Here are snapshots on our second time at the Cambridge Science Festival:

March 21, 2009

West Cambridge Site

First stop for the day: the planetarium. Definitely fascinating stuff for kids.

Inside the planetarium. People had to go through a zipped-on door and sit on the chairs around the dome…or squat on the floor.

Next stop: make your own rockets! A facilitator explains to Aya how to make one using plastic tube and paper.

A rocket is no fun at all if it doesn’t fly. Fortunately, the organizers knew that and they provided a way for those kiddie rockets to zoom into er, space. Here’s a guy powering up our rocket using a pump. That orange one is Aya’s. Aya got to arm and release the rocket on a controller.

After watching our rocket fly into space and then nose-dive into the ground (fortunately we didn’t get our eyes poked), we moved on to more serious Physics stuff. Here Aya tries her hand on making a dragster - an elastically powered car.

At our table…not quite finished yet.

At first, Aya’s dragster went on a skewed direction, so someone helped her fix it.

It runs, yay! The goal of this activity is to see how far the dragsters go, measure the time it takes and then compute the average speed. Aya’s dragster ran for about 2 m in less than 1 s.

Explaining to kids how Bernoulli’s Principle helps those airplanes fly.

A simple experiment to test Bernoulli’s Principle. Levitate that pingpong ball while blowing very hard through a straw! After failing several times, Aya was finally able to do it much to the delight of spectators.

I wish I could say, see you next year, but I don’t think we’d get the chance anymore. Still, it was all very interesting and hopefully, very educational for my little one. It sure made for a very memorable time here in Cambridge.

For those who missed some of the events, you may find some video/audio here.

Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity to expose my daughter to such events - hoping that she will get the impression that not only is science interesting stuff, but that it is also fun and engaging (and definitely not just for the geeks and nerds). I think it’s just wonderful that there are events like these where children and adults alike would get an exposure to science. There are several such events in Tsukuba, but we have yet to attend one (too lazy; Japanese language was too daunting; Aya was too young, yada yada yada). So one could aptly say that this was our first experience together. Not just us, actually, because Lola was also here to enjoy the festivities. Just imagine, my Mom, a senior citizen and who is not a science-person herself, having fun doing experiments with us! Kudos to the organizers and facilitators of the event — superbly done!

We attended the events on two consecutive Saturdays. While there were various activities at different venues, I was only bent on attending those which were organized by my department (of course), and those which were organized by the Physics Department at The Cavendish Laboratory. Nothing bad about giving your kid an extra nudge towards subjects you yourself find interesting, eh?

The following are snapshots of some of the events we attended:

March 14, 2009

New Museums Site

First stop: Zoology Museum. Here’s Aya making her dragonfly toy out of beads and pieces of wire. We moved around the museum and saw preserved animals, skeletons, and other living things thriving in Wicked Fen.

Sizzling Science - culinary arts meet science. A chef prepared a 4-course meal while a scientist explained various underlying scientific concepts about cooking, health, and nutrition. Our favorite one was dessert: rhubarb sorbet made using dry ice!

First activity at the Department of Materials Science and Metallurgy. Aya puts designs on her plastic cup.

The cup is then handed over to a guy with a heat gun. He explains why the plastic deforms under heat.

Watch closely! The cup crumples under the heat gun.

Finished product! The cup has morphed into a pin badge!

We then moved on to do some cave-painting using some iron-based chemicals. I didn’t know that the cave-dwellers used these stuff.

This is the "Green Robot" Aya made out of recycled materials. Spent an incredibly amount of time putting legs and arms, but they just kept falling off.

I was a little disappointed that Aya was more interested in making the robot than watching the magnetically levitating boat nearby (superconductor pellets immersed in liquid nitrogen were placed on styrofoam boats and made to levitate around the magnetic track), but I guess the concept is too advanced to explain to her. Or perhaps the whole setup seems to appeal more to boys than girls?

Last stop for the day. Here’s Aya making her "tower" out of straws. The goal was really to make a parachute out of straws and paper, place an egg in it, and watch if it was good enough to keep the egg from breaking when dropped. Unfortunately, we didn’t get that far.

