Crystal Balls and Moroccan Walls

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Crystal Balls and Moroccan Walls Page 9

by David Fletcher


  The first signs of this paramount achievement of humanity were a series of roundabouts and then the start of a dual carriageway. And soon after this there were a couple of even more obvious indicators that the Nature-seekers had finally arrived in an area where modern man had imposed his own special brand of enlightened advancement – and these were in the form of a row of red and white bollards, followed shortly thereafter by a half-hidden speed-trap. This was all a little dispiriting for Brian, and, as his minibus raced along a lofty dual-carriageway – with views of a gargantuan Agadir down to its left – he started to pine for the empty ugliness of the previous six days. But at least Agadir itself would be deferred for a while. The Nature-seekers would be based here for the last two nights of their trip, but first they were just skirting this metropolis and driving north in search of bald ibises.

  These are iconic birds that Brian and Sandra had seen only once before – in Syria. There, they had suffered a bone-shaking ride into the depths of its desert to catch just a glimpse of them, the last three bald ibises in that country. They really are that rare. And even in Morocco they are extremely thin on the ground and constitute a highly endangered species. Which meant that when a dozen of them were spotted right next to the main road only a few miles out of Agadir, there was more than just a little surprise and a great deal of delight within the ranks of our birders. This was a treat, and it certainly cheered Brian up no end, even if it did make him wonder why he’d had to suffer so much in Syria to see only three of them.

  Ibises ticked, it was time to move further along what had now become the coastal road, with views of both a wild Atlantic and of precipitous drops – as the road wound its way around a whole string of headlands – until the Nature-seekers arrived at a beach...

  No, it wasn’t time to don the Speedos and to larrup on the sun-screen, as, apart from anything else, it was cold, windy and still very grey, and Brian and his birder companions were here to find birds, not to enjoy themselves in the surf. Although, to start with, they found only camels. Ironic really. Six days in the desert, and only the occasional view of these remarkable animals. But here, at the back of the beach, were literally hundreds of them – very close by and very camelly. Yes, they were standing in an enormous group, looking somewhat supercilious and doing that wobbly thing they do with their mouths. And remaining in a group because they had around them half a dozen camel-herders, who gave every impression that they were more than a match for even a thousand of these beasts. The camels had better behave themselves and stay in their group – or else...

  In fact, the camel-herders, having spotted a group of strangely attired and strangely old Europeans, still managed to keep their animals under control even while they were endeavouring, at the same time, to earn an extra few bob. Which is to say, that they soon approached every Nature-seeker with a camera, to invite him or her to take a photo of their camels – for a fee – or just to ask them for money whether they wanted a photo or not. Clearly they’d underestimated the scale of the economic crisis in Europe and what this meant in terms of the generosity or otherwise of a band of its citizens – and they got nothing. Except maybe the odd patronising smile and the occasional badly pronounced: “non merci”. So off they went with their army of camels – to who knows where – and the Nature-seekers could get on with their birding, and, if they were anything like Brian and Sandra, with their contemplation of the “splitters” and the “lumpers”.

  It all started with a Moroccan cormorant, which is a form of the great cormorant with a distinctive white neck and breast, and found only in this part of the world, but a form which is merely a race and not a species – yet. However, there are moves by the “splitters”, still resisted by the “lumpers”, to designate it as a true species, and one which will then be separate from all the other great cormorants. It is one of the many battles going on between those who are keen to recognise different species when the evidence is available (the “splitters”), and those who are less inclined to support this “species promotion” (the “lumpers”) on the basis of what they might regard as only superficial differences, which to date have earned the birds in question the status of just a separate race within a common species. Such is the active state of evolution and the wonderful untidiness of the natural world, that these battles are never likely to end, and ornithologists all over the world will be able to occupy themselves with such arcane concerns for decades to come. Which is all rather sad but, at the same time, it’s a helluva lot better than waging real wars or generally screwing up the planet, and it is genuinely completely harmless. And for what it’s worth, both Brian and Sandra were on the side of the splitters on this one. This Moroccan cormorant was clearly a very different bird from any other cormorant they’d ever seen before.

