By Kirsten Dobler June 9, 2015 We taught our first real lesson today! Alex and I designed a math lesson from the grade two curriculums that others before us had developed and it went really well. I was really happy to be working with Alex because she hasn’t really worked with curriculum before and it was really fun to watch things click in her mind. One of the things that I really like is when people get it. It’s happy because they’re happy and it is a nice reflection of the work that I am able to do. Although our lesson plan was designed for grade two students, we made it work with students aged 10-14. We had about 20 students by the end and we quickly discovered that these students are very smart. It seems kind of ridiculous and rude that we wouldn’t assume this, but we were more practicing the lessons from the curriculum that was developed. The students that we were working with were very engaged and got everything that we spoke about. At the end of the day we did the Macarena, which they love, and then they sang a song for us. The song was really nice because they used our names, but then they started to sing in English and I got a little bit uncomfortable. The song was saying that they were happy that we came and that they will remember us when and if we return. It was really quite sad because I began to reflect on how many people have come and gone from villages just like this. These children knew the song like the back of their hand and I wish that we were not such a novelty to them. We talk a lot about glamourizing minorities in social justice education and I always try to keep this from happening in my mind and actions, but I have never thought that I would be glamourized. We come to third world countries and we are showered with love and happiness from children and it’s so easy to forget that we are soon going to leave these children until one day when the next group comes in. One of our main goals in this project is to avoid the Madonna complex where we come in and act as saviors, but I never critically thought about how we are thought of by the local people that we are working with. We know how we want to be viewed, but it can be really difficult to change the minds of the people that are around us and how they view us. As we attempt to act as catalysts in our new environment we are not always looked at as such. There are even some times when I’m with the children and they are all looking at me, waiting for me to do something like I’m a jester. It comes down to always having to act as a role model and to hold yourself as a person that acts as a leader; which is something that we have to practice as teachers in the real world. So, I guess that once you are a teacher you always have to act like a teacher.
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By Taylor Lowery June 7th Time is both slow and fast here. A general routine fills the day allowing for time to pass, yet the tranquility of just “being” and “doing” seems to stop time in its place. The work feels easy, fun and creative. I’ve come to realize that when you are confident in what you are doing it is easy to feel comfortable; when tasks fall within your realm of understanding it is easy to feel competent and it is easy to be yourself. This comfort is a feeling I am very weary of. Wasn’t I on this adventure to get away from my comforts? Wasn’t this the time to step into something a little more unknown? I have been told that learning comes when you are outside your comfort zone- that box that you draw just around the perimeter of what you know and of what you are used to. This theory is known to Education students through the Education Psychologist, Lev Vygotsky, who called this your Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD), the zone of what you can achieve when you receive scaffolding to step just outside of what you can already do on your own. So following this theory, I must move past that work which I feel most comfortable doing and into an area which I feel more uncomfortable. Once I reflected on this I realized that what scares me most right now is my comfort in this project and the notion that soon I should probably step out of it. If I could peel apart the layers of this comfort, I might find that what give me the most shelter is the interactions I choose to surround myself with. If I wish to fully immerse myself in this experience I think I need to gain some confidence in engaging in dialogue- not with my young adult peers, not with the English speaking cooks, or our Malawian teacher friends- but in dialogue that is not convenient; dialogue that must be worked towards, and translated; some dialogue that requires me to sit in discomfort. From my readings on Freire, he speaks dialogues praise, and in fact dismantles any development (Pedagogy) work that does not include dialogue at its core. This is what I realized I needed help doing. My father likes to say, ” You are only a stranger until you say hello”. I hoped to get a little further than this. I decided to bring my concerns to the attention of the group. We decided to set up meetings with four of the nearby villages to talk about Education and their ideas on its future place here. One person expressed some apprehension, “how about if we don’t like what we hear? Aren’t we trying to bring a different perspective to Education? Don’t we want to be different?” I thought about this for a second but questioned that without dialogue how would we even know where to start