A few days ago I saw a small plane, and a few days before that, a helicopter. I realized I haven't seen or heard any other flying machines in quite some time, and that quite a few things about my day-to-day experiences are quite different. Here are a few:
It's been about a month since there's been a day with no rain, though today may prove to be the exception.
I've hardly watched any TV or movies since I've been here. I did watch 90 minutes of excellent soccer today -- Yay Barca!
I never experience hot or cold except to a minimal extent -- it's always pleasant here.
I haven't felt heating or air-conditioning for quite some time. A little when I was in Honduras.
I very rarely travel in motorized vehicles and haven't driven in nearly 2 months. I walk many times as far here as I do in the States.
I no longer think it's strange to travel standing up in the back of a pickup with 10 of 15 other people, almost all of whom are at least a foot shorter than I am.
I no longer think it's uncomfortable to sit 3 people to a seat on a bus, touching the person in the seat across from you except when the guy collecting money has to squeeze down the aisle.
I am not surprised when nine out of ten vehicles I see are tuc-tucs.
I don't work out with weights here. I really miss that.
I haven't been in a large supermarket my whole time here. The only produce section I know is the market.
I never have a bottomless coffee in restaurants or diners any more. I had coffee with breakfast in a comedor a few weeks back. It was lukewarm and barely had any flavor.
I eat fried chicken regularly. I never eat it back home. Here, it's freshly killed and freshly cooked. It's so good! God only knows where it comes from in the states.
Pork is not seen in Santiago. There are some pigs in other towns.
I haven't had flour tortillas since I've been here, with one exception. Geneen bought some at a Gringo Market. They were awful, not the fresh ones we get in Tucson. But the corn tortillas here are fantastic, hot off the plancha!
I think it's odd when I see women in athletic wear. Aside from a few foreigners and people from the city, women wear corte and guipil (traditional dress) here.
It's been months since I believed anyone when they said something would begin at a certain time, or be completed within a certain time frame.
I am fully used to seeing garbage strewn all ove the place, and buying things with mcuh less packaging.
I am no longer amazed when I discover that adults, who work in technical fields, have no idea how much six times seven is.
I don't want to grow insensitive to all the dogs whose flesh is wasting away as they convert what little food they get into milk for their puppies.
It's been a long time since I thought public urination was strange, or seeing topless women washing their laundry in the lake was unusual. I've stopped wondering whether the crap in the streets is doggie-doo...
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Geneen and Neus go to Xela; John and his math class
I was going to write an entry about how I haven't been robbed, and I still haven't, but Geneen has.
She and Neus went to Xela for the night, and the following morning were in the market by the bus station. The market was so crowded that you were pushed or pulled in every direction, constantly touching other bodies on all sides. She had a Q$100 not in a zippered pcket on her thigh and several more bills in the outside zipper pocket of her purse. Both locations were cleaned out, she doesn't know when.
I asked about her credit card and ATM card. They were safe inside her purse. You have to wonder why at least some cash wasn't in a safer place, but it wasn't a big loss, probably about $30 or $40. It left her without any money, but fortunately she wasn't traveling alone, and Neus keeps her money "where the bats dwell".
Mostly, Geneen has hurt feelings that the country where she is volunteering would treat her so badly, but she's getting over it quickly.
I decide to make yesterday my last day teaching math for the 6th graders in Chacayá. It's a great class and I'm having a lot of fun, but I need to back up and evaluate. Here's what we've done in my 5 classes there: add 8s and 9s, then 18s and 19s, then subtract (mental math); sequences and addition with negatives; sequences in general; and, basic understanding of fractions. The last topic was the worst. I thought I presented simply and clearly, but the rate of response was worse than normal. Even among the few that are not shy about trying to respond, they tended to be wrong. Which is more, 3/4 or 1/4? By the time you're 12, that should be pretty simple...
Anyhow, I ended Wednesday by taking out a plate of 24 brownies. We spent an hour Monday on fractions and an hour Wednesday. I'd just assigned them a few problems comparing fractions. What's the answer to number 1? A small boy near the back of the class, who's pretty vocal, volunteered the correct answer. "Come up front," I instructed him. I whipped out my cleaver. "For those that don't behave well!" I got a laugh.
