Our recent trip to Tunisia was not an outstanding success for us. True there was a small but pleasant group of people and as a quick all round insight into Tunisian life, the trip was quite satisfactory but the guide, not being an archaeologist, was not knowledgeable about Tunisian history especially the Roman/Phoenician sites.

We left Tunis early in the morning and headed south to Testour a small settlement founded by Muslims fleeing Spain after the reconquest (La Reconquista) of the country by the Catholic Kings. It is famous for its blue doors which give a festive air to an otherwise impoverished and dust filled little town.

We next rollicked along in our tiny bus to the hilltop site of Dougga. Its size, its well-preserved monuments and its rich Numidian-Berber, Punic, ancient Roman and Byzantine heritage make it exceptional. Dougga was an important rallying point for various tribal kings who allied with Rome against the Carthaginians and it became a strategic centre too for the Romans who spared this town after sacking Carthage in 146 BC. It was annexed to Rome by Caesar in 46 and as a Roman town it grew prosperous but from the third century onwards, with the fall of Rome, Dougga started to decline. It was abandoned and deserted with the Vandal invasion, and since then there has only been a small village on the other side of the hills. This probably explains why it is so rich in monuments: it wasn’t near enough to other settlements for its stones and masonry to be re-used.

We stayed the night at the small town of El Kef known for its Kasbah which the French reconstructed and used as a military barracks during their colonial days. It is an important holy site for Sufi Muslims and has a shrine to a well known Sufi Saint – Sidi Bou Makhlouf. The guide forgot to mention that the Algerians used it as a command centre during the Algerian War of Independence in the 1950’s and it was also the provisional capital of Tunisia during World War Two.

Later, we drove on to Makthar to visit the ruins of this extremely ancient pre-Roman fortress which the Numidians used to control the comings and goings of the nomads (mainly Berbers, the original inhabitants of Tunisia). It became even more important after Caesar annexed it in 46BC but suffered the same fate as Dougga under the Vandals and was abandoned in the 11th Century. There were enough remaining ruins for us to get a picture of how idyllic these places were for retired Roman soldiers and well-off colonisers.

After lunch, our destination was Kairouan, the spiritual capital of Tunisia and foremost holy town of North Africa for Sunni Muslims after Mecca, Medina and Jerusalem. It was the first city to convert to Islam and was called the city of 300 mosques. 120,000 pilgrims come here each year.

We stayed the night in Sufetula (Sbeitla) and explored the Roman remains of this superb site the next day. This region was populated in 67-68 AD after various conquests of local tribes under the emperor Vespasian – he who invented the famous ‘pissoir’ still called in French ‘la Vespasienne’, a malodorous example of which existed in my local Lisieux Farmers’ Market for many years next to the Fish Market where it was relatively undetectable. Most remarkable of the few constructions still standing were the three temples dedicated to Juno, Jupiter and Minerva – a Roman equivalent of the three tenors perhaps, for they each have a temple here instead of sharing one huge one as in most Roman sites.

Obviously, the inhabitants were richer and more thankful for their good life which depended on the trade in olives and olive oil, attested to by the Roman grinding stones so similar to our apple grinding stones (pressoirs en granit). Life here was obviously prosperous, peaceful and harmonious, attested to by the existence of seven Christian churches, a baptismal font and a ‘pleasure dome’ in the form of a well-advertised brothel.

More interesting for British tourists was the plaque over one of the town gates dedicated to Antoninus Pius and his two adopted sons, Lucius Verus and Marcus Aurelius. It was Antoninus who built the Antonine Wall across the north of Britain above Hadrian’s Wall when the invading horde of Picts came down like a wolf from the fold. The Vandals did the same to Sbeitla but occupied the town until the Byzantines re-took it then it was sacked by the Arabs in 647 and fell into oblivion.

The afternoon was dedicated to Tozeur, one of the most famous oases in the world on the fringe of the desert surrounded by 7000 acres of date palms and other astounding greenery.

Decoratively built of narrow white bricks, hand crafted in local brickworks which sit in a lunar landscape, Tozeur mainly caters to desert trekking groups and this is where we met the desert fox, as we set forth on our camels like Omar Sharif in Lawrence of Arabia.

 Photo Credits

All Photos By Julia McLean – All Rights Reserved

The Desert Fox – Part One is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Kids the world over should get down on their knees and give thanks to Dr. Frederick Tisdall, former director of the nutritional research laboratories for Toronto’s Hospital for Sick Children. Thanks to his introduction of vitamin D supplementation in flour and milk in the 1930’s, children no longer have to choke down daily drams of putrid tasting cod liver oil to get their allotment of the “sunshine vitamin.”