and develop if we don’t know the current ideas, attitudes and realities? How can this school’s curriculum (the work we are here to help construct) serve the community if we don’t even bother to ask? Dr. Stonebanks suggested we have discussion groups with just the woman as they would be the only ones to give us an honest opinion, and not just what they thought we “wanted to hear.” Meetings were arranged then changed, then rescheduled due to funerals…then etcetera, etcetera… but they finally took place. Debriefing afterwards illuminated a lot, confirmed other things and also changed some of our original lesson focuses. I will not go into detail here about the conversations as I have already done a lot of reflection and as I am sure others are blogging about these conversations so I wish not to saturate the topic. What I do want to express however, is the amount of joy I felt when I recognized a familiar butterfly in my stomach just prior to our meeting with these women. I also really reveled in the awkward moments during the actual conversations, such as when I was offered cooked corn from a toddler and when the women asked us for a water well. This was the feeling I was searching for, the evidence that I was stepping out of the comfort and into the unknown. By Natchisiri (Froy Choi) Kunaporn Growing up, I see myself as an active listener and a nosey observer. I look up at the clouds and never fail to see some sort of picture. There was a period when I was convinced that I was a cloud expert. In long car rides, as the cloud moves along with us, I can go on forever about what is happening up there. I also love listening and looking for the changes in tone and expression so if charisma is a person, I am her audience. A lot of unexpected events happened today. Other than exchanging a portrait of the contractor for the use of the ladder through the course of the project to finishing a third of the mural design, the massive wall of the community hall is already being plastered by my newly made friend. I spent nearly the whole day with him, surprisingly the language barrier did not affect my learning, and I observed what he was doing. The owner of the tuck shop helped me translate some sentences which surprisingly are not technical at all, especially when I was learning how to plaster a wall. ‘Iwe Sekerera’ means you are smiling or literally ‘you smile’; I kept saying that to the man plastering the wall when he wasn’t smiling as much, as a gesture to reassure myself to stay out of guilt for not being so much help to him (I was terrible at throwing the cement to the wall). Because I was saying that multiple times to him, it was our own personal greeting style. It reminded me that nourishment was necessary when building relationships, and observing is the way to go. Sometimes when I spend too much time looking at the wall, it gets bigger, and I have felt very discouraged about my project because of how I want it to have a very high impact. The book I am reading now is called ‘About Looking’ written by John Berger. He is a critic and writes a lot of small chapters on all different kinds of art. A quote from a French book during 1950’s about La Tour when translated is “Painting is a magic interpretation of the most profound thoughts and the most beautiful dream” (112), which sheds a bit of light to my doubts. An idea does not happen in a day, it requires a lot of trust and research and a lot of looking. However, being creative has a great burden to it. For example, when we suggested that the mosquito nets could be used as a football net, it sounded like a very good idea at first but Dr. Stonebanks told us that when fishermen were using the mosquito nets as fishing nets, the rates for Malaria shot up exponentially. If I can ever master the art of looking, I am pretty sure I will become a cloud expert when I retire. References Berger, J. (1980). About looking. New York, NY: Pantheon Books By Vicki Miller A little girl, about eight-years old, walked into The Community Center to participate in our After School program. The very first thing I noticed was the curiosity in her eyes. She didn’t say anything as the children got into two circles. She simply looked on and stood with everyone else. I also noticed a small child, no more than two-years-old, tied to her back wrapped in her chitenje. The young two year old girl had the same look of curiosity in her eyes as her older sister. The older sister sat down next to me as we started a ball-name-game. She untied her sister and placed her down next to her. She continued to pay extremely close attention to her sister and helped her participate in the game. After the program, the little girl retied her sister on her back and crossed the road and out of sight. She is such a young girl with such a different life than I lived when I was eight years old. I would go straight to daycare after school, have a snack, go home, eat dinner, listen to my dad read me a story, then go to bed. I never had more responsibilities than making sure I ate my lunch or that I got on the right bus home. I cannot imagine the great responsibilities this little girl had, like taking care of her sister as well as herself. I am simply awed by this little girl and I am very glad that she continues to be herself and keep a slightly toothless smile on her face. Things to be grateful for: sisters, chitenjes By Jessica Fobert I woke up bright and early this morning to hack away at the moist red soil from last night’s