Valpo Voyager

Student Stories from Around the World

Month: May 2017 (page 1 of 2)

Rural Homestay in Khorixas

Blogger: Katie Karstensen

Program: Windhoek, Namibia

I am incredibly grateful to my rural homestay family for welcoming me into their hearts and home for a week in Khorixas. My family consisted of only incredibly strong and empowering women. My grandma, or Ouma, was the Village Pastor, and I had two host sisters, one who had a three year old daughter. We also had many pets including five cats, one dog, three goats, one pig, doves, and chickens at our farm on Waterfal Post Three. My family came from the Herero tribe, and all spoke Herero and Damara on a daily basis, only my oldest host sister speaking English enough to translate most things for me. I was thankful my family treated as one of their own and allowed me to help with some daily tasks such as milking and herding the goats, hunting for wampani worms, serving Ouma food, and doing the dishes.

Though there were more differences than similarities in the lives we lead on a regular basis, being with a family reminded me a lot of my own home and family. Things that most reminded me of home were farm chores such as herding and feeding various types of animals, watering the garden(both their garden and my own having lots of sweet corn), being able to see a sky full of stars at night, and flat landscapes allowing you to view beautiful sunsets and the land going on for miles(though the flat landscape I’m used to is filled with corn instead of dirt and sand).

As my Ouma was the Village Pastor, religion was a large part of our daily routine. Ouma had no theological training through a certification program or through a university; she said she studied the bible everyday, which she did. Ouma said a prayer for us in the morning when we woke up to thank God for the day, for our meals to fill us, and a prayer in the evening for all of us before we went to sleep to keep us safe throughout the night. Her interpretation and preaching on the Bible came from a very literal interpretation of scripture. One afternoon, the other study abroad students being hosted on the same farm were brought over by their host siblings to our house, and they talked about their history and let us ask questions about their culture and beliefs. One point of confusion was Ouma’s belief of Jesus being white. She said in her bible there was a picture of Jesus depicting him as a white man, a very Westernized notion. From my interpretation of the conversation with Ouma, she took the Bible’s word as the whole truth directly from God, not as written by man. We held two different services while we were there. The first was in the evening at our farm sitting next to the campfire in rows of chairs, and Ouma sitting at the front. The message conveyed was meant solely for us, as it was us and a few host siblings in attendance. The service was spoken in Damara(a click language) and translated by our host siblings into English. Ouma reiterated how thankful she was to God for us being there. When they asked us our spiritual beliefs, it was not apparent they knew how to respond when one of the students said they grew up Jewish, but were happy to hear the rest of us grew up in Christian households. Ouma allowed time for us to ask questions, and she spent time later on in the week looking for scripture and asking me to look up the same scripture in an English bible so she could use scripture to answer other students questions later in the week. On Sunday, we also hosted a service. I enjoyed how personal the services were with such a small group of people, and it was reiterated for me how worship can be done everywhere, even sitting on chairs in a circle while chickens and cats are walking in between everyone’s legs. Ouma and my host sister practiced their faith more than during services, but were great examples of living out their faith through their actions.

The week as a whole for me was a very intense privilege check. At many times I felt like I was camping, and I felt comfortable. Then I did a lot of reflection on how my own family in the U.S. goes camping for fun often, leaving our luxuries at home for the weekend and enjoying ourselves. But the farm I stayed at in Khroixas as all the family has. I brought a few outfits to wear for the week, and my host sister rotated a few articles of clothing throughout the week as well. I had more articles of clothing I had left at the study abroad house, and even more clothes I left behind in the U.S. But the clothes my family wore were the only clothes they had. My house in the U.S. uses an unknown amount of electricity per day, and we depend on it very heavily, so much so we have a backup generator in case the power were ever to go out. My host family had a small machine they hooked up to a car battery, so they could plug the TV and their phone chargers in, and that was all the power they used. They’re content, and the lack of power usage is incredible for the harm they aren’t doing on the environment. There were many things I could think of that are a part of my daily life that would make their lives so much easier, but are not accessible to residents of Khorixas. Though much wasn’t accessible to them, it was exciting to see they were able to have a little electricity to keep up with politics, listen to music, and watch television (which is how my host sisters learned English, despite not going to school.) Their days are based around preparing meals, caring for the animals, and taking naps.

