October november 2010 model answers & mark scheme igcse

October / November 2010 IGCSE Model Answers

Empathetic Genre ConversionThe Question

Imagine a meeting between the writer and the town mayor to discuss the writer’s ideas for Rataia. Write the conversation that would take place. Include the views of both speakers on how the changes would affect: • the town; • the lives of the inhabitants; • the natural environment. Base the conversation on what you have read in Passage A and be careful to use your own words. Begin the conversation as follows: Mayor: I hear you’ve got some grand plans for our town. Write between 1½ and 2 sides, allowing for the size of your handwriting. Up to fifteen marks will be available for the content of your answer, and up to five marks for the quality of your writing.

Empathetic Genre ConversionThe Text

A Visit to Rataia In this story, the writer travels on foot to a small seaside town that is untouched by civilisation. The moment I arrived in Rataia, I knew I could transform this place into a world-class tourist resort. It was a ramshackle, run-down town with a handful of shops selling essential commodities. The biggest of these boasted the imposing title, ‘Emporium’. There was an apology for a hotel, where I was to stay in a cramped little room with a window too high for me to enjoy the sea view. The town square, with its sad, droopy trees, had an atmosphere of yesterday. In one corner, hiding behind a riot of bushes, stood a tiny church, sadly in need of restoration. So what had made me see the potential of Rataia? The day before, when I had reached the top of the hill behind the town, I was stunned by the natural beauty that lay below. There was the bay with its magnificent stretch of golden sand and the sea glistening in the sun, reflecting the brightness like a sheet of glass. On either side, the mountains fused into a purple haze. Silence was omnipresent, broken only by bursts of magical birdsong around me.

I descended to the tiny, forgotten town. I stood transfixed. Even here the sand was really pure and the water in the rock pools translucent. I gazed at myriads of fish with their dazzling colours darting, cruising or just lazing between the crevices. As I sat alone, in the one shabby café on the front, my imagination took over. The bay was extensive enough to accommodate thousands of visitors in comparative comfort. Once electricity was brought from the neighbouring towns, there could be five or six hotels, a casino or two, a truly modern waterpark. New, superior housing for the well-to-do would spread into the foothills behind the bay. Such was my entrepreneurial spirit! Finance was of course a major consideration, but just think of the money that my fashionable visitors would bring to my investment! In my mind’s eye, handsome people wandered along the spacious promenades, the women vying with each other to display the most charmingly casual or the finest formal clothes. Men would stroll in their smart designer items, or sport full evening dress for their visit to the Grand Theatre or the All Stars Concert Hall. Children would laugh happily as they caught sight of a special park just for them. And perhaps a very special theme park! The name ‘Everest’ crossed my mind.

The café owner approached, rubbing his hands on his faded apron. He sat down at the next table. ‘Not much of a place, is it?’ he asked. ‘We’re cut off from civilisation; there are no jobs here – you’re the first customer I’ve had this morning.’ ‘Ah,’ I answered, ‘but the climate … what a perfect temperature! What sunsets!’ ‘I suppose so,’ said the café owner, looking over the bay. ‘Though it’s always like this. The only change is every week or so when we have a thunderstorm or a tornado, and then everyone gets wet or blown away.’ ‘But,’ I blurted out enthusiastically, ‘I know a way to bring thousands of rich people here. Just think of that guy who takes you to the islands in his boat. He could buy a bigger boat and make his fortune.’ The owner looked at me hard and long. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we had someone like you a year back. Wanted to make the place some sort of paradise. He gave up quickly enough. You’ll never interest the people here. They prefer it the way it is. They may be poor and have no television or internet, but they like the simple life. You build a new road over the hills or tempt walkers with a chair-lift up the mountains and you don’t know what you’ll let loose. Just ask anyone here. Those islands you mentioned are real nature reserves – birds and animals few of us have ever seen. What would you do with our fish? Put them in some huge aquarium?’ He got up, wiping his hands on his apron. ‘I’m sure you’re a good man, but I wouldn’t even think of it if I were you.’

