, if you had seen them today! So enchanting and timeless. I wish things were different, but at the moment my uncle’s unwilling to share the Gardens as ever. Perhaps it is because the village treats him unfairly.” Lydia frowned and gave a loud tsk.

“We have reason to, believe me. Penniless families used to pile on his door, begging for food, but always he’d shoo them away.”

“But,” Lloyd stuttered, “that sounds rather unlike him.

Surely he gave them food?” Lydia drew her eyes towards the heavens.

“Indeed, but only cooked nonsense. Nothing from the Gardens themselves, mind. Before I forget, did you manage to steal the apple?” Lloyd drew from his coat a shining if bruised golden apple that generated snugness within their souls.

“Fresh from the tree. My uncle allows me to pick them only if I’m ill, so I had to fake a migraine.” The girl’s petite hands gently enclosed the fruit. Her long fingers stroked its humped skin lovingly, and Lloyd felt a burst of unexpected jealousy and wonder at seeing such a miracle, such a connection between girl and fruit. They shivered staidly.

Eventually night approached the village. The trees swayed gently to the winter wind, their leafless branches a groaning orchestra of misery, their childless trunks leering at the sky - one needn’t go on. A cloaked Lloyd walked briskly, away from his uncle’s home and towards a small field alighted by the moon, where a girl of his complexion awaited him. “Did you do it?” The girl’s voice was mellifluous and warmed Lloyd’s heart in a way the Gardens never could. He anticipated the rush of disappointment as he shook his head sadly.

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“This is sure to help mama’s illness. Oh, if only the whole world could enjoy the Gardens!” She stroked it gently once more, and her eyes grew wide as her rich voice unleashed a gentle cradling lullaby to the winds.

Finally both sat down on the bony grass, glancing at the cloudless sky and stars. It was a beautiful night.

“You’d think your uncle would be more generous with the Gardens,” put it Lydia, “for he used to give little baskets to my mama whenever she or her family was ill. She told me about it, and when I asked why he stopped, she sighed that it was a different time.

Whatever made him change?”

“Maybe my uncle loved your mother,” whispered Lloyd before he could stop himself. The girl stared at him strangely, and eventually rose to her feet.

“I must go.” The words reverberated as she uttered them, and without looking back she fled.

Lloyd slowly rose too. He felt his languish grow and coil round his body like a serpent. What had he done?

Had he insulted Lydia, the Lydia that had forever been his childhood friend, companion and adviser? Had they not withstood so many difficulties, the sum of which seemed by far inferior of what had just happened? Suddenly the fire within his great heart began to roar with merciless passion, and every limb in his body was raging and fiery with zest.

“Whatever it takes,” he said, determined, and whitefaced and tight-lipped he walked onwards, to face the wrath of his uncle.

Lord Caldwell was sitting by the hearth, immersed in yet another plushy armchair, reading a tome greater than he - the whole room was cloudy with the smoke of his pipe. He turned the page when the doors flew open to reveal his nephew, red-faced and gasping.

“Why, hello Lloyd. Why are you so red?”

“I ran,” wheezed he, “and you must stop smoking that pipe. It’ll be the end of both of us.” The uncle gave an easy smile.

“Nonsense! The air of the Gardens is so refreshing, I’m certainly going to live forever. Anyway, what’s the matter?” Lloyd kicked the floor and ruffled his hair, then took a seat beside Lord Caldwell. He noticed that his uncle’s moustache was quivering, as it usually did whenever he was suspecting trouble.

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“What do you think of Mrs. Greensbourne?” The hand holding the pipe trembled visibly.

“Ah, Lydia’s mother? A very lovely lady,” he emphasised especially on this last word as if it meant the world to him, “but why should you ask?”

“Did you love her?” Now the pipe dropped to the ground, yet the lord’s mouth was still puckered up as if holding it.

“Well,” the older man was as bustling as a schoolboy, “in my youth, perhaps. She had great plans for the Gardens, you know. She wished to open them to the world, and sell our produce worldwide to the common people, to kings and queens, to actors and musicians to everyone.” His gaze sharpened as he caught Lloyd looking at him dreamily.

“But why should this bother you? The past,” he hesitated, “should remain where it is presently.

Besides, she’s a widow. It wouldn’t be appropriate whatsoever.”

“Of course it would,” cried Lloyd, “imagine! You two have had emotions for one another since your youth, and you have been diverted by time - the greatest love story ever told! A lovely widow marrying an elderly bachelor -” Lord Caldwell raised his eyebrows.

“Elderly?” Lloyd blushed.

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“Well, you know what I mean! Why don’t you try?”

“Because the condition of our marriage was that I should solemnly promise to uphold her wish of revealing the Gardens to the public.” Lord Caldwell stared at the flickering flames. It seemed that years of riddles and secrets, which had previously clouded his heart, had now been released in a storm of love.

