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.”