Learning my worth in Africa - Asante

Yes, this is Africa. The peninsula of

Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania.

Enjoying a local feast and breaking rules -

Nayama Choma (Bbqed goat), salad (rule breaking),

African fries, Kilimanjaro beer, and ketchup with

hot sauce ALREADY added - why don't we have this?

Even on my time off, I'm visiting

farms

My MeMoon suite in Africa -

seriously ridiculous. I felt a bit

absurd once I got here, and thought

back to my Samoan tent on the beach,

and that I don't really need much. Give me

a mattress, a mosquito net, and a guard, and

you can forgo the extra King size bed and

accoutrements

Amani = Peace

Indian Ocean Beach paradise to myself with sea turtles =

Peace

Early morning hike. When I asked

where the trail was which is listed in the hotel literature, they

smiled and said "You go alone?", Me - Um,

yes, unless I shouldn't? "No, it's ok" with a

big smile. Don't worry, I was only hassled by goats, which I then ate for dinner

I'm often overwhelmed when I'm

traveling over the last 2.5 years with how

amazing the world is and how one morning I can

be swimming in the Indian Ocean with sea turtles and

pirates, and the next morning taking a cappuccino in Rome.

I'm also often overwhelmed with wishing I could bring

you all with me, but have to appease myself with sharing

the memories and the hope that one day I'll go back - with

each of you.

***I apologize that there are no pictures of me with smiling African children. I was running

around so much the first few days of work that I barely took any photos, so yes it looks like I was just on vacation.

****I also apologize that there are no elephants, tigers, monkeys, lions, etc. in these photos. Having only 24 hours of free time, I couldn't venture into safari land. Next time - promise

You may remember that I journeyed to 'Africa' for the first time last April when I went to Tunisia. Many people would tell you that's not really 'Africa', (you know in the Vegas sense of the word). As my contract was nearing its end in late February, I was asked to help finish a project in Tanzania until March 30th, which basically entailed taking a project that had existed for over a year and trying to make it make sense and be in a publishable form in 30 days. Oh and journeying to Tanzania for a workshop to stand up for other people's work (good or bad) over the last year. So naturally this sounded thrilling, and I said yes.

Flash forward (or backward, I can never tell these days) to arriving back from New Zealand with one week in Rome to prepare for my journey to Tanzania in which I got to retake our Security in the Field test that you may remember; get yelled at by the medical center for not getting vaccinated/malaria pills earlier, and somehow manage to pull together the content/people for this workshop. Needless to say, I did not have high expectations for this trip or the results of this project.....

Security in the Field: As I mentioned we are required to take an exam where we are briefed on all of the rules to follow when working for the U.N. They cover everything from car-jackings, to hotel stays, to eating, to healthcare. Some of the rules include - 1) at hotels/and in our apartment we must only stay between the 2-7 floors so that we are safer from a break-in, but also in reach of fire hoses; 2) no ice, fruit, or food not cooked in front of you allowed; 3) no taking public transportation; 4) no announcing of our name or room number at the hotel desk; 5) no pictures with child soldiers. So off I went with the rules in mind, and no sooner than I landed did I break them - not intentionally, but if you can't adapt to your surroundings, why are you working for the UN in Africa?

First rule broken - ground floor hotel room, with the added bonus of holes in the mosquito netting, the power flickering on and off, and intermittent water access. The even better part was that it was a ten minute walk from the hotel itself (they put me in some side apartment unit strangely), so I couldn't even ask anyone about these issues without a bit of a journey. I had no time to ponder this situation since I had to scurry off to a meeting, but have no fear the next day I switched (mostly cause of the water situation) to the main hotel unit, and subsequently to a 2nd story room - rules in order.

Second rules broken - no ice/fruit, and no skin exposed to mosquitos. It was over 90 degrees everyday that I was in Tanzania and you want me to go without ice? This same logic goes for covering my whole body. If I'm going through the hassle of taking malaria drugs and slathering myself with bugspray - I'm going to let my skin be bare. I followed the skin covering rule my first day and showed up at the office in long pants and a suit jacket, only to be greeted by the FAO office staff (Europeans and Tanzanians) dressed in skirts and tank tops, sipping iced fruit juices. And you know what I say - When in Rome....But seriously, in this case, the first rule should be to follow those that know best who live there, and don't act like a paranoid weirdo from headquarters and alienate the local staff.

