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Monday, 12 May 2014

The ubiquity of the modern beep



Annoying noise
We're surrounded by beeps. From reversing vehicles to supermarket checkouts to trains, they punctuate our day. But what's the story behind them?
The word "beep" is not very old. The onomatopoeic expression of "beep-beep" for a car horn only goes back to 1929, according to the Oxford English Dictionary. And the use of "beep" in the sense of a short, high-pitched sound is first recorded in an Arthur C Clarke science-fiction story in 1951.
The post-war proliferation of electronic devices has allowed a massive proliferation of mid-level warning noises. Once upon a time, bells and sirens were announcements that something fairly major was happening. They might have started a drill or indicated a large and dangerous industrial machine was being started up.
But the modern beep is something different. It's often a mere "alert". They still warn and announce but it might be something as mundane as the doors on a train opening. There's an extraordinary plethora of them.
And like every other area of our life touched by technology, the world of beeps is a constant flux of redesign and revision. Hordes of sound designers around the world are at work creating the "perfect" beep.
Some of the least annoying beeps are designedly so. For instance, the beep that - on some cars - alerts you to the central locking having been activated.
Teams of researchers are involved in creating individual "sound palettes" for cars, says the University of Maastricht's Prof Karin Bijsterveld, an expert in car sounds. Rather than seeking out "perfect" beeps and sounds, acoustic engineers and psycho-acoustics specialists endeavour to match the right sound with the right product or action.
Virgin pendolino
This applies also to the beeps made by domestic appliances, computers and supermarket checkout tills.
Yet if so much thought goes into the beeps of the modern world, why do so many people find them annoying?

Blind people and bleeps

For blind people and those with partial sight, beeps can be vitally important.
Natalie Doig, who is partially sighted and the campaigns officer for the Royal National Institute of Blind People, said the beeps made by cash machines - pin entry and card and cash return - were essential.
So too are the beeps on entertainment systems, washing machines, dishwashers, mobile telephones, self-service ticket machines and coffee makers.
Car alarms, sirens and reversing vehicle alarms, however, can be disorientating for blind and partially sighted people, says Doig.
Take reversing vehicle warnings. "Beep, beep, beep - people hate the sound of them," says Chris Hanson-Abbott, one of the people who helped popularise the invention. He was inspired to give up his career in shipping back in 1976 after seeing a man in Japan using a makeshift reversing alarm. It was a serious issue, says Hanson-Abbott. "An awful lot of people were being killed."
In the early days a "good beep" for a reversing alarm, says Hanson-Abbott, chairman and founder of Brigade Electronics, was simply one that could be heard far and wide. Sound palettes, psycho-acoustic research and sensory experiences were not part of the equation.
Ever since they started to proliferate in the 1980s, reversing alarms - most typically used in goods vehicles - were a steadily growing source of complaints, peaking in the late 1990s. They add up to that soundscape of annoyance that challenges the patience of millions.
In 2012, there was a reversing alarm flashpoint in Colne, Lancashire, with residents at loggerheads with a local supermarket. One commentator told the Lancashire Telegraph: "[The residents] have to go work and they are being woken up early and then can't get back to sleep. They go to work tired, they come home tired and then it happens all over again. It is horrendous for them."
Reversing truck
Hanson Abbott is sympathetic. "The sound tonal alarms make is very annoying," he says. Of course, he says, that has always been part of the point. They are meant to be heard and not ignored.
But complaints about his alarms, and a growing awareness of noise pollution in general, got Hanson-Abbott thinking about alternatives. He now hopes to kill off reversing beeps for good and replace single tones with "broadband" or "white" sound. Emitting a range of up to 100 frequencies, broadband sound resembles the crash of an ocean wave, albeit in short, staccato bursts. "It sounds a lot nicer," he says.
Sometimes it's the mystifying nature of the beeps that has the potential to annoy. For instance, sit in the "quiet coach" on a Pendolino train (where beeping from mobiles and laptops of passengers is not allowed) and get ready for a beautifully silent beep-free journey.
Good luck with that. Trains like the Pendolino treat passengers to an occasional but piercing series of beeps. One configuration presages an announcement from the train manager. The others don't and leave the passengers mystified.
Some message board theorists wonder if these beeps are a lavatory distress call. They are not. Typically, they are crew-to-crew communications. Most often, say Virgin Trains, which are one of the companies that run Pendolinos, they are heard when the driver wants to speak to staff elsewhere on the train.
But the train beeps are occasional intrusions. There are other beeps that we have heard many thousands of.
Take the supermarket checkout beep. With the advent of the barcode scanner has come a beep for every purchase. Millions of beeps, every day. The beeps are there to confirm items have been scanned. They're necessary.
Mobile phones
It's the beeps from mobile telephones that perhaps generate the most consistent resentment. With the ability to switch off beeps for each key strike on most phones, leaving them on almost seems like a wilful act of odious noise pollution.
With smartphones, there is a beep or sound for pretty much everything. Fully charged. Beep. Low on battery. Beep. Text message received. Beep.
The telephone beeps of others are most annoying in confined spaces such as trains, says Bruce Williamson, of Rail Future. "When passengers sit in a carriage they feel a little bit stuck."
And the beeps continue even in our own houses. Smoke and carbon monoxide alarms are a great source of beeping. Many householders have been on hours-long fingertip searches of drawers and cupboards before finally locating a discarded alarm.
But again the insistency of the beeping on a smoke alarm running out of batteries is for a very good reason. The beeps that warn you after two minutes that a microwave has finished microwaving? Arguably not so much.
Pedestrian crossing
So prolific are beeps now in modern life, that some places, including airports and airlines, are cutting down.
"Our announcements are certainly targeted," a spokesman for London Stansted Airport says. "We make fewer announcements in the main terminal building. We do of course still make certain ones such as security announcements." And Ryanair has introduced "quiet flights" between 22:00 and 07:00 where only safety announcements will be made.
This is a step in the right direction, according to Father Alexander da Costa Fernandes, a Benedictine monk at Worth Abbey. "One of the big dangers in modern life is that there is so much distraction and so much constant stimulation that it keeps us at the surface of things.
"There is a part of ourselves that needs silence and needs space in order just to develop and grow. What much of modern life does is it removes that silence. A lot of people do not know what they are missing."