  Nevertheless, ornithological conflicts of this sort couldn’t keep an interest in food at bay indefinitely, and Brian was very relieved when finally the beach was abandoned in favour of a (cheese-included) picnic lunch – and some respite from that bloody wind. And full of cheese, salad and chewed-up bun, he was also quite relieved when it was time to leave this bleak scrap of coast and make their way back to Agadir.

  This journey was uneventful other than when they were nearing this enormous city, and were passing a stretch of truly exceptional wall. Because this one went on for a mile or so, was smart, lined on its exterior with well-clipped shrubs and, on its ridge, it had a whole line of clearly operational security cameras. It was the front wall of a gigantic compound that reached right down to the sea-shore in the distance. And the road, where it passed this compound and beyond it, right into the outskirts of Agadir, was well-tended, litter-free and decorated with yet more shrubs and some pennants on poles. Could it be that this was a royal compound, housing one of a number of royal palaces that were dotted around this country? And so as not to offend the royal eyes of any of their royal owners, as they were shipped from one palatial, compound-encircled pad to another, the road was maintained in a state of literally extraordinary perfection? Well, Brian never found out for sure. But he would have put money on it if pushed, and he would revisit it in his thoughts just the very next day.

  Before then, however, there was a whole new hotel to occupy his thoughts, and this one was very different to all those that had gone before. To start with, it was right in the middle of Agadir – quite near the beach – and it was a genuine, come-here-for-a–bit-of–winter-sun-type, resort hotel. Brian and Sandra’s room was at its front on the third floor, giving them a view of that nearby beach, along with a great slice of Agadir (which has been largely rebuilt since a devastating earthquake struck here more than fifty years ago). It also gave them a view of a couple of mobile-phone masts disguised as giant palm-trees, and of the hotel’s swimming pool directly below them. Around this were a few studies in corpulence and pale skin that were entirely inactive, and one pair of active guests who were investigating the mysteries of ping-pong with only limited success. Oh... and there were the sounds of a bilingual session of bingo, emanating from somewhere near the side of the pool, which reinforced in spades the fact that the Nature-seekers had definitely made it right back into the heart of civilisation...

  If there was still any doubt about this change in their situation, it was dispelled the moment Brian and Sandra entered the hotel’s bar for a pre-dinner drink. This was a study in dark wood panelling and inadequate lighting, and one got nuts with one’s drinks – to nibble, not to talk to... And then the dining room was in the same mould, if rather brighter and full of more than nuts. For here, there was a whole row of tajines – with coals burning beneath them and different sorts of stews bubbling within them – which, Brian had to concede, all looked a lot more tempting than any of those encountered previously on this trip. His was rather good – as was the accompanying wine – and the prospect of an early night in bed. Yes, despite the promise of an after-dinner belly-dancer (strictly for innocent entertainment, apparently) Brian was keen to get back to his room and his book preparation, a
nd probably even keener than Sandra.

  And so again they were soon disposed on a mattress – this one of the shared variety – and Brian was announcing the nature of his latest crystal ball, and hence the subject area for this evening’s discourse – which was education!

  He started with an explanation of how things had continued to go downhill towards the middle of the century, and specifically how exams had fallen off the edge of a very steep cliff.

  ‘Nobody would acknowledge it, but the writing was on the wall when the last boy in Britain not to be awarded an “A” at A level sued the examining board on the grounds that getting only a “B” was an infringement of his human rights. He won, of course, and not only did he get that “A” he required, but he also got an aegrotat 2.I at the university of his choice and a pile of dosh. Then he appealed this decision and got the 2.1 upgraded to a first – and an even bigger pile of dosh. Well, that just opened the flood gates and, very soon, the human rights lawyers successfully argued that having to pass exams was akin to having to prove that you’re innocent. And that this was clearly entirely wrong and that instead there should be a presumption that anyone could pass any exam until such time as it was proved otherwise. Which meant, of course, that students stopped taking exams. Because then it might have been revealed – or it almost certainly would have been revealed – that they knew bugger-all about anything at all. Whereas, of course, by not taking them, they still got awarded a straight pass every time.

