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mexico raves

Reasons to visit Mexico #1 Breakfast

mexican breakfastOriginally uploaded by mgharris


Here’s one of the things I really miss about Mexico; food!

Yesterday cousin Rodrigo explained how come he left Manchester so suddenly last year.

“I missed my Mexican food, and my mum. I’d had enough of sandwiches, pizzas and kebabs. So I bought a ticket and surprised everyone.”

The photo shows chilaquiles (fried corn tortillas cooked in stock and green tomato and chili sauce, with onions and optional sour cream), refried beans and fried potatoes and peppers.

The relief of eating this after 3 years…

Categories
mexico

Cancun – is this really Mexico?

The beach at Cancun’s Hilton hotel

Cancun was a fairly newish resort with about fifteen (big) hotels when I first visited in 1981. The airport was one small terminal and a strip cut into the forest of coconut palms.

It doesn’t feel much like the rest of Mexico. Everything is charged in dollars and pesos also. It all feels a bit too organised and tidy to be real Mexico. I’m not wild about Cancun, but it this hotel is very comfortable.

It’s my fourth visit since then. Much has changed. We arrived to a Cancun airport that looks as big as Mexico City’s. At the car rental office a blue-eyed guy in a white cap began to chat with me in typical friendly Mexican fashion. My daughter growled at me for telling our life story to the first person who asked. But that’s how Cancun is. We want to know your life story, thanks very much. How else can we know which of the various services we have on offer to sell you? And my daughter is right, I’m probably way too friendly.

This guy and I had discussed: 1) the lack of a Mexican community in the UK, 2) the shocking state of our native Mexico City (I’m from Coyoacan, he’s from nearby neighbourhood Colonia del Valle), 3) the lamentable record of Mexico’s most corrupt former presidents and their responsibility for the disintegration of Mexican society, 4) the growing influence of Columbian drug lords on Mexico (he reckons plane after plane lands in Cancun loaded with Colombian cocaine, with airport air officials bribed/threatened into turning a blind eye); all this before he finally tried in a very relaxed fashion to sell us a tour or a time share apartment. “I can’t exactly buy a time-share from you, not when my sister sells time-shares, “ I told him. He blinked and nodded in agreement. “But come and have a day at the resort, drinks, watersports, as my guest anyway, no pressure, any time you like.”

This morning the sea is rough but already looks turquoise, the sky is filled with bunched clouds, the pools at this hotel seem infinite (and there’s a huge infinity pool), people are out training.

My lovely cousin Rodrigo just happens to work at the hotel we booked into. He’s studying International Tourism at Uni. Classes from 7am, and works reception in the evenings. A tough life, he admitted, but he loves it. He upgraded our rooms and breakfasts, and left us a delicious chocolate truffle cake in the room…

Categories
nostalgia science

Yay Smithies et al, the Nobel prize is yours…!

And the prize goes to…the gene targeting guys!

There’ll be a few more scientists I used to know gnashing their teeth this week as more of their friends win the Nobel prize and they don’t.

(I once heard of one guy who would get wildly depressed with jealousy every year that one of his friends and not him joined the Nobel prize-winners club. I wrote a short story about it…which shall remain unpublished or because I named actual real scientists I know, to make it funnier… This story is handwritten in a drawer and I show it to me special science friends once in a while, for a giggle. The coda to this tale is that the guy in question finally did win. Obviously I can’t name any names…)

This year the Nobel Prize for Medicine went to the Sir Martin Evans, Mario Capecchi and Oliver Smithies, the guys who developed the technologies for creating a mouse with a gene ‘knocked out’. This means that you could look at the effect, in theory, of a single gene in a mouse, by creating a mouse that was normal in every way except that it lacked, say, the haemoglobin gene.
The early days of any new technique are always fraught with difficulties. I came into the gene targeting game in 1993, early-ish, but quite a few mouse knockouts had already been done. It still wasn’t easy though. Nowadays I bet rich labs just order a knockout mouse via the Web…

I was put on a project to knockout a gene called the FGFR3 – fibroblast growth factor receptor 3. It’s an interesting gene because a single mutation – one tiny change in the DNA code – results in the condition known as achondroplasia – aka dwarfism.

The first thing I had to do was to ‘restriction map’ the DNA in the chromosome – i.e. make a map of all the sites where ‘restriction’ enzymes could specifically cut into the DNA. Since DNA is too tiny to cut with scissors, molecular biologists use these naturally occuring enzymes to snip DNA into pieces. It’s just a matter of knowing which enzymes cut where and then picking your tools; the enzymes which will cut you out a nice chunk of precisely tailored DNA.

The mouse FGFR3 gene was spread over quite a large region of DNA so I used this delish and elegant new method that I’d read about. It worked like you wouldn’t believe, first time too!

I’d just mapped the FGFR3 gene and got partway into making the ‘knockout construct’ – the DNA molecule that you use to inject into mouse embryonic stem (ES) cells – a first stage towards the knockout mouse (the stage that Smithies contributed to the whole process).

And then a Big Hot Lab in the USA published the FGFR3 knockout mouse in a Damn Hot Journal.

Bah. So that was several months of my work down the drain! I went to see my boss. Did he know that Big Hot Lab had a couple of postdocs and a techie or two on the same project as little me?Hmmm, he said and peered hard at his computer screen, as if something rather canny had just occurred to him. “I may have heard a rumour or two…”

And that’s why I didn’t develop the FGFR3 knockout mouse and get a Cell paper and why I ultimately gave up science and had to do other things. Yes, but for that I might never have written a single novel.