One of my colleagues journeyed on this trip from Rome as well and although he's Italian, he's much more of a UN rule follower(*Italians don't normally follow rules, see previous posts). Africa may also not be his calling. My favorite comment he made was that the hotel didn't have hair dryers in the rooms and he was considering buying one. He was also pissed that the rooms didn't come with shampoo. I was glad they had water and electricity (some of the time).

So with the rules adjusted (but don't worry, with my safety intact), I set about taking it all in. Here's a few general impressions/highlights/fav moments:

Best quotes upon my arrival: 1) From our consultant: "Oh, you're American, you'll feel right at home here cause America is just like Africa, since you have a lot of black people there". 2) From the driver that picked me up at the airport: "I thought you were going to be a man since your name is like Bill". Maybe Africa IS just like America?

Work culture: As I said, I was swooping in for the last 30 days of a project to somehow fix everything and deliver a workshop to Tanzanian government officials/academics/private sector. Two Tanzanian consultants had been hired six months ago to prepare some of the analysis, that I was also then going to need to supervise/work with to finish their reports. A lot of this made me uncomfortable, but most of all I didn't want to be seen as some HQ colonial style moron who was going to ride in on high and condescend to all the locals. I was greatly relieved the first day I met our consultants and how welcome they made me feel, and how happy they seemed. One of our consultants, just laughs/giggles uncontrollably every now and then - making work a lot more fun(ny) than my usual day to day.

One of the negative things about so many development agencies being active in Africa is the donor mentality that has been created. For all workshops, including training workshops, where you know, you'd hope they're getting something out of the workshop - you have to pay the participants to attend. And after you've agreed to pay them to attend, give them a nice lunch, and pay for their transport to the workshop, they often show up late and leave early. If your conscious tells you that you want to stand against this because it's perpetuating a bad cycle, then no one will come to your workshop. So again, I had low expectations - but was astounded when our main counterpart, the Ministry of Energy, who had agreed to OPEN the workshop, showed up 2 hours late. Yes, that means we could not start the workshop for 2 hours, which everyone said was totally normal. And in Tanzania you can not go around formality and begin without the official opening. What these delays, work-style mean, are that everyone has low expectations, so it's real easy to do a good job - especially in the eyes of my giggling consultant.

Bubble world: I often say that it's easy to get caught in the UN bubble, even in Rome, and especially in developing countries with all the rules imposed. Our office in Tanzania is located in the nicest area of Dar Es Salaam (the Slipway), and the restaurants that we are taken to by local staff are all ex-pat favorites; which means its hard to get a feel for the real culture and often feels very hypocritical. You know solving hunger by eating in the nicest restaurants in the nicest neighborhoods, doesn't really digest well, but this is a bigger battle I am waging within myself....I did endeavor to sample the local fare as much as possible, including Nayama Choma - or barbecued goat with Ugali (maize flour blob), and partake of some Safari Water and Kilimanjaro beers; even though the local office kept trying to take us for Italian food.

Tupac and Biggie: Are alive and well in Dar Es Salaam, hanging out with the likes of Mace and R. Kelly, or at least their music is

Amani: I had booked my travel with an extra 24 hours at the end to try and see a bit of Tanzania. For those of you that don't know, Tanzania is home to many of Africa's greats - Mt. Kilimanjaro, the Serengeti, pristine turquoise beaches, and much more. I had fancied going to Zanzibar, a small island off the coast of Dar, known for its Arabic influence, but when I checked things out once I arrived I realized the flight would be too risky since it might not leave if it was raining and I couldn't very well get stuck out there as my excuse for not being at work on Monday. So I found a place about 2 hours South of Dar near Ras Kutani, known as "an island getaway like Zanzibar right on the mainland", even better it's name was Amani - meaning Peace in Swahili. Having only 7 cottages, each with private access to a private beach, and their engagement with a local bio-farm, I decided it was a perfect place to check off swimming in the Indian Ocean with sea turtles. And surprise, surprise like so many of my mini-MeMoons, everyone else there was on their honeymoon.