“The Gardens… mean the world to me. I have no talents or skills, no good looks or rich voice - don’t interrupt me! You know it is true. I only have my wealth, which has been handed down from my worthier ancestors. I only own the Gardens. I would not care a fig if the whole house burnt down, so long that the Gardens remained safe. They are a secret, always waiting to be discovered, the greatest joy of my life…” He broke off to wipe his moist eyes.

“The Gardens reflect their Owner. You think they are nothing but joy and sunshine? Bah! Then you are wrong, boy. Wrong!” He suddenly spat this last word, and the whole house rang with his anger.

“Your Lydia is just the same as her mother. She wishes me to reveal myself to the world, to prove that I am not a lonely man on a hill, but a person - but how can I be foolish enough to do so?”

Lloyd looked sadly at his uncle, and pointed to the breast pocket where the small key bulged ever so slightly. Lord Caldwell sighed, and grew tenfold older.

“Never love someone who requires you to change, my boy. Unfortunately I’ve done that for all those years, and I’m fed up with waiting for them to change instead of myself. So tell the village to come round at eleven tomorrow. Bring Lydia and her mother if you like. You know what to do.” And with a sphinx-like smile, he retreated to his bedroom, leaving his nephew more perplexed than ever.

Although it was late, no one seemed to care when they found out that the great Lord Caldwell was inviting the entire village to visit his Gardens tomorrow morning. When he told her the news, Lydia shrieked with joy and kissed the youth before rushing off to tell her family. Fletcher Dorman and his gang were for once wordless and astonished, looking at Lloyd with something nearing to respect. A washerwoman fainted, the mayor nearly choked, a child celebrated so

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much she received a punishment - and so on. For once in their drab dull lives, the townspeople had something to look forward to, a figure to worship.

Had anyone dared to explore the walled outside of the Gardens, they would have found that formerly one could enter through a pair of inconspicuous bronze gates found near the very farthest corner, which overlooked a distant forest. Thus much of Lloyd’s morning was taken up by removing the barricades and various obstacles that Lord Caldwell’s ancestors had placed in order to ward off intruders.

Lord Caldwell paced in his room, powdering himself, twirling his moustache… time could have not marched on more slowly. Finally the town clock struck eleven, and the townspeople stampeded up the hill, screaming, biting, and leering as they rushed up the hill. The ashen man who observed them noted their brutality as animalistic, and grew all the more nervous.

The townspeople too stared back, for they had not seen Lord Caldwell in a good two decades. Still his face seemed to contain precious youth, though it was sagged by weight. Behind him stood a beaming Lloyd, bearing a few scratches on his face from the morning’s work - but as he reassured Lydia, it was nothing.

Finally everyone collected by the outside gates, murmuring and squabbling over who would get the best place, but even Dorman’s roguish face was filled with respect and pride towards them. Several minutes passed until Lord Caldwell cleared his throat.

“Townspeople,” he spoke darkly, gravely and quietly, yet no one missed a word, “I present to you… the Elderwich Gardens.” He bowed amid much speculative applause, and pushed open the gates, which as usual flooded the onlooker with the feeling of enigmatic secrets waiting to be revealed. Right at that moment, the sun unveiled itself from beneath a cloud, so that all looking at the Gardens were temporarily blinded.

The tension rose as the people averted their eyes to gaze at the spectacle they had dreamt about all their lives - but they gasped in apprehension. Where once

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stood the Gardens of Elderwich, were a mere reflection of the wonder that had once been there ashes and ruins of the miracle that had flourished a short time before.

It was not sunlight but frost that awaited them, not a land of plenty but a land of nothing, not luscious crops but withered plant corpses, not love and giving but hatred and wickedness, not a newly changed Lord Caldwell but one who had never known love, not happiness from the townspeople but a fiery revolution as they tore and burnt the house, its owners and the remains of the Gardens to the ground.

A lone sparrow hopped over the remains, twitching and cawing - ruffled, it opened its beak and out came the song, the song of life again.

A vernal day’s worth A lonely wind touched my ebbing shell on a fine vernal day At first throbbing its bare crust with a childlike strength Next caressing it with irreplaceable joy, whispering a sweet lullaby Finally growing angry, the lonely wind Bore a hole through the egg, and I hatched With my head on the ground.

Soon I didn’t know What to think, of the wind’s many faces And many hands, but soon I grew accustomed To my unusual mother. Her shivering warmth And unbound strength Only impressed me further, yet I loved her no more than An unspeakable emotion.

Eventually my feelings towards her rose to the surface, Like an innocent toy boat caught in a roaring tide, And she vowed to never speak to me again.

Yet as hard as she tried, she was always there And could never abandon me.

Often I saw her with other children, Her maddening voice echoing throughout the valley As the wind tried to mother us all And each time lost patience.

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Aesop The Greedy Fox Samuel Brown

Published as received

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COMIC

Pegasus Pegasus – the powerful, magical, majestic, winged horse – who is he? His parents, Poseidon – the god of the seas – and Medusa, should be more than proud of their son. Maybe you’ve already guessed it by the names Poseidon and Medusa; Pegasus originates from Greek mythology.

