Last night I saw The Jezabels, an Australian band I’d raved about earlier this year, at Montréal Corona Theatre’s small but lively and intimate venue. They were here on tour with Hey Rosetta!, a fantastic band from Newfoundland. Both bands put on a superb show… I do love it when people sound the same live as they do recorded.

The opening band Ivan & Alyosha‘s indie folk sound really set the tone for the night. Their song ‘Glorify’ (which can be heard on their site) was pretty nice, and the Brothers Karamazov references in the song, and the the band’s name, do not go unappreciated.

The Jezabels got the entire place rocking with a very high energy, almost electric performance. They had a pretty short set though and didn’t get the time to really engage the audience since I guess the headliners were Hey Rosetta! The live interpretations of their songs were pretty awesome though and Hayley Mary pulls off vocals to die for. I also managed to snag a their signed EPs (get ready Christmas stockings…) and meet the band members who were very friendly! Now either they need to come back to Montreal soon or I need to go to Australia. I’d actually prefer the latter since Winter Hell/Snowmageddon kicked off officially as of this week (why… yes I am in fact eating my own words about enjoying winter).

As it goes for any indie Canadian band, some people compare Hey Rosetta! to Arcade Fire. Perhaps the 55-million band members (just kidding, only six, this isn’t Broken Social Scene), the use of an assortment of instruments like the cello, violin, shakers… warrants the comparison– but I just didn’t hear it last night. They have a completely different sound, and it’s pretty wonderful. One of my favorite moments in the evening was humming the words to Wilco’s ‘Hummingbird’ with Hey Rosetta! and then feeling completely disoriented– hey this isn’t Wilco–but God forbid– it almost sounds better! I was looking forward to their performance of ‘A Thousand Suns’ and they pulled it off nicely. Although not as high energy as the Jezabels, the performance was quite lively and they really connected with everyone and had heads bobbing… or what kids call dancing these days.

On May 23rd, I arrived at the Beijing Capital International Airport (PEK) in early evening, around 7:30PM. The flight with EVA Air from Taipei to Beiing was absolutely fantastic compared to the flight with Cathay Pacific from Hong Kong to Taipei. I’ve never had so much leg room on any flight, specially on a short 3-hour flight.

Walking into the Terminal 3 of the airport, a giant brightly-lit futuristic complex with no one around, was intimidating at first sight. This terminal is massive. According to Wikipedia, in itself it’s larger than all of London Heathrow Airport’s five terminals combined, with 17% to spare. It’s divided into two sections, and when you arrive you immediately have to get on the inter-terminal people mover (train) to reach the main section of the terminal where incoming luggage and customs are located.

I followed the group of travelers from my plane along with a group of security/military outfit-clad youth who also entered the people mover. On the other side I picked up my luggage and headed towards the customs/border security, where my picture was taken and the guard kept staring intently back and forth at my face and my passport for several minutes. I felt like I was in China, at last.

I exchanged US dollars to Yuan at the airport, but was so eager to get to the hostel I’d reserved through hostelworld that I forgot to buy a SIM card for my cell phone. Bad move.

A lot of people opt to take taxis from the airport to the city. However, Beijing has an exceptional metro system that connects the airport directly to the inner-city metro. The Airport express express (¥25) took me straight from Terminal 3 to the Dongzhimen metro station. There I got on the metro (¥2) and headed to the Qianmen station. Unlike in Montreal, one thing to be careful in metro stations, both in Taiwan and China, is that the you need to save the entry ticket in order to be able to get out.

I arrived in central Beijing, at Qianmen station, around 10PM. I had a map in hand which outlined exactly which way to head. I needed to go into Qianmen Dajie/Street (前门大街). However, I quickly realized that the metro exit had led me to a square (Qianmen Square) from which there were streets eminating towards every direction.

I had no idea which way to go.

If you’re a solo traveler standing in center of a megalopolis at night, where you can’t speak the language and don’t know a single soul, those aren’t exactly words you want crossing your mind.

Pointing at my map and using broken signs, I tried to ask someone coming out of the metro if they could point me in the right direction. Before heading to China I was amply warned, by people of Chinese background, that people in Beijing would be cold and unhelpful. Proof in concept: the woman completely ignored me. Ouch. Cold-shouldered by my first Beijinger. I was not looking forward to the next two weeks.