Tisdall along with two other pediatricians, Dr. Alan Brown and Dr. Theodore Drake are more famous, however, as the inventors of pablum, a scientifically designed and nutritious cereal created in the 1930’s to provide for the nutritional needs of infants. Prior to this many small children died of diseases such as rickets – directly related to nutrient deficiencies – and of others such as tuberculosis and diphtheria to which they were more susceptible due to poor nutrition.

An earlier attempt at producing a nutritional alternative food for children resulted in Sunwheat biscuits, nutrient loaded cookies concocted from a combination of alfalfa, wheat meal, oatmeal and corn meal, wheat germ, yeast, bone meal and honey for sweetening. These proved to be best sellers, not only improving the nutritional health of thousands of children but also adding much needed royalties to the coffers of the Hospital for Sick Children. Unfortunately the Sunwheat biscuit could not be ingested by small infants and another supplement was required to fill this gap.

Pablum, which derives its name from the Latin pabulum or food, first became available in Canada in 1931. Pablum was made from alfalfa, yeast, wheat germ, corn, oats, bone meal and yeast and contained massive amounts of vitamins A, B2, B2, D and E. In order to overcome the problem of perishability the product was sprayed onto heated, rotating drums and the dried residue was scraped off to make easily reconstitutable flakes which would form a mushy foodstuff that could easily be consumed by small babies. Evidently, the kids loved it – though the fact that adults found the product so insipid provided a nice synonym for the words tasteless and bland.

More royalties rolled in, allowing the founding of the Hospital for Sick Children Research Foundation. This meant that pablum supported not only the physical health of its diminutive consumers but the fiscal health of an institution specifically designed to care for the little ones.

As such it is another example of a much under-heralded success story in Canada’s continuing medical saga.

Photo Credit:

“Pablum: Get it while it’s luke warm”  CriticalMass 

“Pablum 1930″ SickKids

Pablum and the History of Children’s Health is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

In 1938, Canadian Physicist, Dr. Eli FranklinBurton, made a big discovery when he really only wanted to look at something tiny.

Most people set out to accomplish ‘big’ things in their lives. Canadian physicist Dr. Eli Franklin Burton was not one of these people.  A former director of the physics department at the University of Toronto and the inventor of the first practical electron microscope, his discovery was instead designed to demystify the tiniest of objects. Developed with assistance from graduate students James Hillier and Albert Prebus, Burton first tested his invention in 1938 on a keen razor blade, which proved to be as craggy and pock marked as the surface of the moon when viewed with sufficient magnification.

Scientists had found the light microscope limited in its ability to magnify objects by the wave lengths of visible light. Beyond a certain point, resolution would be lost and objects became blurry. Not so with electrons which produced wave lengths about 100,000 tinier than the photons of visible light, allowing for magnifications of up to 2 million times or about a thousand times the resolution of the best optical microscopes.

Rather than the traditional glass lenses of the light microscope, the electron microscope uses electromagnetic and electrostatic fields to focus electrons shot from a high voltage electron gun with which to produce an image.  This revolutionary device opened up a whole new world to scientists who could now see viruses which caused diseases such as polio and smallpox, as well as observe minute cellular processes and the chromosomes and DNA which make up the genome of humans and other living creatures. In addition, the electron microscope proved to have many industrial applications, for example in fiber, plastics and textiles manufacturing and the examination of metallic and crystalline structures.

Besides the original Transmission Electron Microscope (TEM), other variations of the device were developed including the Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM), the Reflection Electron Microscope (REM), the Scanning Transmission Electron Microscope (STEM) and the Low Voltage Electron Microscope (LVEM). Each has its own advantages and disadvantages.

Though Burton will remain most famous for his electron microscope he made other contributions to various fields of science. He studied colloids (particulate suspensions of which Jello (R) is a familiar example) early in his career at Cambridge University in England. He also did research in the early 30′s, tracking down and liquefying helium.

During World War II Burton trained radar operators for the war effort and also became a director of Research Enterprises Ltd., an Ontario firm which manufactured radar sets and other electronics for the military.  He was an entertaining speaker who shared his knowledge with great gusto, and came to be in demand as a speaker at prestigious universities and medical centers the world over. Burton was a sort of latter day ‘science guy’ with an uncanny ability to simplify complex scientific subjects.