The best of friends: I've realized in my travels/living abroad that the best friend a girl can have is a trusted taxi driver, especially when you consider rule number 3 above. One of the local FAO staff lent me her trusted driver Stanston to take me to Amani. Not only does this help avoid getting charged double cause you're a tourist/white, but also helps when he has a 4x4 with AC, and speaks English. When I first got in the car, he seemed a bit put-off that I didn't know ANY Swahili. Then he relaxed a bit and informed me about his theory that European men (white men) are not serious about marriage and that he doesn't understand why they don't pay for everything. He's really annoyed with white male tourists who share the bill with females. Over the course of the next 2 hours, Stanston became increasingly comfortable with me where we discussed why only women carry things on their heads (Stanston: they can't carry that heavy of weight in their arms); whether ugali from maize, cassava, or banana is better; the latest in malaria and HIV drugs; and finally to the point of him offering me marriage. Stanston is from a village on the border of Malawi and Zambia, where they still practice tribal custom (his dad has six wives), but no fear, Stanston has converted to Christianity. His one dilemma was how he would get the cow to my family, as the wedding offering. After some pondering, he then ventured that he would give my family 20 cows since I'm white and must be rich. When I told him that I wasn't sure what my family would do with one cow, and would definitely be overwhelmed by 20, he assured me that they could sell them. When I asked if my family said it was okay to give no cows, or perhaps something smaller like a chicken to save on airfare, he said that was not possible, that it would hurt his honor. I then informed him that in US custom he would have to ask my family's permission before asking me to marry him - he found this ridiculous, and then proceeded to call his cousin so I could talk to him on the phone, apparently thinking my family's permission could be exchanged for his. So family, whenever you're ready for your cows, just say the word. Till then, Stanston took good care of me in my safe (and much cheaper) transport to and from my peaceful 24 hour getaway, and has sworn that when I come back to Tanzania, he will give me a Serengeti tour and take me to his village - can't wait!

So all in all, I loved my journey into real Africa and I can't wait to go back. My greatest impression was how kind and happy people 'seem'. This might be partly due to bubble world, and partly due to Tanzania, which is one of the most developed countries in real Africa, and has an interesting history of Arab, German, English, Indian, and Italian influence. I'll get to practice my new rule adapting Africa skillz, when I get to really real Africa in Sierra Leone.

And like all my travels - I was romanced by the local language - Swahili, but only managed to learn a few key phrases. Most importantly - Karibu (Welcome!, similar to prego in that it can also mean you're welcome and go ahead or my pleasure); Mambo (hello!); and mostly, Asante (thank you).

So, Asante Tanzania for a soft and delightful karibu to 'real' Africa

Halfsies - la mia casa nuova

Benvenuto! You may recognize

this chair from my terrace. I had to reorganize

the furniture so that I could have 'a living room'.

Best part is I can take this chair out into my communal

terrace for sunbathing by day, and then relax with

a movie in my apt by night. Lawnware for Livingware,

the new home collection by E Beall

My dining room. I'm most proud

of my reworking of this bookcase.

I was bummed my first night that you

could see the front door from the bed,

so I endeavoured to create some separation

by moving this guy to break up the room

and pinning some (architectural) fabric on

the back so that it wasn't see through. Total cost - 5 euro

My new kitchen has a full size fridge (gasp),

and a dishwasher (gasp), a full oven, and 3 feet of

upper storage. Am I even in Italy anymore?

One thing this apartment has a plethora of

is storage. Including many bookcases. One thing

Elizabeth has been good about not carrying with her -

books. So send photos and I will dedicate a shelf to you

My office/bedroom/closet.

There's built in desk/storage area

next to a raised bed above storage drawers.

Multitasking work and sleep.

Please note bedcover is from 24 year old

boy tenant, this is not my decor choice

You may wonder why at 31, I've decide to regress/downsize/trade in an apartment with a terrace and an extra cottage for a college student's studio? I could tell you it's an effort to feel young again, but actually it all comes down to the money and Africa, like so many decisions in life.

My new dorm room is half of what I used to pay in rent, and given that I will be spending almost half of every month for the next four months in Sierra Leone, it doesn't make much sense to pay for an extra cottage. While I miss my fab terrace and my 150 plus stairs on my journey home, I don't miss the extra space (less to clean) and am loving my new neighborhood. I haven't counted the stairs yet, but I'm on the fourth floor so it could be close to 150.