I showed him a sign with 3 fractions -- 1/4, 2/8, 7/8. Choose how much you want. He wanted 7/8 of the brownie. I gave him a whole one to save myself trouble. The class definitely perked up with this. After 6 or 7, I started randomly picking people. It was clear everyone would get a turn. Finally, someone chose a low fraction, I think 3/8. I cut the brownie in eighths, scooped three pieces toward her, ate a piece myself and gave the rest to the classroom teacher, Cruz Pablo.
Poor kid. Soon after, another student joined her in choosing poorly. I had enough left to give each a whole brownie later...
I'm still teaching English at the Hospitalito, math for the nurses and a good bit of tutoring. I am hoping to reevaluate my numeracy ideas and jump back in in a few weeks with younger kids.
My initial thoughts on my success with the 6th graders: Overall, good. I think it's fantastic for them to get exposure to someone from another culture, to another style. The education here continues to be very much rote learning. This class was great when I asked them to copy from the board into their notebooks, but if I asked for a bit of creative problem solving, well.... ouch! So that's what I want to rethink. My ideas on math itself are pretty solid. I don't want my students to memorize formulas and algorithms. I want them to understand the logic behind patterns in numbers, to understand mathematical balance and relative size. That's what numeracy is all about for me. If you can have 7/8 of the money we earn together, or 8/100, which would you rather have?
She and Neus went to Xela for the night, and the following morning were in the market by the bus station. The market was so crowded that you were pushed or pulled in every direction, constantly touching other bodies on all sides. She had a Q$100 not in a zippered pcket on her thigh and several more bills in the outside zipper pocket of her purse. Both locations were cleaned out, she doesn't know when.
I asked about her credit card and ATM card. They were safe inside her purse. You have to wonder why at least some cash wasn't in a safer place, but it wasn't a big loss, probably about $30 or $40. It left her without any money, but fortunately she wasn't traveling alone, and Neus keeps her money "where the bats dwell".
Mostly, Geneen has hurt feelings that the country where she is volunteering would treat her so badly, but she's getting over it quickly.
---------Last Day Teaching (for now)-----------
I decide to make yesterday my last day teaching math for the 6th graders in Chacayá. It's a great class and I'm having a lot of fun, but I need to back up and evaluate. Here's what we've done in my 5 classes there: add 8s and 9s, then 18s and 19s, then subtract (mental math); sequences and addition with negatives; sequences in general; and, basic understanding of fractions. The last topic was the worst. I thought I presented simply and clearly, but the rate of response was worse than normal. Even among the few that are not shy about trying to respond, they tended to be wrong. Which is more, 3/4 or 1/4? By the time you're 12, that should be pretty simple...
Anyhow, I ended Wednesday by taking out a plate of 24 brownies. We spent an hour Monday on fractions and an hour Wednesday. I'd just assigned them a few problems comparing fractions. What's the answer to number 1? A small boy near the back of the class, who's pretty vocal, volunteered the correct answer. "Come up front," I instructed him. I whipped out my cleaver. "For those that don't behave well!" I got a laugh.
I showed him a sign with 3 fractions -- 1/4, 2/8, 7/8. Choose how much you want. He wanted 7/8 of the brownie. I gave him a whole one to save myself trouble. The class definitely perked up with this. After 6 or 7, I started randomly picking people. It was clear everyone would get a turn. Finally, someone chose a low fraction, I think 3/8. I cut the brownie in eighths, scooped three pieces toward her, ate a piece myself and gave the rest to the classroom teacher, Cruz Pablo.
Poor kid. Soon after, another student joined her in choosing poorly. I had enough left to give each a whole brownie later...
I'm still teaching English at the Hospitalito, math for the nurses and a good bit of tutoring. I am hoping to reevaluate my numeracy ideas and jump back in in a few weeks with younger kids.
My initial thoughts on my success with the 6th graders: Overall, good. I think it's fantastic for them to get exposure to someone from another culture, to another style. The education here continues to be very much rote learning. This class was great when I asked them to copy from the board into their notebooks, but if I asked for a bit of creative problem solving, well.... ouch! So that's what I want to rethink. My ideas on math itself are pretty solid. I don't want my students to memorize formulas and algorithms. I want them to understand the logic behind patterns in numbers, to understand mathematical balance and relative size. That's what numeracy is all about for me. If you can have 7/8 of the money we earn together, or 8/100, which would you rather have?