The wisdom of barbers


BBC
The trade of barbering is one of the world's oldest professions. The history of the trade varies depending on which culture is telling it, but barbers featured in ancient Greece and Rome, when their shops served as social centres and hubs for gossip.
In Europe, barbers for many centuries doubled as surgeons, blood-letting, abscess-lancing and wound-dressing as required. The trades eventually separated, but even today London's Worshipful Company of Barbers operates out of Barber-Surgeon Hall.
Barbers can range from the elite to the simple, and to their loyal customers they remain valued sources of gossip, information and even wisdom. Journalists love gossip too, so reporters from six of the BBC's language services went looking for ordinary barbers with exceptional stories.
Do you have a favourite story about a barber you've met anywhere in the world? Have you had a close shave in an unlikely location? Share them with us using #barberwisdom on social media, or use the form below.
Buenos Aires, Argentina:

How many barbers are there?

Calculating an accurate number of global barbers is tricky. Apparently it's a classic management school question. Take the number of men in the world and multiply by the number of haircuts they need per year. Then divide by the number of haircuts a barber could reasonably do in a year. Finally (the tricky bit) adjust for bald men, under-twos, Sikhs and those who cut their own hair.
The BBC's guess? Seven million, for what it's worth (which probably isn't very much).

Miguel Angel Barnes is known as the "Earl of Caballito", the Buenos Aires neighbourhood where his shop is based.
Part barber shop, part coffee bar, part museum and cultural centre, Miguel's salon takes his customers back in time several decades.
Producer: Macarena Gagliardi. Camera: Emiliano Fabris
Dakar, Senegal: The footballer's barber

Inside the shop

Tita de Barros is a fun character - an outgoing, generous guy who welcomes regulars to his barber shop as if he was entertaining old friends. He says being a barber relies on trust and friendship, because "you have to trust someone to let him hold a razor blade to your throat".

Some barbers get asked to cut hair in the style of the world's best footballers. Tita de Barros had another plan - he would ask some of the best footballers in the world if he could cut their hair.
Armed only with a pair of clippers and his irrepressible enthusiasm for Senegal's national team, Tita became the nation's travelling barber and a local celebrity before giving it all up and returning to his shop.
Producer: Laeila Adjovi. Camera: Loic Hocquet
Hanoi, Vietnam: Underneath the banyan tree

On the street

There are more street barbers in Hanoi than in the country's other cities. Most are middle-aged and work alone. Sometimes they sit in a pair around street corners. They aren't officially licensed but don't really bother local authorities and police. Dzung was friendly and confident being filmed for the first time. Unfortunately I had my hair cut before I left London, but I would definitely try him next time I am in Hanoi.

Vietnamese barbers have particular traditions unfamiliar in the West, including shaving the fine hairs on the forehead and ears. Dzung, a veteran street barber in Hanoi, Vietnam, offers haircuts under the shelter of a giant banyan tree.
Producer: Hoang Nguyen. Camera: Le Thanh Tung
Lahore, Pakistan: A touch of style

Inside the salon

"Babloo" is one of the favourite saloons of fashion divas and "Lollywood" stars. I stayed there for a couple of hours and during this time I met some famous models and actors. Some of them came to get their hair done, but some visited just to take Babloo's advice for styling and photo shoots.