Empathetic Genre ConversionMarking Guidance

Empathetic Genre ConversionMark Scheme

Empathetic Genre ConversionModel Answer

Mayor: I hear you’ve got some grand plans for our town. Writer: I have indeed. In fact, I can see this town in the near future as transforming the lives of everyone in the region. People from all over the world will be keen to visit your beautiful town as well as experience a style and glamour that is scarcely imaginable at the moment. Mayor (amused): Glamour? That’s unlikely. It’s not often that our town has any tourists visit us, let alone one in search of glamour. Our town is a humble place at best. You think I wouldn’t like it to be more? Believe me, I’ve tried to raise its status. What you see around you is all this town will ever be. The inhabitants know that. In fact, they wouldn’t have it any other way. What might you do to change our town? Writer: Ah, that’s a good question. When I first arrived here, I was, frankly, unimpressed. I saw a town struggling to accommodate the few tourists who bothered to visit. Its few tourist spots were shoddy and disappointing. But then something changed. I noticed all the hidden splendour. I’ve never encountered such natural beauty! The views, the sunsets, the beaches…it’s incredible. If there could just be better accommodation, more attractions, then tourists would flock to this town!

Writer (brightly): It’d be easy! I would help, of course. All we would need be some investors. We would be able to build some top of the range hotels. You would see a return on your investment within the first few months. I can see it – a changed Rataia is springing up around us as we speak! Mayor: What effects would these changes have on our town and its inhabitants? You have to remember that as the elected mayor I am in a position of trust here, I cannot simply – Writer (interrupting): It would be the best thing that has ever happened to the people of Rataia! Look, just this morning I ate breakfast at a beach front cafe. You know what the owner told me? He told me that I was his first customer all day. Think, mayor, of the business that this man would get if the town was improved with a view to making Rataia a centre for tourism. And that’s not all… Mayor: No? Writer: No. Think of all the jobs that could be provided: hotels, restaurants, a water-based theme park. These all need construction, and therefore workers and managers need to be employed. Think of it – everyone would benefit! The town would prosper! No longer would people here be living in second-rate housing. I can see the whole town’s infrastructure being transformed. Indeed, the transformation could affect the entire region, the –

Mayor (interrupting): That’s all very well, but what of the environment? The natural beauty of the area would be spoilt by all the new buildings. Our town would become over commercialised. It would become a busy, polluted city, with obnoxious tourists ruining the tranquil place that the locals so enjoy. Writer (desperately): But it wouldn’t! These would be dignified tourists; they would be rich people with money to spend in the local community and a sense of decorum. They would be the types of people who would attend high profile cultural events not raves. Mayor: You’re not the first to propose this idea, you know. Someone tried to do a similar thing last year. I thought, initially, that it’d be great for our town. But it didn’t work. You don’t understand the locals. They like their lives just as they are presently. They don’t like change. Your flashy attractions would be the end of our nature reserves and many of our local customs. The locals would be horrified and wouldn’t want to be a part of the new town. It just wouldn’t work. Writer: No, my plan is different to the last one! I can see it! It wouldn’t destroy the beauty, it’s bring the town into the 21st century. It – Mayor (interrupting): The locals won’t be tempted by your offer. I appreciate your offer, but my mind is made up and my decision is to leave things as they are. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have a meeting to attend.

Re-read the descriptions of: the town in paragraph 2; (b) what the writer experienced from the top of the hill in paragraph 3. Select words and phrases from these descriptions, and explain how the writer has created effects by using this language.

Re-read the descriptions of: the town in paragraph 2; (b) what the writer experienced from the top of the hill in paragraph 3. Select words and phrases from these descriptions, and explainhow the writer has created effects by using this language.

It was a ramshackle, run-down town with a handful of shops selling essential commodities. The biggest of these boasted the imposing title, ‘Emporium’. There was an apology for a hotel, where I was to stay in a cramped little room with a window too high for me to enjoy the sea view. The town square, with its sad, droopy trees, had an atmosphere of yesterday. In one corner, hiding behind a riot of bushes, stood a tiny church, sadly in need of restoration.

