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Jul. 16th, 2008
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Jul. 16th, 2008 06:06 pmSunday morning, after breakfast, there was one table full of people who stayed a little longer than everyone else. And they were discussing the problems people with albinism are having in Tanzania, a country of 39 million people.
Not only are they having the usual trouble African countries have with availability of sunscreen, and the usual developing-countries problem of not enough hospitals for treating skin cancer, but every albino living in the country is living under the unique threat that some witch doctor may attempt to harvest their body for medicinal purposes.
I listened for as long as I could, but as the description of the problem became clearer to me, I became more aware that the problem is cultural, and therefore difficult to solve effectively. We can attempt to build a support network, like we have in the United States, which they certainly need, and I'd like to help with that. But as long as the people of that country are susceptible to both the belief in that kind of medicine, and the willingness to take lives to obtain it... well, that's a grim situation.
And I got Standard Skeptic's Frustration, much like every skeptic gets when they see how long faith healers and psychic surgeons can operate prosperously here in the United States. Except it's not just the patients that are dying.
The other science-minded person at the table, a doctor that studies genetics, is familiar with the problem, and his proposed solution is a memetic one: write a folk song that turns a martyred albino into a sympathetic character, or at least a human one, and hope it spreads. I don't know if an American can write the Tanzanian equivalent of Chocolate Rain, but I wish that cause luck.
This probably contributed to my post-conference bum-out.
Not only are they having the usual trouble African countries have with availability of sunscreen, and the usual developing-countries problem of not enough hospitals for treating skin cancer, but every albino living in the country is living under the unique threat that some witch doctor may attempt to harvest their body for medicinal purposes.
I listened for as long as I could, but as the description of the problem became clearer to me, I became more aware that the problem is cultural, and therefore difficult to solve effectively. We can attempt to build a support network, like we have in the United States, which they certainly need, and I'd like to help with that. But as long as the people of that country are susceptible to both the belief in that kind of medicine, and the willingness to take lives to obtain it... well, that's a grim situation.
And I got Standard Skeptic's Frustration, much like every skeptic gets when they see how long faith healers and psychic surgeons can operate prosperously here in the United States. Except it's not just the patients that are dying.
The other science-minded person at the table, a doctor that studies genetics, is familiar with the problem, and his proposed solution is a memetic one: write a folk song that turns a martyred albino into a sympathetic character, or at least a human one, and hope it spreads. I don't know if an American can write the Tanzanian equivalent of Chocolate Rain, but I wish that cause luck.
This probably contributed to my post-conference bum-out.
Rush's appearance on the Colbert Report reminded me of a great local band I saw by accident once: Freewill, a Rush tribute band.
I was going to Bash on Ash, expecting to go swing dancing, but there was a record release party there, and Freewill was playing a monstrous set. How monstrous? Well, it must have been at least two hours, because I stayed for a good few songs, left the Bash, walked to the relocated swing dance party at Tempe Beach Park, danced a few times, then walked back to the Bash and they were still playing. Holy fuck. I think they played most of 2112.
One thing I noticed on TV just now is that Geddy Lee talks like a human being. I don't know whether he goes into high-pitch screaming mode when he's at a concert, bantering with the audience. But I know our local Geddy Lee impersonator does.
I just spent the last 45 minutes staying up too late trying to find the night I saw them, in my Livejournal. It was a big night; I'd be surprised if I hadn't mentioned it.
I was going to Bash on Ash, expecting to go swing dancing, but there was a record release party there, and Freewill was playing a monstrous set. How monstrous? Well, it must have been at least two hours, because I stayed for a good few songs, left the Bash, walked to the relocated swing dance party at Tempe Beach Park, danced a few times, then walked back to the Bash and they were still playing. Holy fuck. I think they played most of 2112.
One thing I noticed on TV just now is that Geddy Lee talks like a human being. I don't know whether he goes into high-pitch screaming mode when he's at a concert, bantering with the audience. But I know our local Geddy Lee impersonator does.
I just spent the last 45 minutes staying up too late trying to find the night I saw them, in my Livejournal. It was a big night; I'd be surprised if I hadn't mentioned it.