He received the Order of the British Empire in 1943 for his contributions and the new physics wing of the University of Toronto was also named for him to honor his contributions. He also became a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada and recipient of the Henry Marshall Tory Medal in 1947. Burton passed away in 1948 at the age of 69.

Further Reading:

Canadian Scientists and Inventors

The Canadian Encyclopedia

Photo Credits:

Wikipedia:  Electron Microscope

Dr. Eli Franklin Burton And The Electron Microscope is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Though most Canadians have heard of Thomas Edison few are familiar with Canada’s own Thomas Edison, design engineer George J. Klein.

Born in Hamilton, Ontario in 1904, Klein could count to his credit such inventions as the first electric wheelchair, the first micro-surgical staple gun, Canada’s first nuclear reactor, the ZEEP, a pre-cursor to the internationally famed CANDU reactor, the Weasel all-terrain vehicle, the STEM antenna, crucial to the American space program, and the Canadarm device used in the space shuttle for remote manipulation. He was even summoned out of retirement at the age of 72 to work on the latter device due to his incomparable knowledge of gears.

Klein was indisputably the most prolific Canadian inventor of the twentieth century. He graduated from the University of Toronto with a Bachelors Degree in Applied Science in 1928, but never did a postgraduate degree.

While working with the National Research Council in the 1950′s he developed the first practical electric wheelchair for veterans of the Second World War. Few spinal cord injured soldiers of World War I survived, but due to medical advances 90% of those so-injured in World War II did survive, hence the need for a device which would enhance their mobility and independence.

Klein donated his prototype electric wheelchair to the United States as a gesture of good will in 1955, but it was repatriated exactly 50 years later and now rests in the Canadian Science and Technology Museum in Ottawa. The device proved a godsend for paraplegics, quadriplegics and other whose injuries would formerly have kept them confined to beds or dependent on others for transportation. The joystick control which Klein also invented is still seen in common use today.

Klein’s micro-surgical staple gun was the first to successfully suture blood vessels. Outside of the medical field his STEM (storable tubular extendible member) used in the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo programs effectively allowed compact antennas to be extended to up to 40 meters in length. His Weasel tracked ATV was used by the U.S. military in venues as different as the Arctic and the tropics.

The Canadarm has been used since 1981 aboard the space shuttle for such diverse tasks as repairs to the Hubble Telescope, launching new satellites and retrieving old ones. An updated version of the Canadarm was used on the International Space Station for numerous tasks.

In his spare time Klein played violin for the Ottawa and Hamilton symphony orchestras. He was also an expert woodworker.

A true polymath, Dr. Klein was initiated as an Officer of the Order of Canada in 1968 and was also a member of the Order of the British Empire. He died in 1992 at the age of 88 and was posthumously named to the Canadian Science and Engineering Hall of Fame in 1995.

What was the motivation that drove Klein to such heights of creativity and inventiveness?

In his own words: “It was wonderful to have been at the lab because it was fun. Serious fun.”

Additional Reading:

George Johann Klein – From hivemind.net

Canada Science And Technology Museum

National Research Council Canada

Photo Credits

George J. Klein – Public Domain From ookaboo.com

Canadarm – Public Domain From Wikipedia

George J. Klein, Canada’s Own Thomas Edison is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Charlottetown, P.E.I. – the historic Canadian city where a nation was born, where politicians became drinking buddies, and where you can now enjoy ice cream, funnel cake, great shopping and a wonderful arts culture.

On a recent tour of Province House in Charlottetown, P.E.I. I discovered the secret of Canadian Confederation. In time honoured political tradition John A. Macdonald, George-Etienne Cartier and representatives from various parts of Canada arrived in Charlottetown on September 1, 1864 aboard the S.S. Victoria. Since the Olympic Circus was in town almost all government functionaries, dock workers etc.were congregated at the Big Top with the sole exception of politician William Henry Pope, who had to row out himself to greet the functionaries. What followed was the Charlottetown Conference an eight day, somewhat drunken round of balls, private drinking sessions and general male bonding between erstwhile strangers. This resulted in no written documents, but most importantly the Fathers of Confederation became “drinking buddies,” an unofficial but profoundly important part of our national political apparatus to this day. On a somewhat shaky handshake our nation was born.

Exactly 147 years after the original Charlottetown Conference ended, I found myself ensconced in the Holman Grand Hotel, a new boutique inn just across the street from Province House. While the funky decor and comfy rooms were a far cry from Victorian era P.E.I., I was right on the door-step of Canada’s place of birth. Charlottetown, a little gem of a town with a population of about 30,000 nevertheless supports a vibrant arts community. Cheek-by-jowl with province house is the Confederation Centre of the Arts covering a city block, which formerly was the site of the city market. It comprises several theatres, an art gallery as well as a restaurant and gift shop.