Don’t forget to check out Part Two.

I was taken aback, and immediately I worried about where exactly she had heard that word. Did she hear one of her classmates or friends say it (bad, baaadd children!)? Did she hear it on TV? The Internet? Or worse, did she ever hear me say it out loud? Well, at least my conscience is clear that I have never said that word in front of her. If you’re a responsible adult, it’s only natural and expected that you filter the vocabulary you use in front of children, particularly your own. Still, despite our best efforts, it is next to impossible to shield our children from the so-called evils of the real world. It’s all part of growing up in an imperfect society. Sooner or later children will find out that both nice and nasty things are out there in various proportions.

Anyway, in between chopping vegetables and putting meat to sizzle on the wok, I tried to explain to her the meaning of the b word. I said, "Well, it has two meanings. The first one is that it refers to a female dog. The other is a nasty one, and that’s what some people call nasty people who are mean and not nice. You shouldn’t use that word because it’s a bad word."

Aya looked thoughtful, the way she always did whenever I explain a word or idea to her. Then as if she suddenly remembered something, she immediately left the kitchen.

When she came back, she showed me the Illustrated Classics for Girls book I recently bought for her, the one she has been reading by herself recently. Gingerly, she opened a page and pointed at a passage on Chapter 3 of The Wizard of Oz:

But the scarecrow had an idea. "If the tinman chops down this tree, we could use it to cross the ditch."

Oh…my…gosh! It was ditch, not bitch, you hopeless schmuck. Trying to hide my embarrassment, I quickly explained to her the meaning of the word ditch.

Lessons learned:

1. Children ask simple questions, but adults make a big deal out of them.

2. Adults just need to listen carefully to what children say (if only to avoid blunders like this one).

I don’t know how I may seem to appear to other women, but I don’t think of myself as one of those successful women who seem to have it all. I’ve made compromises along the way myself. And if I were to make a chart of my life now, it would probably look like this:

That is roughly based on the number of hours I allot to my daily concerns on weekdays. Weekends are of course devoted mostly to family/home affairs, because I opt not to work on weekends.

If I were to make my "ideal" chart, it would probably look like this:

Haha, good luck with that one. I did say "ideal"; I didn’t say it was practical (right now). Still, it’s nice to think of ways on how to achieve that kind of balance. And hey, who knows? Priorities do change as you get older.

A huge chunk of my time is concentrated on work. I feel kind of guilty because my work gets the best of me, and the rest goes to my family and other stuff. I do manage to snip off a few hours per month for my so-called "Me-Time." I usually devote it to blogging, photography, and what-have-you. And I just wish I had more time to devote to things I really enjoy doing - things that do not have the word "work" tagged on them.

And yet, in spite of the fact that I devote so many hours to my work, I still feel that my efforts are not enough. How much more severe would the consequences be if I were to redistribute my hours so as to achieve a more "balanced" life? As it is, there will always be colleagues who would perform better in terms of scientific output and impact. There will always be those who can be at the laboratory virtually 24/7, and whose brain cells never stop working on their scientific problems even when they get home. There will always be colleagues who would have the luxury of time, those who don’t have to take occasional breaks from work in order to take care of their sick children. While effort doesn’t always translate to productivity, it can lead to a significant difference over time.

It makes me wonder about this. Choosing to have a family life is a purely individual choice, but does it necessarily mean that those who do will inevitably have their career trajectories severely affected? Are they doomed to mediocre careers because they just can’t devote themselves wholly to their disciplines anymore? Like it or not, when you become a parent, your priorities shift drastically. It’s just the way it is.

On the other hand, does having a career condemn you to become a less effective and caring parent to your child? Are you doomed to have your child say to you one day, "You just weren’t there for me"?  Ouch.

Life becomes akin to walking on a tightrope, where a slight perturbation can cause you to dangerously keel over to the other side. Now that’s something you don’t learn in school.

Grinning from ear to ear, she excitedly said, "Because he was not peeling well!" This was followed by loud girly giggles. Wow, I thought to myself. Did she just tell me a joke in English? I mean, she actually understood what the joke was all about: a word play on "peeling" and "feeling." I was so amazed. Just months ago I couldn’t imagine her telling me a joke like that.

