B. Why is it necessary to use a solid agar medium to obtain a pure culture of S. epidermidis?…
“I forbid you to ever go near the athletic track when you're under my roof.”…
Once upon a time I lived a semi normal life. The last day I lived that life was Thanksgiving of 2002. The people that made up my semi normal life was Papa, Nannie, Mom, Aunt Jodi, and me. As you may of concluded it was Thanksgiving, but this one wasn’t like the rest. We were going to Chicago to my Aunt Jackie and Uncle John’s house to have Thanksgiving dinner.…
A birthday party is a tradition that is celebrated differently in various cultures. Traditions are everywhere in the Mexican American culture, especially in the way that Mexican Americans celebrate their birthday parties. The Mexican American way of celebrating birthdays has experienced an acculturation effect since the adoption of the English language, rather than a loss in tradition or meaning. This is shown not…
In this paper, I will be discussing the impact of minor parties. Minor parties are political parties who have little to no impact on elections due to the amount of supporters and/or money is put into the party. However, in the United States, minor parties sometimes have a huge impact on politics and elections, whether it’s just getting their word out there and the major parties actually listen and discuss their issues, or they can even change which major party wins the election. Whatever the case may be, it shows that minor parties are just as effective as the major parties, although they have never come out on top. Just because they are minor, does not mean they have no say or no impact in government. They are just as important as the major parties, and they should always be taken into consideration during election time.…
New Year's eve was the first time meeting my Hispanic boyfriend's family, of course I had taken a few Spanish classes back in high school, but not even the most advanced class could have saved me here. As the night grew longer,the room began to flood with people. The live mariachi band was over the top and rambunctious;they were the life of the party, but I felt as if my ear drums were about to burst. Everyone was up and about dancing, chatting, eating and visiting with one another. It seemed like everywhere I looked I saw family and friends hugging and exchanging handshakes throughout the night! The room was filled with love and joy, everyone reminiscing over the years and catching up on lost times.…
Walking to our family suite, I feel like this trip might me a dud. I really didn’t want to hear them complain about work all night. Walking through the door, all three of their demeanors shift. Hearing a sudden pop from the champagne bottle opening, and them screaming, “Let the festivities begin.”…
As expected all us rejoiced the whole celebration together until the last serving of food and until the last drop of beer. Everybody was in the same wavelength excitement. Everyone has given the same satisfaction of happiness in seeing one another once again without the DATO-POBRE mentality.…
This experience taught me the origins of my culture and personality. At mealtime my grandmother would place huge amounts of various foods on the table. She told me I was too “худая” or “skinny” and encouraged me to eat more. Here in the United States being thin is considered normal while in Russia skinny people are a reminder of the malnourishment many faced under communist rule. Food symbolizes the present in a way that refuses to forget the past. I’ve always had more than enough, but my grandparents and mom know the feeling of barren shelves, stale produce, and going to bed hungry. My grandmother wanted us to eat as much food as we could as if we were making up for lost…
We finally arrived at my god-mother's house knowing that the long journey is over. I was just thinking about the drive back to my house. My siblings and I, each took a huge breath as we step out onto the crispy lawn hearing that crackling grass walking towards the door. The air was dry and humid, which created a sticky, dripping sweat down my spine. I was making my way toward the gloomy, wooden, front door, illuminated by all the decorations she had plastered. As I open the door and step into a house full of cheek pinches and hugs, an array of sweets and bake goods odor engulfs me, and makes my mouth water. As I greeted everyone with a simple, "Hello", I hear voices laughing, talking, and asking, "Who is at the door?" In the next second as I glanced into the family room, all seventy of my relatives are giving me there greetings and gladly inviting…
Three men were dressed in black with button up shirts and decorative sombreros all standing in the corner of the room. Two men had violins and the third was handling a guitar. As we took our seats the band started playing lively music and a few older couples got up and danced fearlessly. Everything in the restaurant was bold excluding my bashful personality; otherwise I would have danced too. I was in a trance watching the people dance with one another until the Mariachi band shouted in sync, “AY!” causing me to be brought back to the present. It was then that I had realized how hungry I…
My family would celebrate all the joy with a fest fit for kings. I can remember on the holidays my mother would wake up extra early and the house would smell of hand rolled biscuits that were smothered in butter, all the spices and smells of poultry filled the house and wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. My family would eat and eat tell we couldn’t move to what I thought was normal. From grandmother to mother to daughter we were programmed to know your way around the kitchen. Julie Dash in “Rice Culture” embellished “Everyone could cook, the men, woman, and children. It was unheard of not to be able to throw down in the kitchen.” (PG139) Having family traditions passed down and the way I watched my mother cook was like I was programed like a remote. Feeling as if I had to stay tuned in like that overwhelming series that has you eager on the edge of your seats. Every dish was cooked with butter, grease or came from a box, which turned into a routine. Instead of eating a fruit or vegetables for a snack, I would pop in a TV dinner to get that satisfaction of being full, knowing I wouldn’t go hungry but for that simple fact of choice. That TV dinner was now an afternoon tradition that rejoiced my child hood with joy. Connie Shultz in “Heat, Tray, Love” stated “Oh, the unrivaled joy that leapt from the heart of a child used to be whenever that ridge of…
According to Pineda & Quimpo (2012) “Filipino food may not be as famous as that of its Thai and Vietnamese neighbors. But with more than 7,000 islands and a colorful history, this archipelago has some delicious dishes of its own.”…
wine as drinking spree as climax of happiness among Filipinos and their visitors in the first class city and…
Our house was a buzz of excitement. Relatives from all over the world visited and offered their assistance. The dining-room table was laid with delectable treats and thirst-quenching drinks. The sound of laughter filled every corner. Mum scurried around, busy as a bee, ensuring every little detail was organized.…