When you first find yourself in Africa, it feels like you're going to see other people. But a few days pass, and it becomes clear that Africa is actually showing you yourself.
There is nothing exotic in these photos. More precisely, it exists, but it quickly ceases to be the main thing. Tattoos on the arms of the driver, white patterns on the faces of young men, an old man with stretched earlobes, children in bright clothes, shepherds among acacias, dancing at round huts — all this first attracts the eye, and then suddenly recedes into the background.
That leaves a man.
An old man leaning thoughtfully on a stick is not much different from any wise old man in a Russian village. A girl with a notebook by a mud-brick wall looks as seriously into the future as a schoolgirl in Tyumen. A boy running along the ocean shore is not running along the African coast or the Rwandan coast — he is just running towards life.
We are used to measuring civilizations by technology, cities, internet speed, and building height. But as you travel through Tanzania and Rwanda, you start to notice something else. What matters is not how different cultures are, but how much the same people remain.
Parents everywhere take care of their children.
Children are laughing everywhere.
Old people everywhere are remembering the past.
Young people everywhere are dreaming of the future.
Clothes, jewelry, languages, and rituals vary. But joy, curiosity, dignity, love, and anxiety look the same under any sky.
That's probably why traveling is not necessary to see the world. The world is already huge and infinitely diverse. They are needed in order to unexpectedly discover a simple thing among this diversity: human nature is much more unified than we think.
And then Africa ceases to be a distant continent.
She becomes a mirror.
Surprisingly, there are 14 years between these books. That's exactly how long Leo Tolstoy felt one cycle of human maturation constitutes. He had an almost intimate idea of dividing life into periods—conditional periods in which, every fourteen years, a person reaches a new level of understanding.
If, putting aside excessive modesty (briefly and strictly for scientific purposes), we apply this logic to ourselves, a curious picture emerges.
Quite early on, I realized that to truly help a large number of patients, I needed to go beyond the individual approach and create a methodology. I recall the words of Edith Piaf, who said, "I don't sing for everyone—I sing for everyone." And yet, she sang for everyone. So it was for me—there was that inspiration, that moment when the idea of phenotypic dermatology first arose. It was from this moment that the path to a systemic view of the skin began—not as a surface, but as an entire biological universe.
The invention relates to the field of pharmaceuticals and biology and represents a method for obtaining a viable heterogeneous population of skin cells, which includes taking a skin biopsy at a depth of ...
The history of dermatology remembers many attempts to transform human skin, a dense tissue, into a liquid. The search for a method to separate the skin's cellular substrate to obtain a suspension and study the phenotype of its constituent cells became the basis for a long-term research, resulting in a patented method for digitally assessing the subpopulation composition of skin cells - the skin cytoimmunogram... read the full article