  ‘This wasn’t the best encouragement for what might be termed “learning anything”, and the school system was undermined even further by the elimination of a whole slew of traditional subjects in favour of new ones that were regarded as “more relevant to our modern society”. So, out went arithmetic and mathematics – as another infringement of human rights – because they were just far too difficult and could easily cause untold mental suffering. Then English went – as this was regarded as far too elitist in a country that now hosted over two hundred languages. Then geography. “Everyone’s got a sat-nav now. So why bother?” Then history. “I mean, it’s all happened, hasn’t it? So who the hell cares?” Then every discipline of science – because they either constituted an unacceptable risk under updated Health and Safety legislation (all those Bunsen-burners and finger-nipping crocodile clips), or they had the potential to offend all those who basically believed that science was the work of the devil. Yes, I’m afraid it was only a matter of time before the only three “R”s you’d ever find in a school were “Ring-toning”, “Rioting” and “Ritalin”...’

  Sandra finally interrupted. She may have decided to sit this one out to start with, but she obviously couldn’t help herself and she asked Brian a question.

  ‘You’re not telling me that it was just these three “R”s. What were the other subjects? You know, the ones that were “more relevant to our modern society”?’

  ‘Well, some you’d expect and some you maybe wouldn’t...’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Well, there were lessons in civil responsibilities, which were soon replaced with lessons in civil entitlements – and how to navigate one’s way through the benefits system. Then Health and Safety studies, bullying etiquette, texting, tweeting and tattoo studies. Lessons in piercing and parenting – although not always as combined studies. Uh... use-of-cutlery instruction – up to spoon level. Uh... toilet training. Uh... getting-out-of-bed studies – with options in either getting dressed or getting washed. And then training in such disciplines as walking upright, staying awake – and breathing...’

  ‘You’re not exactly going out of your way to impress the teaching profession, are you? In fact, I’d go as far as to say that you’re going to get right up its collective nose if you put any of that in a book. You’re on NHS territory again.’

  ‘Well, it might be a bit provocative...’

  ‘Provocative! It’s downright insulting.’

  ‘Well, it’s just the way I want to develop the chapter. Because, by 2050, what I’m going to say is that education is effectively defunct, and what’s left is just the celebration of ignorance. And before you say that’s just terrible or ridiculous, bear in mind that the celebration of ignorance seems to be establishing itself in Britain already. You know, if you’re intelligent or eager to learn, you now almost have to hide it. Because apparently “learnin’ ain’t cool any more”.’

  ‘You do have to hide it,’ observed Sandra in a low voice.

  ‘So... anyway, this celebration of ignorance is exemplified by the gold stars awarded for the answers to the following two history questions – taken from the graduation paper given to all pupils in their final year of school. And bear in mind that history hasn’t been taught in schools for years now. So long, in fact, that the teachers are equally ignorant of what went on in the past. So marking is all about recognising imagination and “inventiveness” in answers, and, to a degree, “disrespectful creativity”.’

  ‘Come on then,’ cringed Sandra. ‘Let me have them.’

  ‘Well, how about an answer to “What is a Spinning Jenny?” along the lines of: “The PR contemporary of Mrs Beaton – or an early attempt at a powered dildo”. Or the answer to the question “Who was William of Orange?” as: “The founder of an old mobile phone network or Ron Weasley’s granddad”.’

  Sandra looked horrified, but then clearly remembered her role as a sounding-board – and sounded.

  ‘Well, apart from those answers revealing that the student in question did, in fact, have some knowledge of what happened in the past – despite not having been taught anything – they also reveal that, once again, you’re skating on very thin ice. And it might be easier than you think to fall into a very deep lake of gratuitous offence. I hope to goodness, Brian, that you haven’t got any more of this stuff.’

  At which point, Brian reached into the drawer in his bedside table and pulled out two sheets of paper. Then he handed them to his wife whose eyes had now widened quite considerably.

  ‘I couldn’t remember them all – without writing them down. And, well, in view of what you’ve said, you might want to read them.’