water. My hero Kirsten woke up at 6 am to assist me with digging up the 1 metre deep compost pit. The soil here is not like it is back in Canada. It dries up in the winter seasons and lacks essential nutrients and therefore needs a lot of fertilizer to maintain certain crops. Most of you probably don’t know much about Malawi, but a large number of the population relies on agriculture as a source of income and necessity to life. For that reason, I chose to base my research work around agriculture and to provide a sustainable way of farming for the people of Malawi. My plans are to educate the people in the surrounding villages about the benefits of composting while experimenting with fertilizer versus compost. I hope to inform Malawians about the benefits of composting so that they can learn to live more sustainable. As Kirsten and I hacked at the moistened soil for 2 hours we finally began to see some progress being made. Chief Makupo came to the Campus around 9 am and walked right to the compost pit. He gave us a hand and what Kirsten and I had accomplished in 2 hours, the Chief had completed in 10 minutes! I was astonished at the hard labour that the Chief performed, but as more helpers arrived I noticed that most Malawians are used to this type of work. It seemed much easier to them than it was for Kirsten and me. Malawians are hard working people! Even the children are constantly helping out their families by taking care of siblings, collecting water and working in the fields planting and harvesting crops. Being in Malawi has allowed me to appreciate the easy, laid back life that we live in Canada. I’ve never experienced collecting my own fresh water or walking an hour and a half to reach the closest town; however, this is a part of the daily routines for Malawians. Each day that I am in Malawi I am constantly amazed at the skills and the strenuous work that Malawians perform on a daily basis. I can see that the Transformative Praxis: Malawi group is working their hardest by collaborating with locals to provide a more sustainable lifestyle for Malawians. By Marten Sealy Canada seems such a distant place already. I’ve been absent in my role as a “westerner” for a week so far, cocooning, preparing to return home a new person. What happens in the cocoon, mind you, is a very active process. Living on the new Campus, which is still under construction, is a bizarre sort of stark utopia. The hostel in which we are living is at the heart of the Campus, and during the day it is surrounded by locals whom have been hired as cooks, cleaners, carpenters, painters, security, and more. The employees work hard, but it is not uncommon to find several workers taking a break in the shade between jobs. I’ve found it very rewarding to join them and converse about whatever happens to be on my mind. People tend to have uniquely interesting perspectives which surface as soon as you switch off autopilot, and I’m having no trouble at all achieving that. I think people in any setting strive for genuine human interaction, but colourful ads and screens can distract them. People here don’t get distracted. My co-learner, a phys-ed teacher and football coach at the local secondary school, loves to discuss the differences between his country and Canada. We share a rich dialogue. I practice honesty and modesty, admitting that our wealth can bring comfort to life, but preaching that full bellies and big TVs aren’t the holy grail that they’re built up to be. If there is a life of ultimate quality, then it contains something far more profound. As a footballer, I’ve had punctuality drilled into my head as a key element of respect. Multiple coaches have reinforced: If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. You can show a coach that you’re worth their time by being well nourished, rested, dressed, warmed up, and otherwise fully prepared both mentally and physically before they even arrive. The attitudes in Malawi are different. My co-learner and I have begun referring to the two mentalities as “African time” and “Canadian time”. When deciding upon a meeting time we make sure to distinguish which mentality will be used. When my co-learner arrives before me, he might tease, “today I was the Canadian and you were the African”. These are obviously massive generalizations, but I laugh and accept the title with pride. The reason that 1pm can casually turn into 2 or 3 or 4pm is not just due to a lack of clocks and watches. I walked with my co-learner to visit and deliver a message to six villages yesterday, and it was a great chance to practice my greetings and conversational Chechewa. We stopped to chat with villagers somewhere between 50-100 times along the way. Greetings in Chechewa are very thorough. When you run into a group, you often greet each individual separately, and when a group is meeting with another group, the time taken is multiplied. Even though we had a lot of ground to cover, there wasn’t the faintest sense that we were in a rush. We’ll get there when we get there. We walked for hours in the hot sun, and my legs became tired, but my mind was still fresh. My thoughts were racing the entire time, but distance covered is not what tires the mind. It is the burden of stress that saps the mind of its energy – I vow to be forever weary of accumulating stress after I return to Canada. By Taylor Lowery Unprepared, but totally authentic. I had just finished writing a to-do list when I walked past the community center and was greeted