A few things of note about my new abode:

-While my old place was charming, my new place is modern, architectural, and functional. Even though it's small, there's more storage than I could ever imagine - in the ceiling, in the floor, the bookshelves, everything has a spot with space for organizing to spare. Now I just have to control myself on filling up those extra spots.

-My old neighborhood was above the city center, full of greenery, and very residential without many shops or restaurants. I now live in the thick of the old meat packing/slaughterhouse district and in one block there are 4 grocery stores, 3 butchers, 5 shoe stores, 3 gelato shops, and a public market. I also live directly above a bakery = that food baby I promised you a year ago is finally on its way

-In my old place I really lived alone, in the sense that my entryway was even separate from the rest of the building so I had literally no interaction with the neighbors (unless you count listening to my neighbor practice opera). My new apartment is in an old communal building with shared courtyards and probably over 100 tenants - most of whom have lived here for 50 plus years, average age 70. I've been dreaming since I arrived in Italy of old people making me meatballs, and I now have the means to realize my dream

-Visiting hours are officially over unless you want to cuddle. Part of my rationale for my old place was that I could easily host visitors, and host visitors I did. I figured that most of you are not going to come BACK to Italy this year so I didn't need to keep extra space for you. I'm also now rid of the guilt of offering shelter to the homeless and am forced to say no to homeless Canadians, Spaniards, and the like. Of course you all are welcome, just let me know if you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon before you come.

-My landlord asked me to keep a low profile when moving in since she doesn't really want people to know she's subletting. I'm supposed to tell anyone who asks that I'm her son's (the tenant) girlfriend and that I'm staying here while he's studying abroad. One glitch - he's 24 and doesn't speak English. I'm still working on my story of how we met....

-So much for a low profile: On my first full weekend in my apartment, I went to pull in the laundry from the inner courtyard (directly outside my front door) and put a box in the doorway in case the door tried to slam shut. Well it slammed shut and pushed the box out of the way. I found myself shoeless, in my pajamas, with no bra on, locked outside my apartment. Hmm, what to do. I first had a flashback to my Spanish Harlem days, and then thought immediately how my appearance was going to go over. In the US it might be normal to sort of walk in your yard or on your patio in your pjs with no shoes - not in Italy. No shoes is unfathomable (remember its 75 and they're still in boots and puffy jackets). So I first decided to knock on my neighbors door to see if she could call the doorman - no doorman number, no internet, but she did invite me for pasta. I then waited in the stairwell for some more neighbors, definitely looking like a homeless degenerate. I came across a group of two elderly ladies and a middle aged man who I employed for help - their answer was putting a newspaper on the ground for me to stand on with my treacherous barefeet, and calling a locksmith and telling him how they had a hopeless barefoot American locked out on their hands - still no luck. Then the gentleman with the newspaper came up with the idea of an 'elasticce'. I'm still not sure what this is, but I followed him up to my place, where he subsequently whipped out a metro card (paper) and used it to somehow force open my door. I was a mix of utterly grateful and shocked at how easy this man can break into my house. Over the next hour, all four of my neighbors who I employed help from stopped by to check on me and offer me tips for not getting locked out again (including always wearing my keys in my housecoat, and never leaving the window open while opening the door). All of this = so much closer to meatballs

So in sum, living like I'm in my 20s with 80 year old neighbors and a padded bank account is better than I could have ever imagined.

Unfinished Business Time

Two weeks on vacay alone, meant

mastering my self-timer, oh just

wait to see the beast that this has

unleashed

The happy couple

Revisiting old ground with new progress,

the garden boxes that have been installed

and the garden club as a result of my

fundraising and teaching at Aro Valley School

Catching up with old friends, including

Graham and Nancy who held onto

a bag of my belongings for a year

New Zealand's cathedrals

I will lay on the beach on this vacay -

the Coromandel coast delivering on

my last day. I went from this pose

to an upright Coach seat in less than four

hours, sand brought along for the ride
Good morning Catlins

I went to Southland in search of

penguins, but still knew it was rare,

especially to find two yellow-eyed penguins

Sooooo glad I could make it around

the world to celebrate with the

happy, adorable couple. Excuse my

smashface and undid hair, this is 4 hours

after landing and 20+ hours of travel,

my dressing/grooming ability was at a minimum

FINALLY!!! Unpenned sheep, now

if only someone was with me to

photograph me frolicking/tackling them

Oh NZed, your sense of humour

never ceases to amaze me

Picturesque beach to myself on my

last day - thank you NZed

He was yelling at me that I woke

him from his nap

From the bottom of the world,

the Southern tip of NZed

In true NZ superlatives - the

steepest street IN THE WORLD

in Dunedin

Just missed Intnational Gumboot Day

My old street

With some of my favs on

the shore of Lake Taupo

Oh Kiwi randomness towns, I missed you

On my last night, NZed was visited by

an aurora only visible this far south.