  Sandra didn’t say anything in response to this suggestion, but she did indeed read what was on the two sheets of paper. And on the first was a list of ten questions and answers from a mock exam paper entitled: “Geography ignorance”. The questions and answers were as follows:

  Q1 Rome is the capital of which country?

  A1 Easy. Romeania.

  Q2 What do the geysers do in Iceland?

  A2 Wait by the door til their missuses have dun the shoppin.

  Q3 What is “tundra”?

  A3 What yer get with lightnin.

  Q4 What is the capital of Poland?

  A4 Wallsall.

  Q5 Pakistan, Afghanistan and all the other “Stans” are in which continent?

  A5 Stantartica.

  Q6 What is the former name of Iran?

  A6 Peugeot.

  Q7 What is the longest river in Brazil?

  A7 Presumably the one that starts furthest from the sea.

  Q8 What is the current relationship between Turkey and Brussels?

  A8 Well, like one of meat and veg, I suppose.

  Q9 Where, in the Middle East, is Jordan?

  A9 Didn’t even know she’d gone there.

  Q10 Where would you find Libya?

  A10 Between a lady’s legs.

  On the next sheet of paper was a list of ten questions and answers from a mock exam paper entitled: “Science ignorance” – and these were as follows:

  Q1 What is the difference between a compound and an element?

  A1 If it’s in Afghanistan, a compound has walls and an element don’t.

  Q2 How many carbon atoms are there in a benzene ring?

  A2 Depends on the size of the ring. But probably millions.

  Q3 Describe Boyle’s Law.

  A3 Difficult to remember.

  Q4 Of what is diamond composed?

  A4 Seven let
ters.

  Q5 Matter can exist in more than one state. Name just two of these.

  A5 Ohio and Kansas.

  Q6 Name as many of the halogens as you can.

  A6 Chlorine, Fluorine, Urine, Doreen and Maureen.

  Q7 What is the third law of thermodynamics?

  A7 Thou shalt not get the hots for thy neighbour’s ox.

  Q8 What is a joule?

  A8 Something they put in joulery.

  Q9 What do we use a prism for?

  A9 To lock up criminals.

  Q10 What is the principal property of a catalyst?

  A10 Probably his house.

  Sandra let both pieces of paper drop to her lap. Then for quite a few seconds she said nothing. When she did, it was in a quiet voice again.

  ‘Brian. I don’t know where to start. It could be on that Libya question – or on the unlikelihood of Jordan still being a known celebrity in 2050 – or on the apparent contradiction in not teaching these subjects in schools by 2050, but still having exams in them, even though you’ve just told me that students don’t take exams any more. But rather than any of these, I’d like to start on the... well, let’s just call it the rather insensitive nature of your whole proposition. I mean, this really isn’t just provocative, it’s also very rude. And I suspect you know that.’

  Brian looked a bit sheepish, but he then responded to Sandra’s observations with some unusual vigour.

  ‘I think it’s even ruder and infinitely more insensitive – and bloody outrageous – that children at school these days are denied the sort of education we got ourselves. You know, the state education that existed in the Fifties and Sixties, which used to be the province of teachers rather than that of a whole bunch of misguided politicians. And you can’t deny that kids are being short-changed now. And I mean big time. All thanks to all those pillocks with too many ideological ideas and too few brain cells or even the slightest comprehension of what real education is all about – and what common sense in education is all about. So I’m not having a go at the pupils in our current system of so-called education – who do seem to be having some real difficulties in even the basics – but I am having a go at the system – and at all those jerks who have politicised it and ruined it. And if they keep pushing it along the same road as they are now, then by 2050, my mock exam papers won’t be too far off the mark. And ignorance will be the principal achievement of too many children in school. So, I am not, despite what you’ve said, going to apologise for what I’ve done. Although I do accept your point on my being a bit confused. You’re quite right. I can’t have any exam papers if I’ve scrapped exams and, all being well, Jordan, by 2050, will be a figure from the past. Or should that be a quite remarkable and constantly changeable figure from the past?’

 

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