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Volcano: Take One
I had been staring at Volcán Atitlán for some time, and admiring the lush cloud forest that covers it. Saturday evening, I decided to dedicate Sunday to meandering around in that cloud forest, and maybe looking for a route to the top.
I found the coordinates of the top online; it's only 5 miles from Las Milpas! Of course, that doesn't take elevation into account. I let it slip out that I was going to climb the volcano, and was told horror stories of robberies and assaults. I figured, I won't take much. A few bucks, my GPS, camera and cell phone. I'd hate to lose any of those, but they're just things, and I'd need them for the hike.
So Sunday at 6 am, I set out. I walked to the road the shoots east from Panabaj towards Chicacao. After an hour of walking, I was on a trail that went in the direction of the volcano. A few minutes later I was back on the road. The trail was a shortcut. Then a pickup truck drove up. "Where are you going?" "I'm going to hike around on the volcano." "There are a lot of thieves there. You'll get assaulted. Do you want us to give you a lift back to Santiago?"
"No, I'll watch out. Is there a trail that goes to the top?"
There happened to be one a few meters away, so I was back into the coffee and corn fields.
Half an hour later I heard a noise. There was a man with a machete in a patch of woods. Here we go. From fifty meters away I said, "Hola, amigo."
"Where are you going?"
"For a walk. Towards the volcano. Can I pass through?"
"You can't get to the top of the volcano on this path. You have to back to the road, go a few hundred meters along it, then go up that path. This will get you to the front of the volcano only."
He assured me I could still hike pretty far, and that there were less thieves this way, though sometimes one still encounters them.
I plodded forward. Eventually the cultivated areas gave way to woods, and the bird calls were amazing. This is an area where the resplendent quetzal is occasionally seen, though I didn't get that lucky.
The trail met up with the mudslide zone of 2005, the derrumbe that ruined the old Hospitalito with much of Panabaj. I stepped in quicksand at one point and my foot sank eight inches, then hit rock. No big deal, but what a surprise when you think you're steeing on something solid and it's just like a liquid.
As the washed out are got steeper, there were more obstacles to climb over or around, until eventually there was one that seemed insurmountable. I turned back there, about a mile and a half from the summit.
On the way down, there was a farmer preparing a bundle of some plant to carry down. He was about to put what was probably 50 pounds of it on his back. We chatted for a minute, and I went along. A few minutes later I heard his steps behind me. With the bundle, he was going much faster than I was. We descended together. He told me he's 68, he's been up the volcano many times, would be happy to be a guide for a fee. We talked about how I'm looking for a new place to rent -- he gave me some names of people to contact about houses for rent. We talked about Maximon, the local idol, who is now in Tzanchaj (south of Panabaj).
He said he'd give me his phone number so I could contact him about being a guide. When his trail turned off from mine, I asked him for it, ready to type it in to my phone.
"Well, I don't know it."
I found the coordinates of the top online; it's only 5 miles from Las Milpas! Of course, that doesn't take elevation into account. I let it slip out that I was going to climb the volcano, and was told horror stories of robberies and assaults. I figured, I won't take much. A few bucks, my GPS, camera and cell phone. I'd hate to lose any of those, but they're just things, and I'd need them for the hike.
So Sunday at 6 am, I set out. I walked to the road the shoots east from Panabaj towards Chicacao. After an hour of walking, I was on a trail that went in the direction of the volcano. A few minutes later I was back on the road. The trail was a shortcut. Then a pickup truck drove up. "Where are you going?" "I'm going to hike around on the volcano." "There are a lot of thieves there. You'll get assaulted. Do you want us to give you a lift back to Santiago?"
"No, I'll watch out. Is there a trail that goes to the top?"
There happened to be one a few meters away, so I was back into the coffee and corn fields.
Half an hour later I heard a noise. There was a man with a machete in a patch of woods. Here we go. From fifty meters away I said, "Hola, amigo."
"Where are you going?"
"For a walk. Towards the volcano. Can I pass through?"
"You can't get to the top of the volcano on this path. You have to back to the road, go a few hundred meters along it, then go up that path. This will get you to the front of the volcano only."
He assured me I could still hike pretty far, and that there were less thieves this way, though sometimes one still encounters them.