by a group of adolescent boys. I asked one of their names, as one generally does upon first meeting, and thought to write down what I heard. Suddenly about 15 kids crowded around and I had them say their name and repeat it back to them to clarify. Then I wrote down what I heard phonetically. Mostly they just laughed because I have probably said something ridiculous, such as “I eat my fingers for lunch.”100’s of times I repeated and they laughed or they nodded, or the older ones even took the pencil from me and wrote their names properly. That chorus of laughter is ingrained in my mind now; their laughs and those smiles. I think I have gained a companion on that day. She sat beside me the whole time and corrected my pronunciation, breaking it up into syllables for me. She was very patient and always cushioned her feedback with a smile, giving me permission to smile back. This game of “help Taylor remember your names” was played for an hour. Different kids coming in and out of the huddle, more laughs and smiles, and still that little teacher by my side. We played until my paper was full of names written in every different direction and all different handwriting. I could tell that these were patient kids and so eager to be a part of the learning process. But mostly, I could tell that this pencil I had in my hand was a BIG deal. And of course, so was my skin colour. Forward to the next day- this experience still in my mind and my overwhelming feelings of privilege standing strong. I had a conversation with a young mother, whose child I had met the day before. I asked her how receptive she would be to send her 10 year old to an after school program run through Praxis Malawi. When she seemed open to the idea I asked what she might like her daughter to learn at this program. She thought for a second and then responded, “I would like her to learn to be just like you.” I smiled, slowly said “we will see what we can do,” and she left. And I started to cry. Not knowing exactly what was meant by her request, I could only think to interpret it as, “I want you to give my child the same opportunities that you seem to have, to be here and to have all these great things happening to you.” Or maybe she just meant that she wants her daughter to speak English, or to be inquisitive, confident, educated or… maybe she meant to be white. Whatever her meaning, the task seemed impossible. I am the way I am because I was lucky enough to be born into a world where nothing was out of reach; a world where I always had access to a pencil. It is possible I am extrapolating, as in the moment I didn’t have the emotional capacity to clarify what she meant by “be just like you” but for some reason, this beautiful compliment was wrapped in such sadness. I am told that this feeling is understandable and as prescribed in the steps of culture shock I am smack dab in the middle of the Disintegration phase (Pedersen, 1995). The excitement of our first day welcome over, and now the tag team of guilt and helplessness have moved in and will probably be tenants for awhile. Hopefully their lease will be up in a couple days and I can rent some more productive feelings. References Pederson, P. (1995). The five Stages of culture shock: critical incidents around the world. Westport, C.T: Greenwood Press. By Amber Fortin I think culture shock has begun hitting me. I catch myself in Penderson’s (1995) Honeymoon stage in culture shock, often because I am constantly in awe at the beauty of Malawi. I am so grateful to be here and I do not want to take any moment of this experience for granted. I have dreamed of travelling across Africa my whole life; watching discovery channel in amazement at the diversity and foreign animals, so I wanted to witness it with my own eyes. Yet the beauty cannot hide the poverty here in the villages. The poverty is difficult to swallow and adjust to, especially seeing it every day. Despite all the reasons to be sad here I am witnessing happiness in the smallest things which Westerners take for granted; Whether this is because Malawians regard the ‘azungu’, white presence, as saviors or just the beauties in life. I find myself frustrated by the kids’ excitement due to my skin color and their awe in just merely watching me like I am an extinct animal and it’s a miracle that I am in front of them. Many of the kids are so young that they have never seen someone of another skin tone. I am also becoming increasingly frustrated at Western culture and our society. The priorities I had and that others have are not truly important. Feelings of selfishness and shame are embedded in me looking back at my own life and what I have taken for granted for so long, such as clean water or even running water. I knew before but until you witness it and live with it, you cannot understand. Here some women and children must walk 1 km with a large pail of water on their heads and a baby on their backs to get back home. I am constantly astounded at the strength of the people here. I just wish I could do more, that I could actually help but money is not necessarily what is needed here. Creative problem solving, entrepreneurship, understanding and empowerment are what I hope to leave here. References Pederson, P. (1995). The five Stages of culture shock: critical incidents around the world. Westport, C.T: Greenwood Press. By Kassandra Norrie Dear Madonna, A few weeks ago as I was preparing to leave for Malawi and excitedly telling my friends about Transformative