She had another joke for me: "Why is 6 afraid of 7?" The answer is: "Because 789." A word play on homonyms!

And here’s another: "Why is Cinderella so bad at football?" "Because her coach was a pumpkin!" Oh, I see! I thought it had something to do with the dainty glass slippers not being suitable for football, bwahahaha.

She picks these things up from school, friends, TV, and the internet. As any normal child at her age would, I guess. But I could also observe that she really likes English as a language - in fact, nowadays she never talks to me in Tagalog or Japanese anymore. Even when I speak to her in Tagalog, she responds in English. And she loves to use "big" words in her sentences, too. Words like "wonderful," "recognize," and "realize," among many more. Maybe it’s no big deal for children whose native tongue is English. But considering the fact that we never really used English at home prior to coming here, and that she practically grew up in a Japanese environment, her astounding progress in English is a real delight to me as a parent.

Her reading skill is also growing in leaps and bounds. I encourage her to read me stories every night. It’s a great way to learn new words and increase one’s vocabulary. I remember that as a child I didn’t just read books, I devoured them. I’m happy to see that my daughter is also developing this affection for books. One of her most favorite hangouts in Cambridge is Borders, believe it or not.

There was also a time when she recited out to me:

I hear and I forget,

I see and I remember,

I do and I understand.

I did a double take and blurted, "What did you say?!!" Where did that come from? Well, I’m sure she learned it in school, but dear me, it sounded so profound, so Confucius-like. It reminded me of the times when I learned how to operate a machine for the first time. Understanding only comes when you do it yourself.

Same way with language, I suppose. Use it to learn it. Guess I’ll have to be put up with Ms. Ingglisera’s* jokey jokes for a while.

*Ingglisera = refers to a person (female; Ingglisero is male) who likes to speak in English even if it’s not one’s own native language. Sometimes used in a derogatory manner (but I’m not really sure why!).

I love the way the snow reflected the blue color from the darkening skies.

 
Aya’s wish finally comes true. We made snowmen at our backyard!

On my way to the university. The whole scenery was simply breathtaking.

See more related photos at my Flickr album.

Image source: www.flickr.com/photos/cpurrin1/2262636867/

I got to Lady Mitchell Hall (LHM) - the venue- at about ten past five, but was promptly told at the door that the hall was full - and this was a good 20 minutes before the lecture’s schedule! Instead, I was told to go to the "Little Hall," which was directly opposite LHM. Even Little Hall was almost full, but I managed to squeeze-in in one of the pews. It was my first time to attend such an event - and was quite surprised at how many attendees there were. There was a palpable sense of excitement in the air. However, instead of a stage, in front of the room was a large projection screen. Latecomers had no choice but to content themselves with a digital broadcast of the actual event unfolding at the other hall.

The title of the talk is "Global Darwin." Prof. Secord started his talk with a photo of the great man himself - Darwin, "with his grizzled beard and deep sad eyes, appears today as a ubiquitous icon, his image appearing on posters, book jackets, banknotes, and postage stamps from around the world." He discussed Darwin’s voyage on the Beagle, his numerous correspondences with the contemporary thinkers of his day, how his ideas sparked debates in the intellectual arena, the translation of his work into various languages in the world within the period of 1860-1970. It was an almost one-hour talk, and I couldn’t possibly recount the details here. But one thing I’ve realized, after attending this talk, is how poorly I’ve perceived Darwin in the past. I’ve learned about the concept of evolution and natural selection in school, but I guess I’ve never really pondered on its implications. Evolution wasn’t even something we debated on in school. I think it’s likely because we have a tendency to deal with issues in a rather dichotomous manner: heaven and hell, good and evil…evolution and creation. There is no middle ground.

I entirely agree with the speaker with his main point - that Darwin’s ideas left a lot of room for ambiguities and interpretations. But there’s the beauty of it - by placing the spotlight on some of humanity’s greatest mysteries, we turn to science to give us the answers. We challenge old ideas and make way for new ones.

