Author: Mohamed Algarf

Hassan Arshad sat on a chair in front of the UBC MRI Research Center on Saturday and read a consent form given to him by Matt Dixon.

Arshad took off his black sunglasses, crossed his legs and swayed his right foot lightly as he read the form. Arshad is subject number 14 of 15 participants that Dixon is using for his research leading to a Masters in Psychology. Each participant earns $30 by signing up and could possibly earn an equal amount through the experiment itself.

“I’m interested in how the brain allows us to form goals in our mind,” said Dixon. “Or intentions to do things before we do it, and therefore be more proactive in the world as opposed to just reactive to whatever is currently happening in our immediate environment.”

After signing the papers, Dixon left Arshad to prepare himself and entered the control room. In the room he greeted Paul Hamill, an MRI Technologist and seated himself facing a table full of computer screens. Arshad, now dressed in a cream coloured hospital pajama, leafed through a magazine until he was called in to start.

From the control room, Arshad could be seen being helped into the MRI machine by Hamill. Dixon placed a sticker on Arshad’s left eyebrow so he could differentiate the sides in the scans.

From the control room, only half of Arshad’s body was in view. He was wearing striped light and dark blue socks with red tips and red heels, he crossed and uncrossed his feet a few times as he waited.

The experiment started.

Dixon would explain to Arshad what to do over the intercom. He would then run a program asking him questions, when Arshad got the right answer he earned 25 cents. The aim of the research is to see what is happening throughout the brain and how it is active in different areas as a people make goals.

When Dixon was ready to start each interval he would turn to Hamill and say “guacamole”, the agreed upon signal. Every two seconds the MRI takes an image composed of 36 slices of different angles of the brain. That adds up to 1,600 images per subject, 36 slices each, for 15 subjects. The data will take at least two to three months to analyze and a month or more to write and publish, said Dixon.

The MRI machine made a set of different noises, one sounded like loud knocking, another time it started a loud squeal. An hour and a half later, Arshad was let out of the machine. He squinted, looked around and stretched.
I did this because it would be interesting to see a picture of my brain, he said.  “The brain is just so interesting, there are many things we don’t know about the brain…so I thought it would be a great way to get to see what happens with the MRI.”

Nine years ago, Meghan Gardiner wrote a ten minute script for her graduation project for her UBC acting degree.

Over the following years, it grew into a 45 minute performance where Gardiner plays ten characters. She has now performed Dissolve, her one-woman show on sexual assault, over 450 times across North America.

On a Tuesday evening, Gardiner was back in UBC to perform it as she has done almost every year since the concept was created.  Twenty-eight women and eight men sauntered into the lounge in the Walter Gage Residence where the play took place.

A woman in the third row rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, her straight black hair cascaded onto her friend’s back. Near the door volunteers from Women Against Violence Against Women passed out fliers and asked people to sign up for their mailing list. They were joined by members of the UBC Sexual Assault Awareness Program, a new group formed on campus.

The play started simple.

Gardiner faced the audience and ran her fingers through her brown hair.  She was wearing a plain black tank top and black pants, her feet were bare.  Madonna’s Like a Virgin blasted from the speakers.

Over the following hour, Gardiner was able to switch between vastly different characters. With a lowering of her voice and a forward thrust of her pelvis she transformed into an obnoxious club bouncer. Her green eyes focused on her feet as she became a woman talking into the phone while putting nail-polish on her toes. Each character was a bystander or a contributor to the sexual assault the play revolves around.

The show’s last character was the victim, whom the audience did not meet until the end. “I feel violated and embarrassed, I feel like damaged goods,” she said. “I’m feeling all these things and I have no idea what happened.”

In the discussion following the performance, Gardiner revealed that the play was based on her personal experience when she was a student at UBC. She lost 13 hours of memory after someone slipped a drug into her drink.

Coming back to UBC annually is important to her, she said.  “I guess I am sort of protective over the UBC community… I want to make sure they get the message. “I want to hit home a little harder at UBC.”

As the discussion ended, the audience crowded the information stands to find out how to be involved.

One woman went up to Gardiner and asked for a hug.  Gardiner embraced her tightly, shut her eyes and smiled.