For the non-culture vultures, just across the street is the COWS ice cream shop – recently voted by Tauck Tour Reviews as serving the world’s best ice cream.

Charlottetown’s Georgian heritage is clearly visible in its architecture, place names and perhaps most of all in its name, called after Queen Charlotte, George the Third’s beloved wife. Not far from the city centre is Victoria Park and adjacent the elegant colonnaded mansion of the province’s Lieutenant Governor, the Queens representative for Prince Edward Island. Visitors are free to wander the mansion’s elegant gardens but please don’t knock on the Lt. Governor’s door unless you have an invitation!

Be sure to take a walk down to Peake’s Quay and its waterfront stores. After you’ve had your fill of shopping try the funnel cake and/or the handcut fries at Taters. Or you can treat yourself to a decadent and reasonably priced facial or massage at Pure Spa, also on the water front, just down from Founders Hall. Founders Hall houses an extensive tourism bureau where visitors can familiarize themselves with the island’s attractions or book tours. It also has an interesting exhibition on P.E.I.’s history.

Even getting to Prince Edward Island is an adventure. You can still take the ferry from Nova Scotia, but more recently with the completion of the Confederation Bridge, you can drive all the way. The largest such span ever built in ice-covered waters, it is an engineering feat designed to deflect huge masses of winter ice with no structural damage. Eight miles in length it was opened to traffic in 1997 after much controversy and a plebiscite which saw 59.4% in favor of the link.

For further information on Charlottetown and Prince Edward Island go to:

Tourism Prince Edward Island 
City of Charlottetown 
Tourism Charlottetown 

Photo Credits

 © George Burden.  All rights reserved.

Charlottetown Sojourn is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Julia McLean writes about a cheese – the soft, smooth texture and the rich, creamy taste.  Camembert, the history, the legend and a bit of advice on how to enjoy it.

The countryside is full of legends – the best one in Normandy was always ‘Queen Mathilda’s Tapestry’ which is, of course, the Bayeux Tapestry. Legend had it that it was woven by Queen Mathilda when her husband was away conquering the known world. It made the tapestry hard to locate for those of us who called it the Bayeux Tapestry because our enquiries would produce a Gallic shrug of non-comprehension.

Equally difficult to find 20 years ago was the village of Camembert because there were no road signs. In those days there were only two houses there and a church – very discreet. However, in Vimoutiers, the local market town there is a statue to Marie Harel, the farmer’s wife who ‘invented’ Camembert cheese. People say the production method was given her by a priest who came from Brie.

For most soft paste cheeses the method is the same. The milk, warm from the cow and unpasteurised (only unpasteurised milk -lait cru- is allowed in AOC cheese ) is mixed with the requisite quantity of rennet and is stirred and left to coagulate. In older farmhouses, the micro-organisms needed to start the cheese were often present on the lime-washed walls of the cellars which would be on different levels. These were divided into a series of small temperature controlled rooms (caves a affinage) into which the cheeses were transferred at the differing stages of the production. Nowadays the cheese is made by inoculating warmed milk with mesophilic bacteria (same micro-organisms as for beer – they live at blood temperature).

Once the curd has set, it is roughly chopped, sprinkled with salt and ladled into Camembert moulds (marked on the label as ‘moulé à la louche’) then the moulds are turned every six to twelve hours to allow the whey to drain away evenly. After two days, each mould contains a flat, cylindrical, solid cheese mass weighing approximately 350 grams (about 12 oz).
The cheeses were left on tightly packed wooden shelves for three weeks to ripen and acquire the distinctive rind and creamy interior texture characteristic of the cheese. The rind of the cheese was always a matter of chance and it was often blue-grey with brown spots. The farmers would often wash and salt the cheese but nowadays the cheese is sprayed with a penicillin fungus which keeps it pure white. The cheese is finally wrapped in waxed paper and placed into its distinctive little wooden box for transport and sale.

The village of Camembert is now clearly signposted and actually has a Camembert Museum and shop where you can do little tastings. Unfortunately, it closes between 12 and 2pm and there is no eatery really close. If it is a fine day, come armed with a bottle of red wine and a ‘crusty baguette’, buy your Camembert and have your little feast under the trees.  Camembert is still very popular and now is often served hot as a dip. My potter friend sells huge quantities of little Camembert sized ramekins especially for the purpose.