Praxis: Malawi I heard your name over and over again. The only time that most of my friends had heard of Malawi was in relation to your adopted children and the charitable work done by your organization Raising Malawi. When I told people I was coming to Malawi I was often cut off with, “that’s where Madonna’s kids are from” or “Madonna built a school there”. I had heard about both of these statements before but never really thought about either or done any research of my own. People at home in Canada make a happy connection when thinking of Malawi and Madonna, so I thank you for making little Malawi known to the world but that is where my thanks stop. I landed in Lilongwe two weeks ago and have since been living in the Kasungu region of Malawi. When speaking with other educators in Malawi your name does not provoke the same reaction here as it does at home. I was in disbelief when I was told that you have never actually built a school here. Really Madonna? If I was home I would have just Googled this on my phone. But today I had to get a ride to Kasungu Town to the closest internet café. I waited for what seemed like forever as the dialup connection was made because I wanted to know the truth. I opened webpage after webpage and they all said the same two things 1) despite millions being spent the Raising Malawi Academy For Girls project never broke ground 2) you claim to have built ten schools when really you have only renovated and built classrooms on existing government schools. Madonna, it really seems like you are overstating your contributions here in Malawi. I heard about land that was given to you to build your school for girls, I read every word written on the Raising Malawi website, and I even saw the promotional pictures of you laying the first brick, but is that all it was? Promotional? And what were you promoting exactly? Yourself being a philanthropist or the fact that schools are desperately needed right now in Malawi. The tiny eight room school block near our campus site hosts 1434 primary students, so I really hope those promotional pictures were about the desperate need for schools in Malawi and not all about your image. During my rushed research in the tiny internet café today I found lots of numbers about your budget so I’m going to use the smallest figures I saw to not overstate any contributions (as some of us are here). Your project had a budget of $15 million to work with and you spent $2.4 million before even breaking ground, so now I have some questions for you, because maybe I am confused.
7. Do you have any idea what I could do if I had a budget of $15 million to put towards education in Malawi? Madonna, we have one thing in common, we don’t like to hear the word “no” from anyone. For very different reasons I believe. You are the pop star who thinks it’s okay to ask a third world country to roll out the red carpet for you when you wave around money in the name of education. I on the other hand, won’t allow people to say “no” to me when I am doing what I know is right and good. Again, correct me if I am wrong: You may have come to Malawi with great and honourable intentions, but you got lost and gave up. You promised education to some of the neediest girls in the world and then you took it away. You made a promise of elite education, but then renovated some classrooms instead. You claimed to be dedicated to helping the extreme poor and orphaned children of Malawi, but then spent $2.4 million that cannot be accounted for. You heard the word “no” and then you gave up. This is where we are different. I have been told “no” many times in the field of education, and every time I do it makes me fight harder. I was told “no” when I thought I could not come to Malawi this year, but with the support of amazing people I am here. I was told “no” when lack of funding jeopardized student projects and experiential learning, but I raised money with only a few weeks left before our departure (and I can’t throw concerts for my rich celebrity friends on the North Lawn of the United Nations in New York). I was told “no” when my team was hit with issue after issue after arriving on site in Chilanga, but we found solutions together every time. You may hate to hear the word “no”, but at least it does not take the fight out of me. I am not making accusations; these are real questions that I am posing to you. Madonna, I have to ask you again: Do you have any idea what I could do if I had a budget of $15 million to put towards education in Malawi? I’m not quite sure either. But I am imagining it now, and it’s a heck of a lot more than one school for girls that never broke ground. Sincerely, Kassandra Norrie P.S. Why don’t you take a chance on us and see what Transformative Praxis: Malawi can do with the rest of your $15 million? By Kimberly Gregory There is not inherent truth to what gender is. Gender is a socially constructed identity and its meaning, which is constantly in flux, is determined by the context in which it arises. Gender inequality in Africa was reinforced by colonialism. Marc Epprecht (1998) explains the way in which colonial rule reinforced the customary imperative to reproduce, as it became a necessity for upward social mobility. Having many wives was also helpful for economic gain, as it provided them with access to more fields. Thus, in this historical context, in order to flourish, it was almost necessary to be a heterosexual. Individuals internalized the social expectations of gender norms