Writer’s EffectMarking Guidance (a)

Writer’s EffectModel Answer (a)

The writer gives the reader a clear image of an unpleasant location for a holiday. The town is described as a “ramshackle, run-down town”. The word “ramshackle” not only implies poor quality but the sound of the word suggests chaos. The word “run-down” informs the reader that the town is in a state of disrepair. The alliteration exaggerates or highlights this effect. The town is said to be lacking in shops. Its largest shop is said to “boast[ ] an imposing title”. The verb “boasted” is employed ironically here, giving the impression that if this is the best that the town can be said to offer, it can’t possibly be an impressive place. The word “imposing” adds to the sarcastic effect. Accommodation in the town leaves a lot to be desired: “There was an apology for a hotel”. This gives the reader the sense that the hotel is so bad that it is worthless. The word “apology” suggests that the hotel itself is saying sorry for how bad it is. Its rooms are “cramped” and its windows are “too high for [the writer] to enjoy the sea view”.

The hotel’s layout has, therefore, been poorly planned – it doesn’t even make the most of its best feature: the beautiful views. The town square is described as having “sad, droopy trees, an atmosphere of yesterday”. This gives the reader a wistful, melancholic feeling: the town’s best days are clearly in the past. The word “droopy” captures the idea that the town is a listless place that has little impact on those that visit. Even the church is in a state of disrepair (“sadly in need of restoration”). The atmosphere remains downbeat. The writer conveys very vividly the idea of a town so mired in decline that it doesn’t even look after its local church.

So what had made me see the potential of Rataia? The day before, when I had reached the top of the hill behind the town, I was stunned by the natural beauty that lay below. There was the bay with its magnificent stretch of golden sand and the sea glistening in the sun, reflecting the brightness like a sheet of glass. On either side, the mountains fused into a purple haze. Silence was omnipresent, broken only by bursts of magical birdsong around me.

Writer’s EffectMarking Guidance (b)

Writer’s EffectModel Answer (b)

When the writer explores the area we are given an image of the “more attractive side of Rataia. He writes that he “was stunned by the natural beauty” of the place. The word “stunned” conveys a sense of his surprise at the picturesque nature of the town. The forceful nature of the experience is suggested to the reader by the verb “stun”. The place has clearly made a huge impact on the writer. The writer describes the bay as “magnificent”, with “golden sand” and sea that “glistens in the sun”. The alliterative “golden” and “glistening” implies the area’s beauty; the adjective “magnificent” is emphatic, suggesting that Rataia is an exceptionally beautiful place. The simile “the sea…reflect[s] the brightness like a sheet of glass” provides the reader with a sense of the sea’s purity. We are given an image of the ocean as clear and sparkling.

The fact that the sun is beginning to set is implied in the description of “the mountains fused into a purple haze.” The only sounds that can be heard in the town are “magical birdsong”. The phrase conveys the idea that the town is a kind of enchanted place, a kind of earthly paradise. Generally, the writer gives the reader the sense that Rataia is silent, calm and beautiful - so much so that the reader wishes to see the place for themselves.

Summarise: the discomforts and dangers caused by the inhospitable place described in Passage B; (b) the disappointing aspects of the town noticed by the writer of Passage A. Use your own words as far as possible. You should write about 1 side in total, allowing for the size of your handwriting. Up to fifteen marks will be available for the content of your answer, and up to five marks for the quality of your writing.

Summarise: the discomforts and dangers caused by the inhospitable place described in Passage B; (b) the disappointing aspects of the town noticed by the writer of Passage A. Use your own words as far as possible. You should write about 1 side in total, allowing for the size of your handwriting. (approx. 250 words) Up to fifteen marks will be available for the content of your answer, and up to five marks for the quality of your writing.

