Archive for February, 2008

Lina Medina

Lina Medina (born September 27, 1933 in Peru) gave birth at the age of 5 years, 7 months and 21 days and is the youngest confirmed mother in medical history.

Brought to a hospital by her parents at the age of 5 years because of increasing abdominal size. She was originally thought to have had a tumor, but her doctors determined she was in the seventh month of pregnancy.

Her son weighed 2.7 kg (6 lb) at birth and was named Gerardo after her doctor. Gerardo was raised believing that Lina was his sister, but found out at the age of ten that she was his mother. He grew up healthy but died in 1979 at the age of 40 of a disease of the bone marrow.

There was never evidence that Lina Medina’s pregnancy occurred in any but the usual way, but she never revealed the father of the child, nor the circumstances of her impregnation. Dr. Escomel suggested she might not actually know herself by writing that Lina “couldn’t give precise responses.” Lina’s father was arrested on suspicion of rape and incest, but was later released due to lack of evidence. Medina later married Raúl Jurado, who fathered her second son in 1972. They live in a poor district of Lima known as Chicago Chico (“Little Chicago”).

There are two published photographs documenting the case. The first one was taken around the beginning of April, 1939, when Medina was seven and a half months into pregnancy. Taken from Medina’s left side, it shows her standing naked in front of an inconclusive backdrop (either the side wall of a house with the sun shining on her, or a light-diffusing blanket in a room with an overhead light pointed toward the front of her body). This is the only published photograph of Lina taken during her pregnancy. This photograph is of significant value because it proves Medina’s pregnancy as well as the extent of her physiological development. However, this photograph is not widely known outside medical circles. The other photograph is of far greater clarity and was taken a year later in Lima when Gerardo was eleven months old.

photo: Edmundo Escomel

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Cred ca el, cand a fugit de-acasa, s-a slujit de pribegirea unor pasari calatoare. In dimineata plecarii, a facut mare randuiala pe planeta. A curatat cu grija hornurile vulcanilor incinsi. Avea doi vulcani incinsi. Tocmai potriviti, spre a-si incalzi gustarea de dimineata. Mai avea si un vulcan stins. Insa, dupa cum spunea: “Nu se stie niciodata!” Asa incat a curatat deopotriva si vulcanul stins. Vulcanii, daca sunt bine curatati, ard domol si linistit, fara eruptii. Eruptiile vulcanice sunt ca focurile care rabufnesc pe horn. De buna seama, noi, cei de pe Pamant, suntem mult prea marunti pentru a ne curata vulcanii. De aceea ne si pricinuiesc o multime de neajunsuri.
Micul print, cuprins de-o usoara tristete, smulse apoi si ultimii puieti de baobab. El credea ca nu se va intoarce niciodata. Toate aceste obisnuite treburi i se parura insa, in dimineata aceea, nespus de dragi. Iar pe cand stropea, pentru cea din urma oara, floarea, si se pregatea sa o puna la adapost sub clopotu-i de sticla, se pomeni ca-i vine-a plange.
– Ramai cu bine – ii spuse florii.
Ea insa nu-i raspunse.
– Ramai cu bine – spuse el din nou.
Floarea tusi. dar nu din pricina racelii.
– Am fost o proasta – ii zise ea in cele din urma. Iti cer iertare. Cauta de fii fericit.
El se mira ca nu-l mai dojeneste. Ramase locului, descumpanit, cu clopotul de sticla in mana. Nu stia ce sa mai creada despre aceasta blandete.
– Ei bine, da, te iubesc – zise floarea. Tu n-ai stiut nimic, e vina mea. Asta n-are nici o importanta. dar si tu ai fost la fel de prost ca mine. Cauta de fii fericit … Lasa clopotul de sticla-n pace. Nu mai am nevoie de el …
– Bine, dar vantul …
– Nu sunt chiar atat de racita … Aerul proaspat al noptii are sa-mi priasca. Eu sunt o floare …
– Bine, dar fiarele …
– Trebuie totusi sa rabd vreo doua-trei omizi, daca vreau sa aflu cum arata fluturii. Pare-se c-ar fi ceva nespus de frumos. Altminteri, cine sa mai treaca pe la mine? Tu, unul, ai sa fii departe … Cat despre fiare, n-am nici o frica. Am ghearele mele.
Si-i arata, cu nevinovatie, cei patru spini ai sai. Apoi adauga:
– Nu mai taragana atata, e plicticos! Te-ai hotarat sa pleci. Du-te!
Caci nu voia ca el s-o vada plangand. Atat era de mandra floarea …

sursa: http://gxg.uv.ro/Micul_Print/

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Du kannst nur jemanden hassen, den du eigentlich liebst.