During a get together with all of the study abroad students and their siblings, and my Ouma, they told us about some of the history they had been a part of. They said they were thankful we were there to visit them as there was a time when black and white people were not allowed to be in one another’s company, or even on the same property. They said there is a big difference between now and then, as now black and white people are allowed to visit and come into one another’s homes and continually learn from each other. We were also there during a time that rained more than it had in years. Ouma talked about how everyone used to have much more cattle, but because there was no rain and no food, they lost most of what they had. With recent rain, plants began growing again, and there were small patches of greenery everywhere. Ouma is very hopeful her garden will be successful, so they can add more variety to their diet. It sounded like they receive cornmeal from the government for their main source of food. When I asked about the flag flying on the roof of one of the houses, my Ouma told me it was the Namibian flag, though it was the Swapo political party’s flag. When I asked what her political views were, she said, with her fist held in the air, that Swapo was the Namibian political party, and they were doing good for the people, and that is as far as she was willing to elaborate on the subject.

When I was by myself with my family, I felt included and enjoyed their company. During the last day we were together at the family party with everyone from Waterfal Post Three, we were made out to be the guests of honor. Our families dressed us in their traditional dresses and covered our heads with scarves, and felt proud to have us wear their clothing. We were served first out of everyone and had our own special table with a tablecloth, place mats, and a bowl of candy. Everyone else sat around in chairs and ate on plates out of their laps while the kids sat on the ground and ate with their hands out of a bucket. We asked to help prepare the food and were given minimal tasks to do. We had to ask again to do more. It was uncomfortable to be a guest of honor, but I could tell the families were proud to show us their best and serve us.

Coffee Break

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

All my life, I hated the taste of coffee. Even through college, I resisted being one of the many students who were coffee or caffeine dependent. But after only two weeks in Costa Rica, I have learned to like coffee. I suppose when coffee is fed to you in the morning, again during morning coffee break, then during afternoon coffee break, and sometimes even with dinner, you have no choice but to start enjoying it. And a lot of sugar helps!

Indeed, Ticos like their coffee! But the cultural tradition of the ‘coffee break’ is about more than this rich drink. The coffee break is a cultural expression of Costa Rica’s community culture.  In a community culture, there is a greater commitment to relationships than there is to work or to other obligations. Everyday in Costa Rica, there is at least one break sometime around 3:00 pm for people to get coffee and to develop relationships with the people around them. At work, the time is spent getting to know co-workers. In school, sometimes we have multiple coffee breaks throughout the day in order to break up 3 hour long classes and to talk about life with other students. When I have spent coffee break at home with my Tico family, I have found the coffee break is a greater family event than even dinner is. Everyone sits together and talks during coffee break, while the same may not be true of dinner.

I very much enjoy the community culture of Costa Rica, but it is very different from the culture that I come from in the United States. In the United States, work is done first while relationships happen second. At first, I thought that business in the United States was more efficient because of this priority. Maybe this is true, but having seen business in a place with a community-oriented culture like Costa Rica, I would challenge that idea a little bit. The idea here, is that doing work with others is easier when you have a relationship with them and have established trust. And I have seen this to be true. It is not as if work doesn’t get done!

Confronted with this different way of life, I do wonder if the different priorities of the community-oriented culture is better than the priorities in my home culture in some ways. When every business transaction is also about the relationships with other people, I tend to think that those transactions would be more enjoyable and could result in new friendships. Overall, we end up with a population that is more happy at work, and each person has more friends to speak of. Finally, the community is more connected on the whole. There is a reason Costa Rica is one of the happiest countries in the world! So even if these priorities are not the most efficient way to run a business, would this be justified by the fact that the people are more happy? In this war between happiness and efficiency, it seems to me that while Costa Rica has chosen happiness,  the United States has chosen efficiency. I have seen this through my experience in college, where the amount of work that students are expected to do is ever increasing and a great importance is given to a student’s productivity. Its almost like a competition between students: who can handle the most work?

Perhaps the United Statesians can learn something about happiness from this small, central American country where everyone wants to go on vacation and where people live la pura vida, the pure life. Perhaps we can change the cultural structure that makes work separate from friends and leave little time for relationships to have a more community based culture too. But the most concrete takeaway I can give here, is try and take time to appreciate the people around you, and if you ever get the chance to visit Costa Rica, don’t miss out on spending time with the Ticos during coffee break!