Try some of these recipes.

MELTED CAMEMBERT WITH GARLIC DIPS
Place a whole Camembert in a ramekin to fit, in a medium hot oven for 10-20 minutes.
While it is heating through, prepare some garlic toast with really crusty bread cut into strips
When the cheese is bubbling remove the top lid with a sharp knife.
Serve immediately with a green salad and the garlic bread dips.

CHEESE PURSES WITH CHUTNEY
Cut prepared puff pastry into rounds the size of Canadian pancakes and place on baking tray.
Cut the Camembert into small triangles.
Place one on your pastry leaving space around the edge.
Brush the edge with beaten egg and cover with another round of pastry.
Put the baking tray in the fridge for 30 minutes while you prepare a chutney.
CHUTNEY
Peel and cut up two medium Granny apples into small chunks and place in a saucepan with a handful of fresh cranberries, three or four dried apricots in chunks and a handful of dates stoned and chopped, and a medium onion chopped small. Cover with wine vinegar. Heat up and when on the boil, stir in 300grams (8 ozs) brown sugar, spices to taste (ginger/chilli/cloves/cinnamon) and keep stirring until the mixture becomes jam-like (30-40 mins). When cool, add some chopped walnuts.

Pop the cheese purses into a hot oven (200C/Gas Mark 5) and bake for 10-15 minutes.
Serve the purses immediately with the chutney and a green salad.  You can serve Camembert hot on Canadian pancakes or inside crepes (French pancakes) or wrap it in filo pastry. These recipes make a very good brunch although my husband’s favourite is a sandwich made of good crunchy ‘baguette’ (those thin French sticks), lavishly slathered with salted butter, packed with thinly sliced red onions and creamy slivers of just runny Camembert and munched contentedly

Photo Credit

“Camembert”  Flickr Creative Commons.  ©All rights reserved by friendlydrag0n

Camembert: A Legend is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Some years after the experiences which created the story See The Light, NakSanSa Temple was destroyed by fire.

An inferno in 2005, which began in the pine forest surrounding the temple, was so intense that the bronze temple bell, which I had been privileged to sound, a national treasure which dated back to the 15th Century, was melted.

It wasn’t the first time NakSanSa had been destroyed.

The temple had previously been razed by fire in the 13th Century by the Mongolian hordes. From 1392, during the Joseon Dynasty, the temple was reconstructed. It was expanded by royal order in 1467, 1469, 1631 and 1643.

It was again burnt down in the 1950-53 Korean War.

Since the fire of 2005, NakSanSa Temple has again been rebuilt.

The consecutive painstaking rebuilding of the temple is a testament to the dedication of the Korean people and successive national and provincial governments.

No nails are used in the traditional wooden construction of Buddhist temples in South Korea.

The present-day temple museum displays a wooden violin and cello built from structural wood that survived the fire.

NakSanSa Temple is as perennial as Buddhism itself.

Photo Credits

All Images Courtesy Of Wikipedia

Built On Faith is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Gonging a giant bronze bell at 3 o’clock in the morning isn’t everybody’s idea of a must-do holiday experience, but if you are staying in a South Korean temple, it’s part of the job description.

Patience is also a required skill when taking tea with a Buddhist monk. There is far more involved than a spoon for each person and one for the pot.

It may not be everybody’s cup of tea, but for those who seek to be enlightened on the daily rituals of Buddhist monks and nuns, who strive for the harmony of Yin and Yang, a temple is the place to “Yang” out.

Temple stays in South Korea are experienced by thousands of tourists and students annually, eager to learn more about the history of Korean Buddhism, which spans more than 1600 years.

It is a fascinating window on religious life.

From early morning chanting to the dignified tea ceremony, the reverential approach to eating and the humble evening meal, a monk’s life is far more than robes and meditation.

In South Korea, religion is a living history.

There are around 800 monasteries, with histories dating back centuries, which combined represent a treasure trove of sweeping, tile-roofed temples, halls, shrines, classic oriental gardens, paintings, literature, music, myth, food and tea, all celebrating the life of Buddha.

The monk SeolUng wrote: “The voice of the waves and the wind bell . . . and then the smell of pine needle, joins together. There is a generous spirit of the Saint Buddha in NakSanSa.”

Standing at the clifftop UiSangDae Pavilion, looking out to sea as the first rays of light bled over the rocky coastline to illuminate the layered roofs of NakSanSa Temple on South Korea’s northeast coast, it was impossible to disagree.