I plodded forward. Eventually the cultivated areas gave way to woods, and the bird calls were amazing. This is an area where the resplendent quetzal is occasionally seen, though I didn't get that lucky.
The trail met up with the mudslide zone of 2005, the derrumbe that ruined the old Hospitalito with much of Panabaj. I stepped in quicksand at one point and my foot sank eight inches, then hit rock. No big deal, but what a surprise when you think you're steeing on something solid and it's just like a liquid.
As the washed out are got steeper, there were more obstacles to climb over or around, until eventually there was one that seemed insurmountable. I turned back there, about a mile and a half from the summit.
On the way down, there was a farmer preparing a bundle of some plant to carry down. He was about to put what was probably 50 pounds of it on his back. We chatted for a minute, and I went along. A few minutes later I heard his steps behind me. With the bundle, he was going much faster than I was. We descended together. He told me he's 68, he's been up the volcano many times, would be happy to be a guide for a fee. We talked about how I'm looking for a new place to rent -- he gave me some names of people to contact about houses for rent. We talked about Maximon, the local idol, who is now in Tzanchaj (south of Panabaj).
He said he'd give me his phone number so I could contact him about being a guide. When his trail turned off from mine, I asked him for it, ready to type it in to my phone.
"Well, I don't know it."
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Geneen at Hospitalito Atitlán
Geneen, my wife, is an RN, and works 40 hour weeks as a volunteer at the hospitalito. She had worked several days in a row, and finally had Monday off. She was nearing burnout, and I was glad she was scheduled to have Tuesday off as well.
We go to bed early here. There's not much to do. Often, the music from one of several evangelical churches bounds across the water and through the cabin walls, making an early bedtime difficult, but that was not the case Monday. We were sound asleep at 10:30 when my phone rang. Geneen was called in to work to escort a patient to Guatemala City.
When the hospitalito gets a difficult case, they send the patient either to Sololá, about an hour away, or the capital, about 3 hours away. The patient, about 20 years old, had a large amount of fluid in her lungs, and needed assistance in breathing. The ordeal was so stressful for Geneen, that, on the highway, she had to have the ambulance stop so she could get out and vomit.
Upon arriving at the larger facility, the receiving nurse chastised Geneen for not removing the patient's jewelry. The fact that this was the first thing the nurse said was disturbing to Geneen. The ambulance crew left, and on the way back Geneen got to witness the beauty of the dawn. Lots of birds, beautiful fields, a smoldering volcano...
Then they got a call from the capital. The patient had died, and the ambulance crew had to tell the family to go back and get the corpse.
We go to bed early here. There's not much to do. Often, the music from one of several evangelical churches bounds across the water and through the cabin walls, making an early bedtime difficult, but that was not the case Monday. We were sound asleep at 10:30 when my phone rang. Geneen was called in to work to escort a patient to Guatemala City.
When the hospitalito gets a difficult case, they send the patient either to Sololá, about an hour away, or the capital, about 3 hours away. The patient, about 20 years old, had a large amount of fluid in her lungs, and needed assistance in breathing. The ordeal was so stressful for Geneen, that, on the highway, she had to have the ambulance stop so she could get out and vomit.
Upon arriving at the larger facility, the receiving nurse chastised Geneen for not removing the patient's jewelry. The fact that this was the first thing the nurse said was disturbing to Geneen. The ambulance crew left, and on the way back Geneen got to witness the beauty of the dawn. Lots of birds, beautiful fields, a smoldering volcano...
Then they got a call from the capital. The patient had died, and the ambulance crew had to tell the family to go back and get the corpse.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Communal Living
Geneen and I live in a cabin in a little compund called Las Milpas close to the Hospitalito. At Las Milpas there are 6 rental units, and, together with other neighbors, most nights we have a communal dinner. Cooking for 10-15 people can be a bit of work, but you only do it once a week or so, and often enlist the help of other. Two nights ago, one of the doctors orchestrated a very labor-intensive Polish meal, consisting of Pirogi and a cabbage dish. Pirogi are a lot of work, as we made dough, filling, everything from scratch. Worth the effort, though! Then Geneen and I made eggplant Parmesan, which was also a big hit. Broccoli with garlic and sesame, fresh fruits, cake for dessert. Last night was a fantastic tofu curry. I made chicken mole a few weeks back. I am salivating as I type...