Pakistan may not be the first place that comes to mind when we think of high fashion. But Lahore has a thriving fashion scene, one in which Babloo's well-known salon plays a key role.
Producer: Shumaila Jaffrey
Delhi, India: Circle of life

On the riverbank

Abdul Hameed is an example of India's multi-lingual, multi-religious make-up. He hails from the north, speaks Hindustani (a mix of Urdu and Hindi), is a practising Muslim and happens to be an essential part of the most important Hindu rituals. Indian Hindus believe in shaving the birth hair of a baby, and this is always done by the local barbers - who have traditionally been Muslims.


In Delhi, Abdul Hameed is the third generation of his family to work as a barber. He had hoped to educate his children, but instead he now hopes his grandchildren will get the knowledge they need to find a more lucrative profession.
Producers: Parul Agrawal and Shalu Yadav
Cairo, Egypt: The barber-surgeon
Moftah has been cutting hair for most of his life. Now almost 80, he remembers a time when barbers virtually acted as doctors, taking on the responsibility for small-scale operations that would make many modern stylists wince.
Producers: Ranyah Sabry, Cherif Albert
Series producer: Adam Blenford
Do you have a favourite story about a barber you've met anywhere in the world? Have you had a close shave in an unlikely location? Share them with us using #barberwisdom on social media, or send an email to haveyoursay@bbc.co.uk adding 'barberwisdom' in the subject line.
Or use the form below.
Send your pictures and videos to yourpics@bbc.co.uk or text them to 61124 (UK) or +44 7624 800 100 (International). If you have a large file you can upload here.

Against the odds – the quadruplets born to refugees fleeing their home


Parents holding their quadruplets
Having quadruplets is never easy - but imagine trying to look after four new-born babies in a refugee camp.
In January 2013, Massaya Ag Iliyass, a farmer from Mole in central Mali, and his wife Taghri Walet Tokeye, gathered up their six children and a few blankets, and fled. Three of the children could walk - the others had to be carried. A friend had lent them a donkey and the younger children took turns sitting on its back.
They walked for five days and five nights. "It was a very long way and exhausting," says Massaya. "We had to walk slowly so we wouldn't tire them out, and we rested as much as we could."
Half the village fled at the same time. "There was no food - all the shops and markets were empty," says Taghri.
They were fleeing both soldiers and Tuareg rebels. "Among them there are a lot of bad people, who rob people of their possessions and attack them," she says. "If they wanted to have one of our animals and we refused, they might kill us."
Map
Their destination was Mbera refugee camp, just across the border in Mauritania. They were part of a wave of 15,000 refugees that arrived in the camp that month alone.
When they first arrived, conditions were harsh. Some 60,000 refugees were trying to survive in 50C (122F) heat in the middle of the desert. There were shortages of water and food.
Mbera refugee campTaghri and Massaya, together with their six children, were among the thousands who fled the conflict in Mali to seek safety in Mauritania's Mbera refugee camp.
Taghri soon realised she was pregnant but it felt different to her other pregnancies. "I could feel I was bigger," she says. "So I knew there was something more to it." An ultrasound revealed she was expecting quadruplets.
When asked how that made her feel, Taghri laughs for a long time. "It was very good news to hear that," she says eventually.

Find out more

  • Taghri and Massaya spoke to the BBC World Service programme Outlook
  • Outlook airs Mon-Thurs
  • Tells personal stories from around the world
The medical staff in the camp were very excited. "In my whole life I have never come across quadruplets," says Dr Kasonga Cheride, the surgeon from the charity Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF) who looked after the family.
Despite the tough conditions, being a refugee probably saved Taghri's life. "If we hadn't been there, she would definitely have died, and the children too," says Cheride. Two of the babies were in the breech position so they had to be delivered by caesarean section at the MSF operating theatre in Bassikounou, 17km away.

Start Quote

If we hadn't been there, she would definitely have died, and the children too”
Dr Cheride, surgeonMedecins Sans Frontieres
A quadruplet pregnancy is always high-risk and requires careful planning. Early delivery by elective caesarean is common practice to prevent an emergency situation - such as the mother going into labour far from medical help.
Taghri's pregnancy was allowed to continue for as long as possible but at 35 weeks - five weeks early - the babies were born.
"The atmosphere was one of joy for everybody," says Cheride. "It was the first time any of us had been faced with quads, so there was great curiosity… the best moment for me was when we got all four babies out safely and in a good state."
"I felt no pain at all," says Taghri who had an epidural anaesthetic and was awake throughout. Nobody cried - apart from the babies.
There is no doubt that the quads have a special place in the hearts of the medical team. Cheride reels off their vital statistics as if they were the only babies he'd ever delivered. They were a promising weight at birth, between 3lb 15oz (1.8kg) and 5lb 6oz (2.45kg) - the average weight for quadruplets in the UK is 3lb 1oz (1.4kg).
quadruplets The quadruplets were born in an MSF operating theatre in Bassikounou camp.
Massaya, the father, wasn't there for the delivery - he was out herding sheep - but came as soon as he could. "I felt extreme joy," he says. "I was very happy - so happy it's difficult to express in words."
Taghri managed to breastfeed. "It wasn't very difficult because I'm used to it," she says. "But the nurses really helped and did some bottle feeding on top."
Cheride says MSF has done everything it can for them to grow big and healthy. "Obviously they are special, and our hope is that we can see them grow up. That will give us great pleasure."
Three boys and a girl, the quads are now four months old and still healthy - they weigh between 10lb 6oz (4.7kg) and 13lb 14oz (6.3kg).