Introducing the Bloggers: Emma

Blogger: Emma Chelsvig

Location: Chennai, India

Major: Geography and Statistics

I chose to intern abroad because there is no better way to expand your frame of mind than going abroad.  By going abroad, I can actively explore a new culture and learn more about the world in which I live.  There is so much to learn from and discover beyond the boundaries of the United States.  I am looking forward to gathering a new perspective on life.  From what I have heard, it is a whole different world in India.  I am excited to live in the bustling city of Chennai for 8 weeks and see life from a different vantage point.

Introducing the Bloggers: Elisa

Blogger: Elisa Espinosa

Location: Valparaiso, Chile

Major: Professional Writing with a Spanish Minor

I chose to intern abroad because Brittany Reynolds participated in the same internship last summer and encouraged me to apply. I am most excited to get more experience with TESOL and to better my Spanish fluency.

Opportunity Costs and Payoffs

Blogger: Abbey Little

Program: CISabroad – Newcastle, Australia

Opportunity cost (noun): the loss of other alternatives when one alternative is chosen.

I have been educated on the concept of opportunity cost in courses like economics, but I tend to overlook the real-life application of the matter. My experiences in Australia so far have given me an authentic insight on what an opportunity cost truly entails. I would like to defend this concept and preface my explanation by saying that choosing one alternative over another is not necessarily a negative action. However, the reality of it is absolute.

It was obvious that I would be sacrificing some parts of my everyday life when I made the decision to pack up and come to Australia for a year. I would miss celebrations such as birthdays, holidays, and graduations. I would miss family, friends, and all the familiar faces I encounter in a week’s time. Ultimately, I was sacrificing familiarity and comfort for an unexplored world full of excitement.

Melbourne, Australia

Throughout the month of April, I was fortunate enough to do some traveling in southern Australia. I visited Melbourne, which is a lively city booming with art.

From there, I traveled to Tasmania, which is easily the most picturesque place I have ever been to. Worlds could never truly describe the sense of happiness that Tasmania gave me, and pictures will always fail to capture the true beauty of it.

While in Tasmania, I was given back a little piece of joy that I had sacrificed to come abroad – a group of friends and I rented a car. That may sound silly, but constantly checking bus times to get around and hauling groceries from bus stops across campus is far from appealing. The fear of driving on the opposite side of the road from the right side of the car was masked by pure excitement. There were two groups of us, with four to each car. We all agreed to take turns driving, respectively.

The morning of our first full day in Tassie (Tasmania) rolled around, and it was my turn to get behind the wheel. I would be driving the first two hours of our four-hour road trip to a destination in northeastern Tasmania know as the Bay of Fires. From there, we would head south back towards our AirBnB in Cremorne and make a stop at Wineglass Bay for sunset, then return home for the night.

The sun was not properly risen as I pulled out of the driveway, and there was an eerie mist amongst the mountains. We were finally in control of where we would go. Josh and Josh made themselves comfortable in the backseat as I passed the aux cord to my trustee and co-pilot, Elena. we were on our way.

A sense of freedom was upon us. The boys both dozed off in the backseat as the sun began to come over the caps of the mountains on our right. Ahead, I could see a wall of fog, but did not think much of it. Within minutes, I was driving up a mountain through a thick cloak of fog. The road was demanding that I take sharp, slow turns. Eventually, I hit a patch of unpaved highway. The sense of accomplishment after getting through that drive was sublime. I have been given the opportunity to drive again; I was in control. That privilege had been absent from my life for months.

Our journey continued, and we had the glory of properly seeing Tasmania by means of the most outstanding road trip I have ever taken part of. Ever since, I seem to dread public transportation a little more, but again, I remember that I will get to be in control of my direction again someday. The privilege of driving daily was something I sacrificed by studying abroad in Australia. This sacrifice along has led me to the most glorious days I’ve had the chance of living. I have been in the land down under for approximately three months now, and I have come to the realization that I have indeed sacrificed a lot of normality since my arrival. Nevertheless, I would not trade any experience I’ve had for its alternative. I can confidently say the payoff of each opportunity cost I’ve encountered has been well worth it.