Auroras are best enjoyed with a glass

of Martinborough Pinot wearing

Icebreaker's merino

After a quick 48 hours in Peru, in which I gave a presentation to the Ministry of Agriculture plus 100 others in mangled Spatalian, I was off to NZed with a huge grin and glad to leave work and the rest of the world behind for a few days. Starting off in Lima, I was next in line at the customs/passport check when the computers went down and they redirected everyone to a desk behind me, which meant I went from first to last. I remembered how much patience I've learned to have and kept a happy smile and then ran to the plane. Sweating at the start of a 24 hour flight is never a good idea. Two TACA flights later (with a short stop in El Salvador), I arrived to LAX, helped a stranded Peruvian traveler who couldn't understand why there wasn't free wifi at LAX; asked to borrow a stranger's phone to call my Mother, and then got in line for Air NZed, with another huge grin. I decided to inquire about the upgrade to business class - $2,000 additional, which I declined and then subsequently forgot to ask where my seat was. Lucky me - a middle seat on a 13 hour flight, after already flying 10 hours. Thank god it was Air NZ, and everything else is so awesome about it or I would have lost my grin. I arrived on time to Auckland, got myself a flat white, topped up my NZed sim card and withdrew money from my NZed bank account, and my grin got wider while I waited for my flight to Welly. Arrived to sunshine and no wind - a perfect day for a wedding.

So flash forward and it's my last night in NZed. I'm sitting on the coast in the Coromandel, watching the sunset with a rainbow while drinking some pinot and eating some blue cheese and fully wishing I had a lifetime here.

The overwhelming feeling I’ve had since arriving in NZed is a simultaneous urge to grin ear to ear and burst into tears – grin because I’m back and cry because I know it’s only temporary, and both when I think of all the memories (especially with all of you who came to visit!). The hardest thing about being back is how natural it feels to be here.

While I was pretty proud of all I accomplished in my year in NZed, there were a few things that remained on my list undid, so naturally I needed to come back and attend to them –

-Alice and Aaron saying 'I do': I always told them they needed to hurry up and get engaged/married to give me a reason to come back to NZed. They are such good instruction followers that they planned it for exactly a year after my departure. And with this, I also got to check off a long lasting item on my list "Furthest distance to attend the wedding". I mean you'd think that I had already easily won this (Eve, Kaitlyn, I'm looking at you) but no, someone has always managed to rob me by coming from Australia, China, Vietnam. Well, there were plenty of eager folks to try to rob me again from the U.K., but I tallied the miles - I finally win. And it was so worth it. The wedding felt incredibly intimate, with the way their vows were delivered (full of inside jokes/moments) that everyone could connect with, to the serving of the family beer (Stoke), and that Alice made the wedding cake and did the flowers herself. I was a bit worried that I would feel a bit lonely at the wedding, and instead I felt like I was part of the family (Alice's brother and I served as the photographers). Serving pork belly at your wedding is also always a good idea. I even managed to last until 11:30 at night, and then subsequently fell asleep in the cab on the way home

-Master Elizabeth: Remember that obscure topic I came to do a Master's in? Well, I submitted my thesis last August and only received my grade two weeks before coming to NZed, but there were still the colors of the binding to pick out and the lodging of the published copy with the library, which I was blessed with being able to do in person. All 150 pages of A- glory "Exploring Comparative Advantage in the Context of Climate Change with Maori Organizations" are now available for your reading pleasure online and in hard copy in metallic blue and gold lettering.

-Far South: You avid readers may remember that I never made it to the far south (Dunedin, the Catlins), so I decided on this visit that I should finally journey to the end of the world - literally. The only things between me and Antarctica were a brutal southerly wind, a lighthouse, and a few penguins.