On a nearby hill, the benevolent eyes of a 16m-high stone Buddha, the largest of its kind in the orient, stare pensively out to sea. The air was warm and resin-scented, the still pines and gardens the epitome of peace on the 5am sunrise walk down the mountainside from the temple to the pavilion.

A flock of ducks, black against the rising light, flew across the red bruise of the sunrise as the grey wisps of cloud on the horizon glowed golden, then blood red, as the sun rose over the Sea of Japan.

The sunrise was a fitting reward for the strict 9pm curfew of the night before, following a welcome to temple life by our host, the Buddhist nun BupGwang. Before bed there was a visit to the bell pavilion, set amid carefully tended temple gardens alive with the buzz of cicadas.

The pavilion houses the four instruments used to pay homage and regulate temple life. The Dharma drum, covered on opposite sides with the hide of a bull and a cow to symbolise the harmony of Yin and Yang, represents earth-bound beings.

The brightly coloured wooden fish represents water creatures and the cloud-shaped gong, airborne creatures. The massive bronze bell, rung 28 times every morning and 33 times in the evening, is said to sound like the voice of Buddha, with its deep-throated boom giving relief to tormented beings in hell.

A monk beat the drum and then visitors took turns at gonging the bell, its heavy reverberations setting eardrums humming as it vibrated the air around us.

Visitors could also ring the bell at 3am. Some took up the offer, while others slept until 5am, then woke for the sunrise walk. A stroll through the grounds before bed revealed a shrine where monks prayed before a golden Buddha.

Clouds of incense and candle smoke wafted in the humid air, blending with the monks’ monotonous chanting as they made their 108 prostrations to the divine one.

The next morning, while being instructed by the nun BupGwang in the basics of Zen meditation, it became even more painfully obvious that Buddhism is physically demanding.

After fifteen minutes of focused meditation sitting in an attempted lotus position that looked something like a snapped pretzel, the leg joints were creaking and the muscles aching. BupGwang smiled inscrutably as she admitted to meditating for 10 hours at a sitting.

NakSanSa was first built in 677, during the Silla Dynasty (57BC-AD935).

Buddhist clergy live a life of humble devotion, following a demanding and sometimes lonely discipline epitomized by the formalities of the meal ceremony. Greed is abhorrent – food is looked upon as merely the fuel to drive the body to support the discipline of faith.

The food ritual, Balwoo Gongyang, means eating only that which is required, wasting nothing, not even the water used to clean the bowls, or Balwoo.

A simple meal of rice, kimchi (pickled vegetable), a thin soup and seaweed, becomes a study in the appreciation of the fundamentals of life as each is served into three bowls, with a fourth bowl filled with a measure of water.

Sitting cross-legged and straight-backed, there is no talking, a piece of kimchi or radish is kept at the side of the rice bowl to use to wipe out the bowls at the end of the meal.

The water, which should remain clean throughout the meal, is used to clean the bowls, and then drunk. While the meal ceremony honours simple food, the Korean Da-do, or tea ceremony, is about enjoying life’s subtleties.

The aim is to taste the tea not with the mouth but with the mind. Tea is one of the six offerings to Buddha, along with incense, flowers, lanterns, fruit and rice. It is brewed and drunk three times, with the ritual designed to bring out five distinct flavours – the tongue first tastes bitterness, followed by astringence, sourness, saltiness and sweetness.

During the tea ceremony, the nun BupGwang relaxed from her duties to smile and laugh as the foreigners juggled cups, lids and teapot in an attempt to serve the brew just right. Dressed in grey robes and with shaven head, it was hard to ascertain her age.

On an assurance from the interpreter that “she is not a normal person, so it doesn’t matter”, I asked the question every woman dreads: Excuse me, but how old are you?

She said she would answer later, but never did.

A Gallery Of Beautiful Image By Vincent Ross

  Photo Credits

All photos © Vincent Ross. All Rights Reserved.

See The Light is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

Before 1902, medical education in North America was in disarray and medical students were known more for ignorance, carousing and rowdiness than for compassion or competence. Then along came a society that changed everything.

It’s felt to be the single most important criterion for a successful medical residency application at universities across North America. I am referring to membership in the Alpha Omega Alpha Honor Medical Society. Alpha Omega Alpha (AOA) celebrates its 109th anniversary this year and yet some medical students and physicians still seem to be unaware of its history and significance.  What is AOA and what is its relevance to the medical profession?