Cheers! xx

Abbey

Sossusvlei – An Impromptu Trip

Blogger: Katie Karstensen

Program: Windhoek, Namibia

There is an International Windhoek Facebook group for people that are traveling through Windhoek from other countries. People usually post about travel details asking for companions, or help traveling from one place to another. I returned to Windhoek from Luderitz Tuesday night and saw that a group of women were heading to Sossusvlei for the next couple of days and still had one extra seat. I called to see if they were still looking and then met them at a car rental place Wednesday morning at 7AM. So two women from Germany, one from Holland, one from Switzerland, and one from the United States packed a rental car full and headed to the sand dunes at Sossusvlei. And during the journey we only received one traffic ticket for accidentally driving on the right side of the road as opposed to the left as is the law here in Namibia, which I would argue is pretty good for none of us having experience driving on the left side of the road before.

Spanish-isms

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

No one ever said that learning a new language was easy. I did expect it to be a massive challenge, and the experience has certainly risen to meet my expectations. But learning a new language has had a lot of interesting side effects that I had not expected upon my ability to speak English and on the manner in which I normally communicate.  

  1. 1. I can’t spell words in English anymore. In elementary school, I once won the spelling bee and have always found spelling to be natural for me. But the way things are spelled in Spanish is so consistent. Each letter makes the same sound almost all the time, and there aren’t any strange letter combinations like ch or gh, so there is little guesswork when it comes to spelling Spanish words. They don’t even really do spelling bees here, because it is not impressive to be able to spell words in Spanish. Now, I find myself second guessing each word I write in English and sometimes I find myself writing in a kind of Spanglish. (Ex. Consentracion?)

2. There are certain phrases that are just said differently in Spanish than in English. When you are hungry, you say yo tengo hambre, which literally means “I have hunger”. So sometimes, when talking to my cohort here, I’ll say in English something like “I have so much hunger right now” (and then they laugh at me for speaking Spanish words in English). Similarly, to introduce themselves, people often say “I am called…”, or “I call myself…”. But people think it’s very odd to ask “what do you call yourself?” in English.

3. In Spanish, there is no fast or slang way to do possessives. In English, you may say “Jenna’s shoes” but in Spanish you would have to say “the shoes of Jenna”. I find myself avoiding possessives even in English now. (Ex. “Erin, can we all go to the house of your mom?”)

4. The last one is more about the difficulty I have with speaking Spanish than the language itself. My Spanish skills are limited, so whenever I respond, I usually have to do so in a roundabout way in order to use the words that I know. So sometimes, when I talk to someone in English, I’ll be thinking about what words I know in Spanish to convey my thought. I plan my response with very simple, basic words. And then I realize, wait, this is English! I can use whatever words I want!

Learning a language is difficult, but very fun and rewarding! Just don’t forget to laugh at yourself for your mistakes.  Go ahead and try even if you sound like an idiot. Because people appreciate it when you at least try, and you learn 5 times as much that way (and are therefore investing in a future where you don’t sound like an idiot). But now, you can be aware that there are a couple of side effects that come along with becoming bilingual!

Getting Involved

Blogger: Alyson Kneusel

Program: Reutlingen, Germany – Study Center

Hallo!

One thing I really appreciate about the Reutlingen program is that it provides the opportunity to study abroad with little knowledge of the German language. However, since this is not an immersion program, one thing I did not expect was to struggle with becoming more involved in the German community. This is one thing that I wish had more insight into prior to my study abroad experience.

It can be intimidating to go out and join an organization without even being able to understand what the members are saying. For me, I found that I was only able to push through this fear by joining organizations where I felt comfortable with the activity. So far, I have gotten involved in two groups around campus. The first is a Christian Campus Connect group. In many ways, I feel more at home there than anywhere else in Germany. I know some of the music, the progression of the service, and I know the people have similar beliefs and values to my own.

I have also become involved with the orchestra on campus. I have played violin for nearly fifteen years, so to me this is an activity where I can be comfortable and confident. It is a place where I feel successful, which helps counter the uncertainty which comes from the language barrier. More than that, I find it easy to connect with the people there because we have similar interests. I have always said that music is a universal language, but here I really use it as one.