Having been away a year, NZed still absolutely feels like I never left and totally feels like home, but there are a few things I forgot and a few things that are just as I remember them –

-People: I forgot how many people I actually know in NZ, and most days I felt like I was running around trying to catch up with everyone

-Driving: was a little worried about driving again on the other side, but it almost feels more natural, although trust me I turned those wipers on more times than I car to recall when trying to signal

-Internet: or lack thereof. I still can't imagine how in 2012 New Zealand has such poor internet access and that they still charge for use by MB. Since I was working this time while in NZ, this became especially apparent, including dropped skype calls where my co- workers thought I might be in Africa instead of NZ. There's a rumor that the issue lies with NZ running its internet cables from Australia, under the sea. I have not looked into the validity of this claim, but seriously? Can cables under the sea really be cheaper/more efficient than investing in your own infrastructure NZed?

-News: Anywhere else the news is full of violence, political strife, celebrity gossip, etc., Somehow the biggest news in NZed is still penguin sightings,remodeled homes, lady gaga coming, and jesus curing cancer as the top stories. However, I did get to watch a documentary about the CHCH quakes while I was there, and it is seriously sad, except for the heartwarming moments of Kiwi humor ingenuity.

-Hills: My first walk up my old hill, and I was thinking 'Wow I don't miss this', but yes I do miss the shape it kept me in, and the view it gave me from home

-Food: I forgot how expensive food/drinks are in NZ, but not how good they are. It's nice to come back to NZ with a bit of money so that I could fill myself up on the king of blue cheeses Kikorangi (not my words, theirs, and at $13.00 for 2 oz, it better be), blackball salami, flat whites, pinot noirs, linseed bread, lamb, Steinlager, ciders, KK Malaysian takeaway, sushi for a$1 a roll, and more...

-Weather bombs: The equanimity of weather in Rome must have gone to my head, because I packed a suitcase full of light summer clothes and images of myself frolicking on lonely beaches, cavorting in the sea with dolphins, but no one told me that summer never came to NZ this year. During my two weeks I also got to experience two "weather bombs" (again not my words, theirs) with southerly (meaning from Antarctica) winds at 100 km a hour. The nicest weather days of my trip were the first and last days of my trip

-Hitchhiking: While I can't speak for everywhere in the world, I've never experienced another country where hitchhiking is such de rigueur. I guess it speaks to the safety of NZ, and also the prevalence of backpackers. My whole time living in NZ I never picked up a hitchhiker, mostly because they were usually men and I didn't feel like getting raped. On my scenic drive through the Far South, I was singing along in the car, when I encountered a lone girl hitchhiker and planned to just zip by and then I thought, since I'm not a raper, I should pick her up before someone else does. Of course she was German, and we passed the rest of the day together visiting NZ's cathedrals (waterfalls) while I told her everything she had to do and eat while she was in NZ. She got an unraping ride, and I got to reminisce and boss. I was a bit worried when I had to send her on her way to get her next ride, so I bought her a Whitacker's chocolate bar and instructed her to eat one everyday and to email me when she got to her hostel so I knew she was safe = exactly why I'm not ready to be a parent. A side note on hitchhiking, since I don't do it (you're welcome Mom, and no I wouldn't call taking rides when you can't find a cab after a Red Sox game or in Adams Morgan on a Friday night hitchhiking), I find it pretty presumptuous. And I don't mean the hitchhiking if you've found yourself stranded or whatever, but actually going to a country with your plan of transport being to hitchhike. This basically means you've planned a vacation based on mooching off the kindness of strangers. Maybe I also find it a bit unconscionable because it means you are at the whim of others with no control of when you go places. Both of these probably speak more to the fact that I don't like to depend on others than on the actual merits/demerits of hitchhiking

So all in all, amazing, too short, thought provoking, giggle worthy, and while I was extremely sad to leave, I now know that while NZ might be on the other side of the world (from Italy), it's not as hard as you think it is to get to (especially with Air NZ) and I will be back.

*I would like to thank my sponsors for this trip, Victoria University scholarship - I'm sure this probably wasn't how you envisioned me spending my grant but do know I put a lot of attention into picking out the colors to publish my thesis in; and the FAO Tanzania project for paying me while on the other side of the world. Hope I can show you it was worthwhile next week

I know I've promised you a NZ/Italy matchup, and I promise it's coming with even better perspective now after this refresher.....