Abraham Flexner, circa. 1895

The story goes back to 1902 when medical education in North America was in disarray and medical students were known more for ignorance, carousing and rowdiness than for compassion or competence in caring for the sick.  Many so-called medical schools were nothing more than diploma mills housed in substandard facilities offering little if any clinical experience to students.  Not until 1910 did Abraham Flexner’s milestone report on Canadian and American medical schools bring this sorry situation to public light.

It was in this environment that William Webster Root and five other medical students at Chicago’s College of Physicians and Surgeons founded the first chapter of Alpha Omega Alpha. Rather than being an elitist organization as some modern detractors have claimed, AOA was established to help bring an element of professionalism and skill back to the medical profession of the day, at a time when these characteristics were sadly lacking.

AOA’s stated raison d’etre was “to recognize and perpetuate excellence in the medical profession.”  Its motto became “Worthy to serve the suffering.”  In Greek the key words of this phrase begin with the letters alpha, omega and alpha, hence the origin of the society’s name.  The society has its own key, shaped like the manubrium sterni and engraved with aforementioned Greek letters.

Members are chosen from students, residents, alumni and faculty or membership can be offered on an honourary basis to anyone with distinguished achievements in a field related to medicine.  The Dalhousie chapter for example recently made former Nova Scotia premier, Dr. John Hamm an honorary member of our society after he spoke at our annual banquet. Chapters elect student members from the last two years of medical school. This is based not only on academic excellence, but also on characteristics such as leadership and compassion.  The number elected may not exceed one-sixth of the students in a given class and each year up to three house staff, two alumni and two faculty members are also added to the chapter’s roster.

The annual banquet at Dalhousie serves to welcome new members of the organization as well as providing a forum for interesting speakers.  Past keynote speakers have included astronaut Bob Thirsk and Nova Scotia’s Chief Medical Examiner Dr. John Butt, who shared his experiences handling the Swissair flight 111 disaster.  Monthly meetings are also held featuring presentations by student and physician members dealing with a wide variety of fascinating topics gleaned from personal experience and research.

AΩA's founders, clockwise from left: William Webster Root, Milton Weston Hall, John Eddy Haskell, George Herbert Howard, Ernest Sisson Moore, Wenzel Matthias Wochos, Charles Lafayette Williams, Benjamin Thomas, and William H. Moore.

As stated in the society’s constitution: “Alpha Omega Alpha is organized for educational purposes exclusively and not for profit, and its aims shall be the promotion of scholarship and research in medical schools, the encouragement of a high standard of character and conduct among medical students and graduates, and the recognition of high attainment in medical science, practice, and related fields.”

To this end, AOA sponsors visiting professorships yearly, as well as providing student research fellowships – open to any student at a university with an active chapter – student essay awards with a top prize of $2000 (US) and student service awards.  Alpha Omega Alpha has its own journal, The Pharos, which is published quarterly and features non-technical papers covering topics of historical, philosophic and current interest to physicians.  The in-depth film reviews are one of my favorites. Winners of the student essay competition are also featured in Pharos.

At present, AOA has more than a hundred chapters in the United States, Lebanon, Puerto Rico and Canada.  Active branches in Canada include Dalhousie University and the University of Alberta, both founded in 1958, and the venerable University of Toronto chapter dating back to 1906.  Across the world and a century after its foundation Alpha Omega Alpha continues to foster the humanistic and idealistic aspects of medicine to all members of the profession.

Those wishing more information should go to www.alphaomegaalpha.org
Suite 130, Menlo Park, California 94025

Photo Credit

Abraham Flexner.  Wikipedia 

AOA’s Founders.  Alpha Omega Alpha Honor Medical Society
This article first appeared in The Medical Post in 2002.

“Worthy to Serve the Suffering”: From Alpha To Omega And Back is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN

What do an 93-year-old man and 5-year-old boy have in common?  Their love of early 20th century wooden school desks.

Corbin: School is not quite what I imagined it would be.
Me: Can you give me an example?
Corbin: Well, I thought there would be small individual wooden desks with ink wells.
Me: Have you been watching ‘little House on the Prairie’ on UTube?
Corbin: No. I just thought that’s what it would be.

We have now not just survived, but sailed through the first two weeks of full-day kindergarten.  It is easy to get him out the door and he does not want – thank you very much – to be walked to the playground.  He saunters off, backpack dangling awkwardly as he makes his way along with many other small turtles who are full of promise, ambition and enthusiasm.  I am content as I soak up the moment knowing that the day will come when he won’t want to go to school.  ”He looks so small,” my husband says.  If he were a girl, my husband would have teared up.  But, that’s not my guy’s style.