In a few minutes, I actually need to practice some music I am playing with a trio from the orchestra for a charity event on Wednesday night. Our trio is also looking into playing at the big campus fest event coming up in a few weeks. Playing in this group has actually reminded me why I love music. It is a means of communication which transcends language and cultural differences and provides a means of emotional communication.

For me, the thing to take away from this is to encourage students to get involved in local groups when studying abroad. More importantly, I encourage them to do this by thinking about which things they feel comfortable doing, and finding groups that match with these interests. I didn’t realize when I came here how crucial it would be to think about how I could get more involved, and I wish I had thought about it a bit earlier. I would have loved to be involved in these groups for the entirety of my study abroad program. I hope that my experience in this regard will help someone else get involved more expediently than I did because this involvement is something I have really come to value.

Vigilant Pirates

Blogger: Natalie Wilhelm

Location: Cergy-Pontoise, France

Dear readers, let me tell you about my friends, the vigilant pirates. They’re swashbuckling, treasure-plundering guys with peg legs who sail ships and say, “Arrghh!” a lot.

Just kidding. They’re actually men who wear camouflage and red berets and bulletproof vests and carry big assault rifles and walk around Paris and the surrounding cities making sure that nobody’s planting a bomb on the metro. They’re called VigiPirate.

The first time I saw them, I did a double take. I was shocked to see weapons so prominently displayed in a heavily populated tourist area. I forget where I was the first time I saw them, but it threw me off because I had been telling myself that France was peaceful again. That there was no danger in coming here.

Seeing the VigiPirate guys reminded me that the threat of violence is still very real. The France that I fell in love with during my first study abroad program four years ago is a different place now. It’s still healing from the November 13, 2015 attacks on the Bataclan and the Stade de France.

I remember exactly where I was when I heard about that attack. I’d been at work all day, so I hadn’t seen the news. I went to a friend’s house right after, where somebody mentioned it. I was crushed, devastated by the vast and unfathomable violence that had befallen the place I so loved. Why would anybody want to hurt France? Why would anybody want to hurt anybody, period?

And where else have similar attacks taken place since 2015? Belgium, Sweden, London, and France. To name a few. And what do we do when we hear about this violence? We change our profile pictures to show the affected country’s flag over our carefully positioned selfies, and we say, “How terrible!” And then we move on.

But what else are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to rally in anger and send bombs into heavily populated areas in war-torn countries like Syria and just kind of hope that we hit the right people? Do we drown in grief, and thus cease to function? Or do we stop living our lives because of the sheer terror of the threat of violence?

I wish I knew the answer to this question. I wish I knew the way to stop all of this violence from happening, period, but I don’t. I am a twenty-one-year-old woman studying abroad, and I know no more about maintaining world peace than does the seventy-year-old man sitting in the capital of my own country.

Of course, it’s not like the United States has never been the victim of terrorist attacks. The World Trade Center was a thing. There are some people my age who will tell you that they remember 9/11 happening, but I don’t. I wasn’t yet six-years-old. My time was occupied with playing with my brothers and trying to convince my parents to let me adopt a dog.

I may not have specific memories of 9/11, but I’ll remember November 13th, 2015, for the rest of my life. I’ll remember Thursday, April 2017, too. It was just a few days ago that a young police officer (a member of France’s gendarmerie) was killed by a terrorist on the Champs-Elysée. His partner gave a speech at the memorial. And France mourned yet again.

I said before that I don’t know what to do in the face of this kind of violence, but that’s not completely true. I know that we must not succumb to hatred. We must not fear each other, because we are all we have. If we live in a world where hatred and violence are the norm, we will lose the only thing that keeps us human: each other. In the words of someone who knows much more than I do, “You will not have my hate.” Vous n’aurez pas ma haine.

Nicaragua

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

During Holy Week, the Costa Rica study abroad program took an educational trip to Nicaragua. Though the trip was technically to teach us about the realities of poverty, the impacts of historical events upon current day circumstances, different types of healthcare systems, and many other things about the unique Nicaraguan culture, it conveniently served the dual purpose of fulfilling Costa Rican immigration law, which only allows foreigners to stay in the country undocumented for up to 3 months at a time (After a week in another country, we were safe to re-enter Costa Rica for another couple months)!