Perhaps, the shock of the evening is to learn how through the years people have misquoted Darwin and interpreted his ideas in a different way. And as it turned out, people are still misquoting him. Etched on the floor of the California Academy of Sciences were the words, "It is not the strongest of species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is most adaptable to change." Well, I’ve not read the Origin of Species, but I take Prof. Secord’s word that there is no such quote in Darwin’s books (for those who are tenacious, all his publications are available online at www.darwin-online.org.uk). In Prof. Secord’s words, Darwin wasn’t the type of scientist who liked "sound bites."

The quote sends a feel-good message, though, for those of us who are neither strong nor intelligent - and I do think some people will derive some inspiration from knowing that they can survive the hardest of times if they make themselves adaptable (plus of course they’d think, a scientist said it!!!). Perhaps Darwin wouldn’t mind so much how that quote has "evolved," don’t you think?

I didn’t know what to do, honestly. I have very vivid memories of my Daddy wrapping a thread around my tooth and pulling it with all his might. I wailed with all my might in return - although it didn’t hurt that much, the thought of having my tooth pulled in brute force surely wasn’t a happy one.

I consulted Baggy. He only had one advice: go see a dentist.

I wasn’t so sure I needed a dentist to do the job. After all, as far as I remember, none of us kids (in my family) went to a dentist just to have our milk teeth pulled out. And actually, neither did Baggy. Still, he insisted that it was the right thing to do.

Anyway, I consulted my cousin, who is a medical doctor. Her advice was the same: go see a dentist.

I consulted another colleague. Guess what, she told me to see a dentist immediately, but warned that it would be tricky because it is quite difficult to get a reservation in dental clinics in Cambridge. Sometimes it would take about a month.

What?! A month! I don’t have a month to spare. I started imagining my beautiful Aya getting crowded, misaligned teeth growing in weird places in her mouth.

Of course, by this time I was starting to panic. Aya’s permanent teeth has indeed already sprouted, and the silly old milk tooth still refused to lay down and die!

I browsed through the NHS list of dental practices in our area, and found one that seemed like a good bet. I called them up, and to my surprise, got a reservation that very day.

The clinic was a bit far from our place, though, and I had to half-drag Aya for about 25 minutes just to get there. Even with our best effort, we were already 15 mins. late when we got there.

The dentist counted Aya’s teeth, took notes, and casually glanced at the protruding tooth in Aya’s gums. "You see, that tooth is wobbly, but it’s not yet ready to come off," I told her. She looked at me and said, "Yes it is."

Then after she poked around a bit more, she seemed satisfied and finally said, "Ok, that’s it. See you in six months."

I was flabbergasted. I mean, wasn’t she supposed to pull the milk tooth out so that the permanent tooth could finally move into its rightful spot?

"Just let it fall out on its own," was her emphatic reply.

And so, as it turned out, we dragged our sorry selves for almost half an hour, only to sit at the dentist’s chair for less than five minutes. Only to be told to let the damn tooth fall out naturally.

Well, I didn’t know that that’s what parents are supposed to do. Leave the falling out of milk teeth to Mother Nature. So why was everyone telling me to "go see the dentist"? Go figure.

And so after a couple of weeks of waiting, the tooth finally succumbed to the natural order of things. It fell off on its on, just like the dentist said. I was so relieved, while at the same time feeling rather silly that I didn’t just trust my instincts.

And as for Aya…well, she was ecstatic! Turns out that she has been waiting for her first tooth to fall off, because, like all girls, she’s been waiting for her first encounter with the magical Tooth Fairy. Breathless with anticipation, she gingerly placed her tooth under her pillow before she went to sleep that night.

Sure enough, there was a shiny one-pound coin under her pillow the following morning, thanks to the Tooth Fairy who had magically transformed it overnight.

That same Tooth Fairy now knows to just let nature take its course, in due time.

It’s as if Google has become the ultimate scale that weighs how significant someone is, not just in the virtual world of the internet, but in the real world as well. After all, isn’t the internet a microcosm of the real world we live in? It used to be that someone is considered significant when mentioned in a local newspaper or any published material. Well, the internet changed all that.

