Saturday, October 24, 2009

"Bugs"

So, these are two experiments that we have been doing in class. They each only took two days to complete (compared to our 3 week sessions now). The first one is for washed and unwashed hands. So, I drew a line down the center of the petri dish, which is filled with a coating of tryptic soy agar. And I took a sterile swab and swabbed one side and labeled it "unwashed". Then, I washed my hands and the airdried them (we were allowed to choose any way to dry our hands that we wished. The object was not to see who got the cleanest petri dish, but to see the differences in the washing and drying methods). So, as I said, i airdried my hands. Walked all around the room, flapping my wet hands in the air and humming a tune from Chariots of Fire. As I walked, I looked around the room at my absorbed classmates. Everyone carefully and completely immersed in their own experiment. Each carefully reading through the guidelines ::the instructions say to wash for 2 minutes:: By golly, they were gonna wash for 2 minutes! ::the instructions say to be creative with the drying method:: I walked around looking at those who were washing their hands and I believe that that was the most focused I have ever seen anyone while washing their hands. Then they would pause...think....think...react....stop!...think...decide how to dry their hands. By this time, of course, their hands were already partially airdried and thus contaminated. Some re-washed their hands to decontaminate, and some just went on about their business. As I passed the tables of people who were working on other projects, we exchanged greetings and "best of luck"s. My hands finally dried and I swabbed them and swabbed the other side of the petri dish. It sat in an incubator for roughly 48 hours at 37 degrees Celsius. Finished product:









As you can see, even my "washed" side of the plate has some pretty intense air-born microbes! You can kind of read where I labeled "washed" in the second photograph. So, guys, the object of this experiment was to see just how "clean" your hands get when you are "air-drying" them. Obviously, you can see that when you wave your wet hands around in the air, they do not get really "clean".
My second experiment was to see who was "Typhoid Mary". If you have ever heard the story (I'm sure I've already told it to you...but if not, you can look it up = google is a simply WONDERFUL invention!), then you know who Typhoid Mary is. So we were all given these gloves to put on (one each) and they were all numbered. I picked up #3 and slipped it onto my hand. It was easy because the gloves were all Extra Large. Then we walked around the room and shook 5 or 6 other people's hands and wrote down who and in what order and then recorded their numbers in our journals. You see, one of the gloves was contaminated with the typhoid bug....and we were to determine WHO was the perpetrator! We could deduce who it was by comparing our petri dishes to all the others:
As you can clearly see, I was infected with the Typhoid! My side of the petri dish, compared to all others, was basically this same result. So it was quite clear to everyone that I had indeed infected everyone else with my Typhoid via ripple-effect. I shook 5 different hands, they, in turn, shook 5 hands, and those people shook 5 other hands. So all in all, I was able to infect almost the entire classroom. There was an exception of 3 people who were uninfected, and this was pure Providence intervening.

On the Grasshopper and Cricket
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury,--he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

John Keats

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Local Tennements

Yesterday at Centennial Park there was what was posted as a "Cultural Festival" and I got excited to go...and went! I was accompanied by Kalid who has traveled around the world and who's parents are of Colombian origin. As we walked up the pathway, there were booths lining our way filled with jewelry and other arts and crafts that were labeled to be from that particular country. We stopped at the tent labeled "Egypt" and looked at the papyrus scrolls that all looked the same. I hate to say that we were less than impressed. Well, to put it bluntly, we were downright disappointed! We exchanged perturbed glances but said nothing, and continued on - hoping that the center of this circle would hold a true experience. We entered the "Celebration of Cultures" area where they had different tents with people dressed in ethnic clothing and music of that region. It was an experience, to be sure! Lively people scurrying from tent to tent, and a stage in the center with people dancing the dances of their cultures! But too bad the Japan-tent had blond-haired blue-eyed chicks in red yukattas handing out fans made in china, and the Jamaican tent boasted nothing beyond a good beat from some really nice speakers and a Jamaican woman moving to the music at the door of the tent. Various groups were taking turns on the outskirts of the operation performing their traditional "song and dance" and we walked straight past that, too. We'd reached the end...."Is that everything?" Kalid asked in bewilderment. "I think it was. I think we saw everything..." I replied as we looked back at the colored canvas of the tents blowing in the wind.
We walked over to the steps of the Parthenon and popped down on them to chat about what we had just experienced. The view from this vantage point was spectacular - all of the tents and people happily drifting from tent to tent was an inviting view! It made me think that perhaps I was too judgemental about the whole affair. But then I remembered why I felt repulsed while in the middle of it all. I do not like "window-shopping" through cultures. I do not believe in it and it grates on me like an annoying poke that keeps on poking and never stops. I want to feel and taste and smell and experience "culture" - immerse myself in it! Perhaps it would have been more appealing if they had each country in its own area instead of having a "food area" with many different food stuffs, and then another one for "jewelry" and then another one for performance arts and other crafts. If they had an area for Iran and had the food, clothing, art, and music in that area, and then another one for Mexico, and another one for Jamaica, and Japan. Where you could go in and hear the language, eat the food, and have THAT experience in THAT area. We both felt the same way. Obviously we were both looking for something more substantial - something to "give us pause". Contented in our debrief of our recent festival experience, we turned our attention to the open road once again...