There are usually visitors as well as us regulars, and there is often Guatemalan beer and rum, Chilean wine, and sometimes something odd (but good) such as Pitahaya wine. the communal dinner and subsequent conversations and clean up occupies our time from about 6pm to 9pm. I'm usually in bed by then!
The pitahaya flower.
The bad news -- Las Milpas, which is currently owned by an heir to the Pabst brewing company, is being sold within a month. The family buying it will occupy the house, leaving the rest of the renters with no communal kitchen. We're looking for a new place....
-----Bike Ride to San Lucas Tolimán-----
Yesterday I decided to ride my new bike to San Lucas, about 15km from Santiago. It's so hilly, I spent the entire ride either zooming down hills with the brakes on, sweating up a hill in 1st gear, or walking the bike. It took about an hour each way, and I had only one near-death experience ( I was flying downhill, and a vehicle coming the other direction was passing a truck -- he backed off when he saw me, otherwise I would have had to run off the pavement).
There are usually visitors as well as us regulars, and there is often Guatemalan beer and rum, Chilean wine, and sometimes something odd (but good) such as Pitahaya wine. the communal dinner and subsequent conversations and clean up occupies our time from about 6pm to 9pm. I'm usually in bed by then!
The pitahaya flower.
The bad news -- Las Milpas, which is currently owned by an heir to the Pabst brewing company, is being sold within a month. The family buying it will occupy the house, leaving the rest of the renters with no communal kitchen. We're looking for a new place....
-----Bike Ride to San Lucas Tolimán-----
Yesterday I decided to ride my new bike to San Lucas, about 15km from Santiago. It's so hilly, I spent the entire ride either zooming down hills with the brakes on, sweating up a hill in 1st gear, or walking the bike. It took about an hour each way, and I had only one near-death experience ( I was flying downhill, and a vehicle coming the other direction was passing a truck -- he backed off when he saw me, otherwise I would have had to run off the pavement).
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Bicycle; First Math Class
I'm now teaching math to 6th graders in Chacayá twice per week. Chacayá is about 10 km from where I live, and to get there, you usually go in a pickup truck. the problem is, there is no schedule, and sometimes you might have to wait an hour or more before one leaves. Worse than that, if you happen to find yourself out there after 6, there are no pickups, and you'll have to find a creative way back to the big city.
Chacayá is not on google maps. If you head south from Atitlán (which google maps calls La Trinitaria for some reason), you pass through Panabaj and then Tzanchaj. Panabaj was home to the Hospitalito until Hurricane Stan in 2005, when a mudslide went through town and killed hundreds of people. There is still a refugee camp there of people who lost their home. Tzanchaj is just east of the southern extreme of Lake Atitlán. If you go around the southern tip and then head back north 2 or 3 km, you're in Chacayá.
Yesterday I bought a bike, made in Guatemala, for 900 quetzales, or about $115. I biked around yesterday afternoon a bit, and estimated I could get to Chacayá in an hour or less. This morning I was due there to teach at 9, so I left at 7:45 to give myself plenty of time. Biking through Santiago Atitlán is a bit difficult as there is a lot of traffic -- buses, pickups, trucks and tuc-tucs on narrow streets, with no stop signs and lots of hills.
I got to the town of Chacayá at 8:30. The last thing to do was climb the hill that leads to the school. I knew I had no hope of pedaling up that monster, but did not realize how much work it would be just to walk the bike up. Five minutes of huffing and puffing later, I was drenched in sweat and panting like a dog. It's not THAT hard to walk the hill, but pushing a bike makes a lot of difference.
Fortunately I had about a half hour to dry off. The class came in a bit late from computer lessons. I don't know what they do in there. They have 2 functioning computers in a tiny closet, and all 22 members of the 6th grade plus a teacher were in there. I know the instruction is very basic and that learning some of the features of MS Word will be a big deal.