To make sure we are all on the same page here, geographically, Nicaragua and Costa Rica are so close to each other on the map that they share a border (neither Costa Rica nor Nicaragua is islands, they are both small countries that make up part of Central America, connecting Columbia to Mexico). So, driving up into Nicaragua from Costa Rica only took a couple hours. The weather in Costa Rica is amazingly temperate most days– Ticos say it’s cold when it gets down to 65 and they complain of heat when we get to the upper 80s. I expected Nicaragua to be similar since it is so physically close to Costa Rica on the map.

But Nicaragua is different. Now I have experienced heat—I was born in Arizona, have lived through a Midwest summer, and even have visited Texas during the hot month of July—but heat is different when there is no air conditioning, no ice, and no possibility of a break from the constant heat. The only moment of any day when I did not feel smothered by heat was when I was taking a cold shower (which was good because warm water was not really an option). Nicaragua has the kind of heat that makes your clothes stick to you, that makes it hard to concentrate, and that saps all of your energy. Being in the car felt like being in an oven, and opening the windows only let more warm air in. Erin, Daniella, and I, who were riding in the back seat of the car, ended up plugging in little USB powered fans into the phone charging port of the car order to survive car trips!

Knowing that us extranjeros were delicate, my Nicaraguan host family provided a fan for me. I became very attached to this fan— It is funny how valuable something so simple can be when it is all you have. My first host family was a middle class, typical family in Managua. It consisted of about 11 people living in one (relatively) big house. There was one shower and one toilet, both in the backyard. I didn’t mind using them, though I haveto say, there is a special trick to being able to put on new clothes while in the shower, with sandals on, in the dark, without dropping all of your stuff or old clothes in the soaking wet. They fed me gallo pinto most meals, a simple mix of rice and beans and a staple for poor families in Latin America. But often, wanting to make something special for me, they were nice enough to make me fruit juice from purified water, since I couldn’t drink the ordinary water which often harbors bacteria or even parasites.

After only a couple of days, the people of my host family were talking about me as part of the family, and I was amazed how fast these people had accepted and decided to love me. The mama of the house, a delightful older lady who loves to tell stories, wanted to share everything she had with me. She even paid a motorcycle-taxi to take us to the house one night, just so I could have the experience of riding in one (which was very exciting by the way). The little girls of the house did my hair, gave me stickers, played games with me, and one even translated my homework for me! The stories go on. From these people, I learned about the openness, kindness, and willingness of the Nicaraguan people to share their lives, their limited resources, to teach what they know, and to welcome you into their midst.

More than learning about generous hospitality, I also learned some practical skills as we traveled in Nicaragua. I learned to wash clothes by hand and hang them up in the courtyard to dry overnight. I also learned to play “duck duck goose” in Spanish. Some ladies taught our whole group how to handmake corn tortillas, laughing at our weak hands which get burnt so easily, and explaining how some days they make over a hundred of these tortillas. We also learned to make some traditional Pascua (Easter) deserts. When it came to the farm, we learned how to milk a cow with your bare hands and how to catch a baby chicken (tip: you get a local kid to do it).

Of all these things that I learned, the most impactful experience was in rural Nicaragua, a small town called El Bonete. The people in this town were severely impoverished and had little access to resources. It was explained to me that the only way to have a real house is to have a family member in the States. Despite the fact that every adult in the village had at least one school degree, and many had two or three, they were all struggling hard and fighting to get by. Recently, this has become a fight against their very environment, as each year it gets hotter and the rain starts later. Most of the livelihood of this community comes from agriculture or livestock, and those things directly depend on the environment. As I looked at each dusty, brown field where herds of emaciated cows tried to find shelter from the sun in the scant shade of a couple trees, I wasn’t sure who was going to win this fight. The change in the environment for these farmers has been partially due to the deforestation of Nicaragua. Most Nicaraguans still cook with wood rather than electric or gas stoves, and as the land is deforested it gets hotter and has worse soil. But additionally, Nicaragua has the severe misfortune of being geographically situated where climate change has great effects. “Our children don’t know what it was like before, they only know what it is like to grow up in this heat,” said one mother. “Go back, and tell the United-Statesians, how we are suffering from the heat,” said the Pastor of the town. As we drove out of El Bonete, seeing the heat waves radiating off of the road in front of us, we noticed on the side of the road a bony, white horse laying in the dead grass, unmoving.

 

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