Sarah Meli left her room early on Friday morning and walked to one of the common kitchens in her graduate residence to start cooking for the birthday party.

She had sent an email three weeks earlier to inform over 150 residents of St John’s College that she was organizing a party for those born in September.

Meli had turned 24 years old the previous Tuesday.

She was carrying a notebook in which her mother had written recipes from Meli’s country, Malta.

“In Malta, you host, you pay, you cook, you feed,” she said.
“The potluck doesn’t happen in Malta- it never did, it never will. When you host it’s the thing you do, you cook for people and they eat.”

As she spread out the ingredients on the large wooden table, Ian McIvor rolled into the kitchen with his skateboard. His birthday was on Sept. 11 and he was volunteering to mix the dough and cake batter.

A French-Canadian student plopped himself into an armchair and talked about the Quebec beer he was bringing to the party- one of Meli’s emails had said people should bring their own alcohol.

At around 6 p.m. Meli and some other residents were rearranging the furniture in the ground floor social lounge where the party was held. She was wearing a white dress with a red pattern, a red scarf around her neck and a red shrug.  Her curly thick black hair was pulled up and a red flower rested over her left ear.

“Being away from my home I wanted to do something special, so I thought it would be a better idea to do something collective for all of us,” said Meli.

Residents from around the globe walked into the lounge carrying bottles of wine, beer and snacks.

Music started playing, ranging from Arabic to Spanish to Lady Gaga.  Ziaul Hasan, a student from India, danced the salsa with a resident from Ecuador.  Canadian student Samantha Meade was showing off some belly-dancing moves she learned last year.

Hanna Galal, another birthday celebrator, was standing with her friend Taylor Hatrick who was visiting from Victoria for the party. They met during their undergraduate studies in Germany, where Galal is from.

Meli stood at the other corner and watched her recently made friends dance and eat some of the pizzas she worked on almost all day. “This is one of the most special birthdays ever,” she said. “The fact that so many people came just to say happy birthday, the way they say it and what they do for you- you really feel the care.”

When Hisham Soliman chanted the words ‘Allah-u Akbar’ last Friday, over a 100 people fell to their knees and bowed down towards the direction of Mecca.

The group consisted mostly of men, around ten women and one young toddler who stared inquisitively at the people as their foreheads touched the floor.The young boy watched, fidgeted and then copied the movements he saw around him as he kneeled by his father’s side.

The worshipers were gathered in the Lower Lounge of the International House in UBC to observe the Muslim Friday prayer. The weekly prayers have been taking place for over five years and are organized by the Muslim Student Association in UBC.

Starting at around 1 p.m. people started rushing down the stairs which lead from the main floor to the lounge.
They shook the rain off of their coats and umbrellas and those with backpacks flung them on the tables in the hallway between the washrooms and the lounge. When they saw fellow Muslims they greeted them with the Islamic greeting “as-salam alaykoum”- meaning peace be upon you.

Most then hurried to the washroom to perform the ritual ablutions required before prayer. They then took off their shoes and stepped onto the carpets which had been placed earlier on the lounge’s floor by the first people to arrive.
Sneakers, leather shoes, rain-boots and hundreds of other shoes lay scattered in the hallway as more people hurried in.

At 1:15 p.m. Soliman, a PhD candidate in Pharmacology, addressed the crowd in a khutba– the sermon that precedes the prayer. Every time he said the name of Muhammad, the prophet of Islam, the crowd broke into a collective whisper and said peace be upon him.

As the prayers started, a couple entered the main floor of the building while pushing a stroller. An International Peer Advisor volunteered to watch their baby so that they could pray. The mother, her hair covered in a purple veil, waved at the her little girl and then quickened her step to the washroom.

When the prayer ended, the group squeezed themselves into the narrow hallway and bumped into each other as they put on their shoes. Outside the building people greeted each other each other in a multitude of languages.

“How is the family?” a bearded man asked another in Arabic. Two young students wearing backpacks discussed the weather and complained about their assignment load. A group of students chattered away in Bengali.
“I have to rush to class now, see you next week,” said another student as he waved back to the crowd.