We are celebrating Corbin’s new beginnings along with his brother’s.  Hamish is having a hard time adjusting to his big brother’s absence at daycare, but has commenced his own pre-school program and is brining home shapes and delightful hand print works of art.  And so, on this glorious pre-fall, end of summer day we are heading to Heritage Acres, where we will rejoice in a celebration of steam.  I’m pumped.  Truthfully, though, I am excited.  My Dad belongs to the Vancouver Island Model Engineers and we will ride the trains, eat some corn that has been boiled through the power of steam, and take a ‘nature walk,’ as my son calls it, through the woods.

In two weeks we will have Hamish’s 3rd birthday party here and so I’ve decided to check out the school-house, where we will eat cake and drink libations for the under six set.  After checking out the party room, we walk through to look at some of the exhibits of artifacts hanging throughout the building.  The room next to the party room is a class room.  Corbin walks in and smiles.  He has found his desks with inkwells.  It is not the classroom that Corbin has come to know, with its myriad of toys in primary coloured plastic bins, central heating, tables (not desks), and cozy carpet for story time.  It is the classroom of my son’s imagination.  It is a recreation of the original school-house, which stood in Central Saanich in the early days of the nineteenth century and held kids of more than one grade level.  

Norman Gillan is sitting off to the side of the room in a chair surveying the one room school-house that he attended 85 years ago.  He is alone, quiet and pensive, almost blending in to cork board and black boards behind him.   I turn to him to say hello. He tells me that his little sister who was three and his brother who was four were too young for school, but that they were sent there to keep the class list large enough so that Saanichton School would not be closed.  He tells me that this was his school, that he grew up in Saanich and although he now lives just outside Vancouver, he took a road trip over for the day just to visit the place where he learned to read 85 years ago.  

The school, was built by Thomas Tubman in 1912-1913 and it operated as a public school until the 1970s.  It was originally located on Mt. Newton Cross Road on Vancouver Island in British Columbia.  The two acres were sold to the trustees of Saanich School District with the deed of the land being signed on May 6th, 1914 by Charles Gillan, Norman’s father, who owned the land.  The selling price was $1200.  The school continued to accept enrolment until it was closed in 1975.  In 1980, a grant from Heritage Trust of $17,000 funded the move from its original home to Heritage Acres, where it could be cared for and experienced by the public on the land belonging to the Saanich Historical Artifacts Society.  Thanks to generous donations amounting to $40,000, corporate and service club donations and many hours of volunteer labour, the school-house was restored in 1998.  One room has been recreated to show what the classrooms looked like while the other is used for meetings, events and birthday parties.

“I’m 93 years old, but I still like to come back. I drive myself, you know.  I just bought a new Toyota Matrix.”  Norman told me that he and his sister donated towards the restoration of the school-house.  ”They told me that we donated the most money and put our names on a plaque.”  While I can see that he is proud of this fact, I can also see that it is not the status of being a major donor on this project that pleases him.  He returns regularly just to sit in the room and remember.  

He was a truck driver throughout his life not a high-powered executive or doctor and yet he still feels connected to the place that gave him the foundation of his education.  Of course, I wanted to sit down and ask him so many questions.  But, I had two rugrats running around my ankles needing open space to dispel energy and so I simply thanked him for all he had done and told him the story of my son’s disappointment at not having wooden desks with inkwells in his class room.  I introduced him to my boys, told him that Corbin just started school last week and watched my son’s face as he digested the idea that this man who sat before him attended this very school with his brothers and sisters and friends 85 years ago.  Corbin told him that he liked the wooden desks and Norman said, “yes, me too.”  

 I lost my grandfather almost two years ago.  I still miss him dearly and whenever I meet and engage elderly people I feel a tug at my heartstrings.  I immediately want to adopt them.  I miss the comfortable silence of their company and I miss the stories.  It was hard to leave Norman. I’m a historian and am constantly stopping for all sites of historical interest and reading picture books to my children that recount people, places and events in history.  And, on that perfect fall day at Heritage Acres, I fell in love with a school room and an old man.  And, I recognized that the school desks of my son’s imagination, bound to a remembrance and representation of the idea of school – wooden desks, cherry red apples and scribblers – is fed by people like Norman who nostalgically tied to their own past contribute to the romance of history by keeping it alive through projects like school room restorations.

Photo Credit

© Christine Roome. All rights reserved.

School Daze #1: Wooden School Desks, Cherry-red Apples and Scribblers is a post from: LIFE AS A HUMAN