I looked at the map really hard again and tried to position myself. As I’d learnt in my time in Taiwan, in Mandarin, ‘lu’ and ‘jie’ both mean ‘road’ or ‘street’. I looked across from the square, and there it was, ‘Qianmen’… perfect! I crossed the street and started heading into the street. I didn’t get very far before I was sufficiently creeped out though, telling myself this rather dark street dotted with construction sites couldn’t possibly be the same street I’d looked up on Google Streetview. Had it been day I’d know this was ‘Qianmen Donglu’ (the East road) and not Qianmen proper.

Walking anxiously back to the square, I found a policeman. There are tons of them there, actually. He couldn’t speaking English, but directed me towards a little kiosk on the other side of the road, beside the actual Qianmen Dajie. The giant gates and the shining lights tipped me off.

I went into the “tourist” kiosk just as they were closing. I showed the two guide girls inside the map to my hostel, which was in a street coming off Qianmen Dajie. The girls didn’t speak English, and tried to point me towards the direction of the place. I nodded… hesitantly. They could tell I was exhausted and confused. One girl pointed at me to wait as she closed the kiosk and said goodbye to her friends.

I assumed she was going to come outside the kiosk and show me the direction and leave. But she came beside me and motioned for me to follow her. I followed her down Qianmen, then we headed into the narrow long Dazhalan Xijie/West Street (大栅栏). In middle of the way she actually grabbed one side of my suitcase handle to help me out and before long we were standing in front of my hostel, the 365 Inn. Crisis averted. Though, it wouldn’t be the last time I’d rely in the kindness (and warmth) of Beijingers.

Closing the distance
A neurosurgeon uses technology to reduce disparities in medical care and education in remote areas
By Marzieh Ghiasi
Published on November 3, 2011
http://www.mcgilldaily.com/2011/11/closing-the-distance/

Image by Afra Saskia Tucker

“Two worlds, One spirit,” a collection of photography and sculpture by Ivar Mendez, the chairman of the Brain Repair Centre at Dalhousie University, was on display at Musée des Maîtres et Artisans du Québec. His black and white photographs capture the sharp boundary where dark, coniferous forests meet snow-covered mountain slopes in Northern Labrador. This landscape is marked not only by tremendous beauty, but also by human suffering.

Mendez, a trained neurosurgeon, explores humanity’s struggles through art, while seeking to alleviate it through medicine and technology. I sat down with Mendez prior to a discussion on his work on September 24, which was organized by former McGill professor, Dr. Norman Cornett.

In recent years, Mendez has made headlines by facilitating the adoption of remote-presence robots to provide specialist neurological consultation services in remote areas of Canada. Remote-presence robots allow physicians to operate in a clinic thousands of kilometers away, using a video game-like joystick to move a robot throughout. These robots can rotate 360 degrees, and have a monitor that shows a live-feed of the physician. In addition, they are equipped with high-resolution cameras and sound equipment, allowing for real time examination and interaction with patients. Despite the unusual experience of interacting with a robot, Mendez says that patients, family, and staff quickly adapt to this futuristic associate.

In Canada, as well as in Mendez’s native Bolivia, aboriginal populations – often located in remote areas – suffer disproportionately from lack of access to specialist care due to distance and climate. Mendez excitedly speaks about the potential to expand such services and take expertise to where it is needed most.

“To listen to the heartbeat of a baby in the mother’s womb thousands of kilometers away,“ Mendez said. “[to] determine which mothers are at risk.”

He views technologies such as remote-presence robot systems as a means of reducing disparity and providing equal access to medical care, even in remote areas such as the Canadian arctic. These communities, too, are quickly accepting and integrating technologies. Mendez describes a community in Northern Labrador that, after the province proved unwilling to purchase a remote-presence robot, came together to raise funds to do so independently.

Though he has helped found neurosurgical units Asia, Africa, and South America, Mendez’s interest in technology is not limited to the medical field. In another initiative, presently in its second year, children in Inuit communities in Northern Labrador are provided with laptops and put in touch with children from Nova Scotia and the Bolivian Andes.

“These kids can communicate with art, math, and music,” he said. “[This] instills in children the idea that, no matter who we are, our contributions have the same value.”