Pegasus was born when Medusa was beheaded by Perseus (I would not consider this a wonderful way to be born, heh...), jumping out of her neck, flying into the sky and over the horizon.

The Origins of Our House Mascots Written by Dana Zimmer Our houses – Phoenix, Pegasus, and Griffin – are houses that represent love, resilience, leadership and loyalty. But...have you ever wondered where a Phoenix comes from? What a Griffin is? What Pegasus actually means? Well, read this article to find out about the origins of our house mascots!

Pegasus not only means “poetic inspiration” but also signifies “springs ” (Pegae), meaning that Pegasus can stomp his feet on the ground, creating a spring full of magical, sparkly water.

Another fact that you might want to know is that Pegasus is an immortal horse, meaning that he can never die.

This is not such a unique feature for us Pegasi since all our house mascots are immortal!

But, like I said earlier, Pegasus is the son of the well-known Poseidon, explaining how Pegasus has control over water! Poseidon gifted Pegasus to his other son, Bellerophon.

Bellerophon and Pegasus were the dream-team; Bellerophon used Pegasus wisely for many things, one of them being fighting battles against the Chimera. But in the end, Pegasus is a wonderful mythical creature that flies in the sky and reaches the stars.

HOUSE COMPETITIONS

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Phoenix The Phoenix is one of the most wellknown mythical creatures, representing fire, heat and glory. It also represents rebirth, since it’st reborn from its own ashes. The Phoenix originates from old Egypt, living up to 500 years. Towards the end of its life, the Phoenix builds a nest. It then sets the nest on fire and is consumed by the flames. Out of the ashes, a new Phoenix springs to life.

When it is strong enough, it flies the previous Phoenix’s ashes to Heliopolis in Egypt. There, it places them on the altar of the Egyptian Sun god. This explains the immortality of the three mascots again.

Not only does Phoenix mean “peerless beauty or excellence”, but also powerful, hot, majestic fire-bird. The tears of a Phoenix’ eye have healing powers, and mostly help the poorly. Throughout history, the Phoenix has been embraced as a symbol of hope and resilience, serving as a powerful metaphor for overcoming adversity and emerging stronger from challenges. Altogether, the Phoenix is an immortal, burning, majestic and wonderful bird. May it live as long, powerful and warm in our hearts.

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HOUSE COMPETITIONS

Griffin The Griffin, the distinguished, majestic, grand and strong creature? “Tell us its history”, I hear you say! Well, the Griffin is a mythical creature that originates in Greek mythology once again. The Griffin’s body consists of two animals; the head of an eagle and the body of a lion.

Griffins were normally used to guard the palaces of gods or a dragon’s cave.

During the Middle Ages in Europe, eagles were considered the king of birds and lions the king of beasts, so merged, they formed a mighty Griffin.

Griffin means “lord” or “prince”, but also has the meaning of “powerful”, “grand” and “strong in faith.” Other facts you might want to know about the Griffin is that in many legends and stories, Griffins are depicted as wise and noble beings. Their intelligence, combined with their majestic appearance, has made them symbols of knowledge, guardianship, and wisdom. Additionally, the combination of eagle and lion represents the balance of earth and sky.

It shows the harmony of the contrasting elements, so the Griffin is pretty cool! All in all, the Griffin is a warmhearted guardian of grand and poor creatures or people, representing power, strength and wisdom. May the Griffin fly high and guard us.

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Chun Kitpongnikorn

Teddy Tatham

Leneya & Layla Bauer

Emilie Hohensinner

Sofia Malmberg

Jamie Coren

Natasha Tatham

Siianne French

House Art Competition 2023

House Competitions Mr Boylan

Leaderboard status: 5 July 2024

As we end another chapter in our House Competition, we must say congratulations to Griffin House. They were our inaugural House Competition Winners in 2022, and regained their crown in 2024. A massive well done to Claire Justine Enriquez on her inspirational leadership as the Griffin House Captain. We look forward to seeing the performances of our students in the House Competition in the next academic year 2024/2025.

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Issue 7 Contributors Stefanos Mores, Anna Savrasova, Alice Sculthorpe, Leo Brown, Teddy Tatham, Crystal Kim, Alia Barry, Claire Enriquez, Bo Burnham, Sergej Metodijevic, Nikolas Koulouris-Gilbert, Xenia Plarre, Pandora French, Mrs Barnes, Miss Greaves, Adam Price, Jack Zaehringer, Veer Usadadiya, Stephan Visagie, Methawin Bavornchotnitiwanich, Yassir Hajjaj, Zhao Radthanaworrakarn, Filip Malmberg, Mr Fordham, Teia Procopie, Miss Petito, Brandon Goodrum, Anya Coren, Camila Po, Mrs Hope, Jude Josephine Abou Mechrek, Samuel Brown, Natasha Tatham, Winwin Shinpat, Punpun Srisuwan, Dana Zimmer, Chun Kitpongnikorn, Emilie Hohensinner, Jamie Coren, Leneya Bauer, Layla Bauer, Sofia Malmberg, Siianne French, Mr Boylan The Cambridge Collective