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Helen Keller was born in a small town called Tuscumbia, Alabama, on an estate called Ivy Green. Her birthday was June 27, 1880, and her parents were Kate Adams Keller and Colonel Arthur Keller. Theirs was a house full of words; Helen’s dad was the editor of the local paper, The North Alabamian. But silence fell on this house in February 1882 when 19-month-old Helen became extremely ill and lost her ability to hear and see.
Learning was tough for Helen. Because of her deafness and blindness, no one could get through to her, and she could not communicate with others. Basic rules and lessons made no sense to her, and she was called a “wild child”. Then, in 1886, her mom heard about the Perkins School for the Blind in Boston from Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone. Helen reminded Bell of another girl named Laura Bridgman, who was deaf and blind. Kate wrote to the head of the Perkins School to ask for a teacher for Helen and they sent their star student, Anne Sullivan. The day she arrived—March 3, 1887—Helen’s life changed.
Anne had to figure out a way to make Helen understand words and their meaning. She began to teach Helen letters, by signing them into her palm. Then just one month later, everything clicked. Anne held Helen’s hand under a pump while signing W-A-T-E-R into her palm. Helen’s whole face lit up. The word came to life, in one moment. That day, she learned 30 words.
Now Helen was too busy to be wild, and her brainpower shone through. Quickly, she learned words and then sentences. Soon she was able to communicate by signing the manual alphabet. But Helen wasn’t satisfied with signing alone. She wanted to learn to write. In addition to learning to write in braille, Helen placed a ruler on the page as a guide and drew very square block letters.
In 1888, Helen left home for the first time. She and Anne attended the Perkins School for the Blind as a guest of the director, Michael Anagnos. Helen became an overnight celebrity. However, her friendship with Anagnos suffered when she was accused of plagiarism (which means copying someone else’s writing and calling it your own). Helen had written a story entitled “The Frost King” for Anagnos’s birthday. It was a lot like a story Helen had heard once, long before, and perhaps she remembered parts of it without realizing it. Some people said Helen’s writing was just too good for someone who couldn’t see or hear nature with her own eyes and ears.
But Helen had spent most of her childhood outside! Anne had taught Helen many things outside of the classroom. She taught her to touch, smell, and experience nature. She wanted Helen to be curious, ask questions, and to discover the world around her. And, for the rest of her life, Helen loved to smell and touch flowers, to feel the wind on her face…she was curious about everything!
Try naming 39 countries—that’s how many nations Helen and Polly visited! This world tour was funded largely by the American Foundation for the Overseas Blind (now called Helen Keller Worldwide). Everywhere she went, Helen was greeted by throngs of children, as well as famous personalities such as the British leader Winston Churchill and the Indian Premier Jawaharlal Nehru. Centers were established in her name in countries such as India, the Soviet Union, and Egypt.
Helen’s life has been the subject of movies, books, and plays for many decades. In 1955, Helen received an Academy Award for the documentary about her life, Helen Keller in Her Story (originally called The Unconquered). In 1959, Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke starred in the Broadway play The Miracle Worker. The play, written by William Gibson, was based on Anne’s earliest efforts to teach Helen how to communicate. Three years later, Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke starred in a movie version of the play. Both women won Academy Awards for their performances.
Helen was a very spiritual woman. She believed that everyone from all races and cultures deserved the same rights. She died in her sleep in 1968.
Helen at the age of 7, 1887

Helen Keller and her teacher Anne Sullivan, 1898

Helen Keller at the age of 78, 1959

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Kevin Carter (September 13, 1960 – July 27, 1994) was an award-winning South African photojournalist and member of the Bang-Bang Club.
Carter has started to work as weekend sports photographer in 1983. In 1984 he moved on to work for the Johannesburg Star bent on exposing the brutality of apartheid.
Carter was the first to photograph a public execution by “necklacing” in South Africa in the mid-1980s. He later spoke of the images; “I was appalled at what they were doing. I was appalled at what I was doing. But then people started talking about those pictures… then I felt that maybe my actions hadn’t been at all bad. Being a witness to something this horrible wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing to do.”
In March 1993 Carter made a trip to southern Sudan. The sound of soft, high-pitched whimpering near the village of Ayod attracted Carter to a young emaciated Sudanese toddler. The girl had stopped to rest while struggling to a feeding center, wherein a vulture had landed nearby. He said that he waited about 20 minutes, hoping that the vulture would spread its wings. It didn’t. Carter snapped the haunting photograph and chased the vulture away. However, he also came under heavy criticism for just photographing — and not helping — the little girl:
“The man adjusting his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene.”
The photograph was sold to The New York Times where it appeared for the first time on March 26, 1993. Practically overnight hundreds of people contacted the newspaper to ask whether the child had survived, leading the newspaper to run a special editor’s note saying the girl had enough strength to walk away from the vulture, but that her ultimate fate was unknown.
On April 2, 1994 Nancy Buirski, a foreign New York Times picture editor, phoned Carter to inform him he had won the most coveted prize for photography. Carter was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography on May 23, 1994 at Columbia University’s Low Memorial Library.
On 27 July 1994 Carter drove to the Braamfonteinspruit river, near the Field and Study Centre, an area he used to play at as a child, and took his own life by taping one end of a hose to his pickup truck’s exhaust pipe and running the other end to the passenger-side window. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning at the age of 33. Portions of Carter’s suicide note read:
“I am depressed … without phone … money for rent … money for child support … money for debts … money!!! … I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain … of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners…I have gone to join Ken if I am that lucky.”

source: Wikipedia

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Ce ai mancat azi?

“Pune intr-un patut un copil mic, un mar si un iepure. Daca el va manca iepurele si se va juca cu marul, eu iti cumpar o masina noua.”
Harvey Diamond

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RELATIILE – de orice fel – sunt precum nisipul pe care il tii in mana. Daca il tii usor in causul deschis, el ramane acolo unde este. Dar in momentul in care strangi mana ca sa nu-l lasi sa scape, nisipul ti se strecoara printre degete. S-ar putea sa mai ramana ceva, dar cea mai mare parte din el se risipeste. Asa este si o relatiie. Daca o tii usor, o respecti si ii oferi libertate celeilalte persoane, este foarte probabil sa ramana asa cum este. Dar daca o tii prea strans, esti prea posesiv, relatia iti scapa printre degete si este pierduta.


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