Mendez also emphasizes the importance of investing in cross-cultural exchanges. He described a school in the north of Canada where, for the first time, two students have entered 12th grade, and will be the first two high school graduates in several years. Communicating with graduating students in Nova Scotia via the laptops motivated these students to continue their education. In this way, the introduction of innovative technologies can provide services to people who lack access, and offer these communities a means for growth.

“The change will come from within,” Mendez said. “We can help provide the environment for the children to one day become the leaders of the future, and change their own communities.”

http://www.mcgilldaily.com/2011/10/indulging-in-insect-specialties/

Indulging in insect specialties
Introducing bugs as a nutritious and environmentally-friendly supplement to our menu
By Marzieh Ghiasi
Published on October 31, 2011

Image by Olivia Messer / The McGill Daily

Insects and creepy crawlies are common Halloween decorations here in North America, but, in 80 per cent of the world, insects are also a staple of the dinner plate.

According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), 1,500 edible insect species are eaten around the world. In Africa, Asia, and South America, insect dishes range from fried ants and candied grasshoppers to canned grubs and caterpillars. The eating of insects, however, is on the decline.

Robert Kok, an emeritus McGill professor in Bioresource Engineering, said, “A lot of people remember their grandparents consuming Mopani worms but don’t indulge themselves anymore.” He said. “There’s a very strong modern cultural bias against eating bugs.”

The adoption of insects as food may not only help to alleviate the ethical issues and health concerns associated with eating meat, but also to reduce the negative environmental impact of meat production, including pollution and land degradation.

“Insects are animals and their flesh has pretty well the same composition as the flesh of our more commonly-consumed food animals,” said Kok. “So, if you eat their meat you get pretty well the same nutrition as when you eat chicken,” he continued.

It has been projected that, by 2050, food production must increase by 70 per cent to meet the needs of the growing world population. Livestock, which is notoriously internally inefficient at converting plant feed to protein, is unlikely to meet these demands.

Researchers such as Arnold van Huis, an entomologist in the Netherlands at the Wageningen University and Research Centre, have shown that many insect species efficiently convert plant feed to edible protein. While cows require 10 kilograms of feed to produce one kilogram of protein, locusts only need two kilograms of feed to produce the same amount of protein. Moreover, it’s been shown that insects release between 10 to 300 times less greenhouse gases such as methane than livestock.

“[Insect] materials could be used as food chemicals to make industrial foods and feed for fish farming, chickens, biodegradable plastics, et cetera.” Kok said. He noted, however, that the conversion efficiencies, costs, and environmental impacts are not fully clear since there have not been industrial insect farms to produce food for humans yet.

Additionally, Kok believes that North Americans are unlikely to embrace insects anytime soon. Nonetheless, mass production and the use of insect parts in food chemicals such as chitin, oils, and protein presents an opportunity to introduce insects into our diets.

Though crickets are not on the shelves of grocery stores yet, you can get a taste of chocolate covered ants at the Montreal Insectarium. Additionally, local markets and internet sites have also begun to sell insects for human consumption. Daniella Martin, an advocate for entomophagy, hosts a web-based show called Girl Meets Bug (http://girlmeetsbug.com/). This show provides a host of recipes for those who would like to add “Fried Scorpions” and “Cabbages, Peas ‘n’ Crickets” to their menu.

“To me, edible insects represent a whole new culinary world to be explored, one which has the potential to be highly eco-friendly and maybe even help solve hunger problems,” Martin said. “Insects are historically and globally popular, easy to raise, very nutritious, and usually quite tasty. What’s not to like?”

Via Youtube (Yosemite Bears).

Via Youtube (Baby duck feed the Carp).

Two weeks ago Jack Layton, the leader of the New Democratic Party (NDP) of Canada, passed away after battling cancer. Although he came to Montreal quite often, I first had a chance to see him speak live only last November during Question Period in the House of Commons which I was attending as part of the McGill Women in House program.

I was absolutely taken by how he questioned with strength and resolve Canada’s involvement in Afghanistan, climate change accountability and the use of unelected senators by the government to kill a bill that passed had majority approval in the House. In a room filled with extraordinary men and women, Jack Layton stood out.