How rare are quadruplets?

  • Rates of triplet and higher order births in Europe range from 0.1 to 1.5 per 1,000 women
  • In Western countries multiple births have increased due to fertility treatment.
  • Quadruplets are still very rare - one study found 12 quads out of 2.5 million births in low and middle-income countries.
  • Some African countries have higher twinning rates. Benin has the highest incidence of twins in the world, and the Yoruba in Nigeria are also more likely to have twins.
After four months of special care, the family has now left the medical centre and returned to the refugee camp. It is challenging. The parents and their 10 children live in one swelteringly hot tent.
"There is someone who helps with the children but it's very difficult to sleep at the moment," says Taghri.
Two of the quads, Fatim and Oumar are very calm, says Massaya. "However the other two, Ousmane and Aboubakrine, are very naughty - they cry a lot and only calm down when someone holds them in their arms."
The six older siblings seem happy with the babies and carry them around. Taghri is unsure of her other children's ages. "All we know is when we had our first son."
a nurse tends to the quadrupletsOn January 4, 2014, babies 1, 2, 3 and 4 (as they were called before being given names) were delivered in the MSF operating theatre. Nurse Sylvie N'Goran took care of them for the first four months.
"The only thing that would help us would be finding work," says Taghri. "My dream would be to open a shop." She used to be a seamstress but no longer has any equipment - although it's hard to see how she would get the time to sew, with four babies and six children to look after.
Massaya goes out to work when he can but this presents problems too. "When I'm not in the camp I can't apply for food rations," he says. Luckily they are not alone. "We have some really good neighbours who look after my wife and children."
But his outlook is still bleak. "I don't have much hope for the future of my children. At the moment I really have nothing so I can't hope for any future for them," he says.
parents with their ten childrenThe arrival of the quadruplets represents hope, but also a big challenge. The family have 10 children now.
The UN refugee agency (UNHCR), which runs Mbera camp, is working to change that. "We don't want refugees to be dependent on aid," says Elise Villechalane, a UNHCR spokeswoman in Mauritania. "We are trying to encourage income-generating activities such as a factory making cooking stoves. We also promote vocational training and provide them with kit such as a sewing machine."

Four babies? It's overwhelming

the quadruplets at home
Emma Robbins was shocked to discover she was having quadruplets when she went for a routine scan in Bristol, UK. "I was happy, but it's overwhelming," she says. Emma stayed in hospital for the last six weeks of her pregnancy until the quads were delivered at 29 weeks, on 29 February 2012. Reuben, Joshua, Zachary and Samuel weighed between 2lb 8oz (1.1kg), and 3lb 1oz (1.4kg). Emma expressed 2 litres of breast milk a day until the babies learned to suckle. When the boys came home from hospital, Emma and her husband Martin were locked into a punishing night schedule, feeding the boys every three to four hours. They snatched 45 minutes sleep between feeds, then got up at 6am to tend to their toddler, Luke. They went through 32 bottles of milk a day and 150-200 nappies a week.
Only one of Massaya's children goes to school, and Villechalane acknowledges that too few children are getting an education in the camp - just 40% are in primary school. But plans are afoot to improve access to secondary and even tertiary education.
A curriculum has been developed for the Mbera refugees based on the Malian education system. "It is encouraging because it means they are preparing to return to Mali," says Villechalane. However the Mauritanian education authority advised including two subjects in Arabic to give refugees the opportunity to integrate in their host country, just in case they stay.
Although the stream of refugees into the camp has been reduced to a trickle, continuing tensions in northern Mali mean that not many are returning home just yet.
Massaya can't imagine going back at this point. "We have to accept that we are living in a camp and that we are refugees," he says. "We carry on."
Taghri and Massaya spoke to Outlook on the BBC World Service. Listen again on iPlayer orget the Outlook podcast.
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Produced for the BBC by Michael Maher
First Person is a series of video features published every Monday on the BBC News website which tells the stories of unique individuals from all walks of life in their own words.