So my students came in at 9:10 and we got started right away. We talked a bit about counting to 12 in English, how to say plus and minus, and proceeded to do some problems. Last night I prepared about 100 sheets of construction paper with various problems -- some as easy as 5+5, going to such things as 67 + ? = 96. I focused on how to add 9 or 19 or 29 mentally. Add 10 (or 20 or 30) and then take away one. We generalized to 8's as well, moved on to simlar subtraction problems. Midway through I orchestrated a competition between the girls and boys. They really got into that. It was fantastic to see the traditionally dressed girls so enthusiastically raising their hands (trying not to shout out answers, because I wouldn't give a point unless they were called on!) Mini Hershey bars for the girls, Starbursts for the boys. Next time I'll have to remember to get some photos...
Chacayá is not on google maps. If you head south from Atitlán (which google maps calls La Trinitaria for some reason), you pass through Panabaj and then Tzanchaj. Panabaj was home to the Hospitalito until Hurricane Stan in 2005, when a mudslide went through town and killed hundreds of people. There is still a refugee camp there of people who lost their home. Tzanchaj is just east of the southern extreme of Lake Atitlán. If you go around the southern tip and then head back north 2 or 3 km, you're in Chacayá.
Yesterday I bought a bike, made in Guatemala, for 900 quetzales, or about $115. I biked around yesterday afternoon a bit, and estimated I could get to Chacayá in an hour or less. This morning I was due there to teach at 9, so I left at 7:45 to give myself plenty of time. Biking through Santiago Atitlán is a bit difficult as there is a lot of traffic -- buses, pickups, trucks and tuc-tucs on narrow streets, with no stop signs and lots of hills.
I got to the town of Chacayá at 8:30. The last thing to do was climb the hill that leads to the school. I knew I had no hope of pedaling up that monster, but did not realize how much work it would be just to walk the bike up. Five minutes of huffing and puffing later, I was drenched in sweat and panting like a dog. It's not THAT hard to walk the hill, but pushing a bike makes a lot of difference.
Fortunately I had about a half hour to dry off. The class came in a bit late from computer lessons. I don't know what they do in there. They have 2 functioning computers in a tiny closet, and all 22 members of the 6th grade plus a teacher were in there. I know the instruction is very basic and that learning some of the features of MS Word will be a big deal.
So my students came in at 9:10 and we got started right away. We talked a bit about counting to 12 in English, how to say plus and minus, and proceeded to do some problems. Last night I prepared about 100 sheets of construction paper with various problems -- some as easy as 5+5, going to such things as 67 + ? = 96. I focused on how to add 9 or 19 or 29 mentally. Add 10 (or 20 or 30) and then take away one. We generalized to 8's as well, moved on to simlar subtraction problems. Midway through I orchestrated a competition between the girls and boys. They really got into that. It was fantastic to see the traditionally dressed girls so enthusiastically raising their hands (trying not to shout out answers, because I wouldn't give a point unless they were called on!) Mini Hershey bars for the girls, Starbursts for the boys. Next time I'll have to remember to get some photos...
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Home from 10-Day Trip
The trip back from Punta Gorda, Belize, to Santiago Atitlán went as follows: boat ride to Puerto Barrios (Guatemala); walk 2 blocks to immigration (nobody in masks!); walk 8 blocks to the bus terminal; 5 hour bus ride to Guatemala City; walk around in search of the perfect hotel (just a few crackheads or glue sniffers -- not too scary); eat 2 pupusas from a street vendor (62 cents) and drink 2 beers ($1.80); sleep peacefully in Hotel Ajau in Zone 1; wake up and walk around the city for a couple hours, wainting for the Apple Store to open so I can replace my power cord; taxi to the Oakland Mall; SUCCESS getting a cord ($125); taxi to the bus area in Zone 12; bus to Cocales (2 hours; long wait for bus to Santiago Atitlán which never comes, but after 45 minutes I'm told to take the bus to Santa Alicia (I'd never heard of it!)from which I can get a bus to Santiago Atitlán; fortunately the guy next to me is getting off in Santa Alicia, and he'll let me know where to get off; it's raining like crazy now, and a bunch of us crowd under a little roof overhang waiting for the bus; I'm the only one not speaking Tz'utujil; it comes, and after a short time I see my beloved Volcán San Pedro; before I know it we've zoomed past the place I need to get off; manage to get off half a mile later, as the bus is extremely full, and I can't squeeze through very well with my two backpacks; tuc-tuc to the footpath near where I live; 200m walk, and zas! Home again after a mere 30 hours!
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