The word "google" has itself been transformed into a verb, as in: "Just google it, and you’ll find out," or "Google the information you want." These days, if you’re not on the internet in some form (anonymous or otherwise), it seems as if you don’t exist.

Call it the process of googlification. How googlificant (google + significant) you are is directly indicated by the number of hits you get from googling your own name.

I do indulge myself in this game of googling, as some form of egoistic pasttime. I type in my own name and see how many hits will come up. I also type in the names of some people I know and see how googlified they are. It sort of feels like spying on other people’s lives, but hey, if it’s on the internet, it’s public knowledge, right?

Sometimes, however, there are some people I know who, like Wesley Gibson, never register any hits on Google. Not even one! Makes me wonder where on earth they might be. I’m not at all saying that they’re living insignificant lives. It’s just as likely that they have managed to keep themselves out of the reach of the internet, who knows? Well, good for them, they’re probably living their private lives in relative peace and quiet.

On the other end of the spectrum, there are also some people I know who would score thousands of hits on Google. Part of the reason is their high level of activity as recorded on the internet. Another reason is the non-uniqueness of their names, and several people having the same names would come up as a result. Parents, remember to give your children unique names, or they’ll be lost in the sea of Google hits.

Like it or not, Google - or any search engine for that matter - is here to stay. It probably makes us dumber by the day as we rely on it for instant information we don’t bother to retain in our heads anymore. But somehow it has enabled simple people - like you and me - feel like mini-celebrities in our own rights, having a bit of spotlight with the likes of Pres. Obama or Paris Hilton.

Unfortunately, you are still abroad and couldn’t quite yet decide on whether to live there permanently or not. You don’t like the idea of having it rented, because you want it ready for you each time you go back for short visits. The concept of having other people live there is just…ghastly. You want the place all for your own.

So for the moment it’s just sitting there, unoccupied. And because the subdivision has tall perimeter walls and gates guarded 24/7 by security guards, you sort of feel assured that nothing will happen to the house.

One day, your caretaker informs you that there has been a forced entry into your house. How would you feel?

(a) Outraged. First at the intruder who had the nerve to break into your house, and second, at the incompetent guys who were supposed to be guarding the place.

(b) Indifferent. It happens, after all, it’s a Third-World country. Charge the losses to experience.

(c) Contemplative. By george, how did the burglar get in? Now, how could the locks be reinforced so incidents like these could be prevented?

(d) Vengeful. You feel like rigging the house with traps so that scums will get what’s coming to ‘em. Give them what they deserve!

(e) Amused. That’s because you anticipated that somehow, somebody would eventually find out that the house is unoccupied most of the time, and so wisely enough, didn’t leave any valuables there. There’s virtually nothing worth stealing, unless the thieves are really that intent on stealing heavy furnitures. And because you also learned that the thief only managed to steal two things: the metal thingy on the gas burner (where the flames emanate from), and one small non-stick frying pan. Of all things!

(f) Feel sorry. What would have driven someone to do something like that? Only the hard-pressed for money would do it, you guess. Someone down on his luck, living a hand to mouth existence. At saka baka talagang kailangan lang niyang magluto? Di ba?

Well, that’s a roundup of the emotions I’m feeling right now, after hearing the unfortunate incident at our residence. I know, of course, that we have to quickly find ways to prevent something similar in the future from occurring again. Extra heavy-duty locks. Metal grills on the doors. Gaah. Personally I hate grills - they just ruin my concept of a "home sweet home." In our efforts to keep other people out, we risk turning our homes into something that closely resembles a prison.

On a positive note, the property manager of the subdivision said that they will pay for the repairs of the damage to our property. The damage is actually minor - the intruder had made a hole on the door to the master’s bedroom, in order to unlock the knob from the inside. He or she probably thought that there was something valuable inside, what with the door closed. What a disappointment it must have been to just find old pambahay (house) clothes in the drawers and cabinets!

Now, I don’t know if they would pay for the stolen frying pan and stove accessories, though. Naku, pano na kami magpiprito niyan, aber?

It’s a wake-up call, my sis remarked when I told her about it. Talk about one of the ugly realities of living in da Pilipins!