Meanwhile, Oliver Smithies. I heard him talk once. What a character! He’s a Brit – a Yorkshireman I think (I may have remembered that wrong). but lives in North Carolina now. He flew in to talk at the Dunn School of Pathology, Oxford when I was a grad student. I mean that quite literally – Smithies has a pilot’s license and like John Travolta, flies himself to all his engagements.

This is rare for a scientist.

Smithies gave a fascinating talk, one of the best I ever saw in my whole time as a scientist. It featured lots of photos of his lab and his makeshift equipment. This guy is one of those rare, rare things – a scientist who is also a natural engineer.


Check out Smithies’ homemade electroporator – known by scientists as a ‘zapper’ for hitting cells with an electric current so that DNA goes in.

Years before Perkin-Elmer had patented the Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) and made a machine which allowed people to amplify DNA molecules by basically just sticking some DNA and Taq polymerase enzyme in a test tube and putting it into a Perkin-Elmer thermal cycler, Smithies was doing early ground-breaking PCR using bits of washing machine timers to do the thermal cycling. He showed us photos of stuff that you wouldn’t believe could be used to do proper science, equipment literally cobbled together from bits and bobs and stuck together with sticky tape. He was an elderly man even then but brimming with enthusiasm. I remember being quite inspired.

I’m chuffed he’s won. Best Nobel Prize news since Paul Nurse won for the yeast cell cycle genes.

Categories
raves

A Night with Imps

My good pal DB yesterday dragged us out blinking to discover that the world has more to offer by way of entertainment than salsa music and dancing, a fact that we’ve neglected for ooh, years.

“Maybe you’ll finally mention me on your blog” DB remarked. I pointed out that I recently devoted an entire post to her, with a photo and everything, that her comment showed just how little she reads it. “Well I’m very busy,” DB said carefully. But her tone said: I have responsibilities, people to see, places to go, millions of pounds to raise for Keble College, and I can’t be sitting on the Web all day fiffing and faffing.

Quite right too…

So on DB’s insistence we saw the University’s improvisational comedy troupe, known as the Oxford Imps. They play every Monday night in term-time, at the Wheatsheaf pub in Oxford. They improvise sketches and songs based on daft and random audience shout-outs.

For example, yesterday featured a rap set in the underworld of the Bodleian library stacks, a musical about ghostbusters (ending in a harmonised quartet), a musical about hats (including a murderous milliner who rhymed ‘milliner’ with ‘killin’ ‘er’), a really impressive feat of memory in which dialogue is improvised and then delivered forwards, backwards, inside out…and more; two hours worth of entertainment for £3! Bargain!

The troupe are amazingly professional, they know how to get laughs and impress the audience, how to get the whole room joining in, willing them along to succeed. The show is like the TV show “Whose Line Is It Anyway” with three times the energy and goodwill.

Improvisation comedy is a real test of acting and wit, in my opinion. The Oxford Imps are natural born entertainers and comedians.

Categories
raves

Kids are AMAZING: Part One

Young family band “Bound By Time” last Saturday in Oxford’s Cornmarket Street

This post is a tribute to the inventiveness of today’s kids. Equipped with musical instruments, video cameras, editing software and the Web these guys are doing such amazing stuff that frankly, it’s a wonder that they still need adult musicians, writers and film-makers to entertain them. Maybe they don’t. Maybe all they need is a bit of inspiration.

Today I’m featuring young band ‘Bound By Time’ and my friend Alice, young cartoonist, artist and stop-motion movie proto-genius.

I’ve seen Bound By Time twice now, on one of their visits to the streets of Oxford. My little daughter aged 5 really loves them and won’t leave until we’ve heard several songs. Last Saturday we heard them play “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”, “Don’t Look back in Anger” among several others, plus a couple of their own compositions (I liked ‘Easy Does It’). They play and sing rather well, with good vocal harmonies. Big brother Alex has a lovely tenor voice and the girls all look fabulously cool, grungy and unbothered by everything. I asked Alex if he wanted to be a pop singer and he answered “I just want to keep doing this, making our music with the band…”

Crumbs, what a professional answer…

My friend Alice (aged 15) has a collection of the funniest mobile phone films I’ve ever seen. I keep on at her to put them on Youtube but there’s some formatting or editing issue… They are stop motion animations of some cuddly toys, starting with a murder mystery solved by the walrus ‘Dr. Glen’ and then finally being more or less the (mis)adventures of Dr. Glen, whose entire dialogue (interpreted by Alice and my teenage daughter in voice-over) consists of the word WUH.

(As in WUH-WUH-WUH WUH, WUH!: What’s that Dr. Glen? You’ve just reached the check-in desk and realised that your passport has expired? Trust me it’s funny when you see it…)

I can’t show you Dr. Glen, shame, but I can show you this lovely song-vid which Alice put on her Facebook. It’ll make you ache for the long summers of your teens. Unless you are still a youngster, and then it will make you look forward to them.

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=17827723360

(My daughter is the one eating sugared jelly Iberia lollies on the airplane with Alice…)

You need a FaceBook account to see it. I’m assuming we’re all living in the 21st century here.