A Winter Journey In this extract, the writer and four other travellers embark on a hard journey, taking a short cut across a lake where people do not normally go. We depart on the third of March, accompanied through the gate and down the road to the lakeside by an escort of children and dogs. After we pass the irrigation wall and branch off from the river road, taking the track to the right used by no one but hunters and fowlers, our escort begins to dwindle. The sun has risen but gives off no warmth. The wind beats at us across the lake, bringing tears to our eyes. In single file we wind away from the walled town. For the first three days we plod south and then eastward. To our right stretches a plain of wind-eroded clay terraces, merging into banks and red dust clouds and then into the yellow, hazy sky. To our left is flat marshland, belts of reeds, and the lake on which the central ice sheet has not melted. The wind blowing over the ice freezes our breath, so that rather than ride, we often walk for long stretches sheltered by our horses.

Two of the packhorses are loaded with firewood, but this must be conserved for the desert. Once, half buried in drift sand, we come upon a spreading, mound-like tamarisk bush which we hack to pieces for fuel; for the rest we have to be contented with bundles of dry reeds. In these early days of the journey we eat well. We have brought salted meat, flour, beans, dried fruit, and there are wildfowl to shoot. But we have to be sparing with water. The marsh water here in the shallow southern area is too salty to be drinkable. One of the men has to wade into the water to fill the skins, or to break off lumps of ice. Yet even the melted ice is so bitter and salty that it can only be drunk with strong red tea, and that causes stomach problems. After long marches my bones ache and by nightfall I am so tired that I have no appetite. I trudge on till I cannot put one foot in front of the other; then I clamber into the saddle and wave one of the men forward to take over the task of picking out the faint track. The wind never lets up. It howls at us across the ice, veiling the sky in a cloud of red dust. From the dust there is no hiding: it penetrates our clothing, cakes our skin, sifts into our baggage. We eat with coated tongues. Dust rather than air becomes the medium through which we live.

On the fourth day we begin the crossing of the ancient lake bed that stretches another forty miles beyond the marshes. The terrain is more desolate than anything we have yet seen. Nothing grows on this salty lake floor which, in places, buckles and pushes up jagged crystalline hexagons half a metre wide. There are dangers too: crossing an unusually smooth patch, the front horse suddenly plunges through the crust and sinks chest-deep in foul green slime. The man who leads it stands a moment dumbstruck on thin air before he too splashes in. We struggle to haul them out, the salt crust splintering under the hooves of the flailing horse, the hole widening, a salty stench everywhere. After this we push our horses even harder, in a hurry to be off the dead lake. We bow our heads and drive into the sand, picking a way over the jagged salt shards, avoiding the treacherous, smooth ground. When darkness falls we batter the tent pegs into the rock-hard salt; we burn our firewood at an extravagant rate and like sailors pray for land. On the fifth day we leave the lake floor behind and pass through smooth salt, which soon gives way to sand and stone. Everyone is heartened, even the horses, which have had nothing but a few handfuls of linseed and a bucketful of brackish water. Their condition is visibly deteriorating.

The journey described in Passage B requires that the traveller take little used paths. If something was to go wrong, it is unlikely that the traveller would be found. The area is very cold indeed; the high winds are particularly notable. Travellers must conserve their supplies. Water in particular is scarce. Melt water is unappealing, and, when taken in tea, the drink tends to cause stomach problems. The dust produced from the road is horribly inconvenient. It gets everywhere. The track itself is dangerous: falling through the salt crust can cause serious injury. (93 words)

Rataia is in a state of disrepair, with few shops and little accommodation available to the tourist. The only hotel available has uncomfortable rooms with tiny windows. The choice of restaurants, too, is limited; the dirty, unkempt café receives few visitors. Generally, the town has few amenities. The town does not have electricity, making it virtually impossible to communicate with the outside world when staying there. Occasional thunderstorms are a problem. Rataiais a town that is stuck in the past. Its inhabitants are resistant to change, even if it is their own best interests. (95 words)

SummaryMark Scheme for writing

October november 2010 model answers & mark scheme igcse

October november 2010 model answers & mark scheme igcse

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