Following reports of his passing, I felt devastated that a person I’d come to respect so much… I was going to write back then, but the only words that I could write were ‘So sad… so very sad…” I couldn’t make sense of my own reaction, was this man not just a politician that I’d never even met? Yes I’d watched Layton speak time and time again after and was impressed by his views on how we can tackle the problems in society by empowering and mobilizing every citizen. Yes I was living in Québec at the time the NDP sweeped the election under Layton’s leadership, a feat considered impossible for a federalist party. But he was more than that.

By Andrew Vaughan / The Canadian Press

Mudslinging and negativity are a part of every election, and voters often stand by and watch as they would a carnival of idiots, wondering which party seems less like a trainwreck. But Layton did it another way. Where others wear promises of a better tomorrow on their sleeve, and forget everything as soon as they are elected, Layton rolled up his sleeves and stood with the youth, with the working-class, with the immigrants, with the veterans, with the elderly… He understood our concerns, he stood with us, he became our friend: Jack.

And it was for our friend, Jack, that public squares were covered with chalk-written memorials.

By Jackman Chiu

Two weeks ago I went to a vigil held in Montreal’s Mont Royal to remember Jack. I stood there alongside hundreds of people with candles in hand, under stony angels and a starry sky, singing songs from “Oh Canada…” to “This land is your land, this land is my land… from Bonavista, to Vancouver Island…” (yes, the Great North has its adapted version). Someone speaking at vigil said “Jack loved people.” He united them too. There people of all ages, of all backgrounds, of different political stripes cried and sang alongside each other, mourning and paying their respects to a great person in their own way.

[Show as slideshow]

He was a person with so much to do and so far to go– he could have changed the world– But as the days pass, I contemplate less and less what could have been, and instead focus on what could be– Jack’s last words to Canadians:

“Love is better than anger.
Hope is better than fear.
Optimism is better than despair.
So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic.
And we’ll change the world.”

Looking at these words up on my wall, I smile– remembering a man who has changed the world with a dream that will last longer than any lifetime.

By Garnotte / Le Devoir

via Youtube (Leopard and Monkey Baby).

Boston Globe’s Big Picture has posted some incredible, harrowing and heartbreaking photos from Japan in this past week. I admire the way photojournalists have been able to, in the wake of this tragedy, capture the fleeting, transient moments that make life and death.

Momoko Onodera prays at an evacuation center as she talks about her husband who died in the tsunami on March 18 in Kesennuma, Japan. A potential humanitarian crisis looms as nearly half a million people who have been displaced by the disaster continue to suffer a shortage of food and fuel as freezing weather conditions set in. (Paula Bronstein/Getty Images)

Today is the 142nd birthday of an amazing Canadian researcher and physician– Dr. Maude Abbott. It’s hard to sum up in a few words just how awesome this lady was. Briefly, she was orphaned as a child and was raised by her grandmother. After graduating high school, she joined one of the first groups of women to enroll and graduate from McGill. Although she was tremendously interested in pursuing medicine, she was not admitted to the McGill medical school which at the time was exclusive to men. So instead, she enrolled in Bishop’s where women were admitted, and later pursued her postgraduate studies in Europe.

When Abbott returned to Montreal, as I outline below, she was able to establish herself as an expert in congenital heart disease. For her work she was awarded an honourary medical degree from McGill and became a professor at the very institution that had some three decades earlier refused to consider her application on the basis of her gender. Being a woman researcher and physician, Abbott faced many challenges in a world where science and medicine were considered to be men’s territory. However, she overcame many of these barriers by the excellence in the quality of her work and her strong character, consequently paving the way for many more women to succeed.

The following is not an autobiographical sketch, but rather looks at a particular artifact of medicine that I had the pleasure of seeing at the McGill Medical Museum earlier this year and how it shaped Maude Abbott’s career.

The Holmes Heart
Rise of Pathological Anatomy in Canada

By Marzieh Ghiasi (Mar 2011)

athological anatomy, the study of altered or abnormal anatomy, is a field that in its early stages relied heavily on the collection and study of specimens. The ‘Holmes Heart’ is one of such specimens. Stored today at the McGill Medical Museum, it gave early modern physicians an understanding of the human body and its pathologies.
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