and they behaved accordingly; the men dominated and married several women for increased capital. This also helps to shed light in one of the reasons why homosexuality was denied in many parts of Africa, it stood outside these gender norms. Amina Mama, (2001) states that, “gender in all of its diverse manifestations, has long been a central organizing principle of African societies, past and present” (p.69). The colonial era shaped African masculinity, which in turn shaped femininity. The colonizers emasculated African men by undermining their “ability to attain signifiers of social manhood” (Epprecht, 1998, p.641). Grown men were oppressed and treated like children. The objective for most was to become a “real man” by acquiring a submissive and fertile wife, getting land and supporting a growing family (Epprecht, 1998, p.641). Hence, directly shaping desired gender roles in African society. As a result, African men felt the need to overtly assert their masculinity. One way that they did this was by exercising power over women which was reflected in the increased number of rapes (Mismang, 2015). It is important to note that many countries in Africa have been striving for gender equality since the colonial era. Today, there is an increased role of women in African politics. Ngoni Okonjo-Iweala became the first female finance minister in Nigeria; Liberia’s president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf is one of a handful of elected female heads of state in the world; the former president of Malawi, Joyce Banda was also a female. Pipits Nyong’o’s Oscar win and Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche’s literary successes have brought attentions to the artistic triumphs of a younger generation of women (Mismang, 2015). Thus, when women use their agency they can defy gender norms and stereotypes. Nonetheless, “the distance between this development and the reality of the overwhelming number of girls and women everywhere is vast and seemingly unbridgeable” (Kaplan, 2008, p.41). Still today, life for many women in African countries is extremely brutal (Kaplan, 2008, p.41). In many places, “women still have no rights at all, they are legally considered to be minors, their lives in the hands of their husbands” (Kaplan, 2008, p.41). Specifically, I have noticed that gender inequality still prevails in the Kuwumba region of Malawi. For instance, when I went to the Praxis Malawi Community Centre yesterday I ended up reading to a group of young children. When I asked them questions about the stories, the women would always put their heads down and let the men answer for them. Even when I specifically pointed to a young girl, said her name and asked her to answer, she did not (even though I knew that she had the ability to). This was reminiscent of the behavior that I had witnessed with certain adults from the surrounding communities during my last visit here. During our visit at the Chilanga Elementary School, some of my colleagues witnessed something that confirmed the phenomena that I had observed. The students were asked to work in groups and they naturally divided themselves based on gender. The boys worked with the boys and the girls with the girls. When the professor was asked why they were divided this way, he explained that if they do not divide them this way, the girls will not participate. Systematically separating them in school makes it challenging to strive for equality. Another moment that I noticed that boys and girls were separated based on gender was when the children were playing soccer and the girls did not want to play soccer with the boys because they insisted that it was a “boys sport”. This was also the case when the boys were asked to play netball; they explained that it was a “girls sport”. The children are in the habit of separating themselves based on gender, thus it occurs naturally even outside of the classroom, which once again, makes it challenging to develop equal relationships amongst genders. One of the local community members that I am working with on this project discussed the issue of gender inequality with me, she explained to me that women in this region tend to hold traditional gender roles; they stay at home, cook, clean, take care of the children, etc. She also explained that women are much more likely to drop out of school early because they must take on these various responsibilities at home. Another reason that they sometimes drop out of school early is because of early marriages. Men and women, young or old seem to take on dichotomized gender roles in the Kuwumba region of Malawi. The curriculum that my colleagues and I are constructing during our time here is for a charter school, therefore it is my objective to empower women and break the gender norms that prevent them from full participation in society. We started working on the grade 3 curriculum today. In the first unit, we have included many conversations about democracy within the classroom. Specifically, how both boys and girls have an equal right to voice their opinions. Hopefully, the ideologies that children will develop in the classroom concerning this matter will later be transposed onto society as whole. References Mismang (2015). The backlash against African women. Mama, Amina. Challenging subject: Gender and power in Africa contexts. Africa sociological review, 5. (2) 2001. Epprecht, Marc. The unsaying of indigenous homosexualities in Zimbabwe: Mapping African masculinity. 1998. Caplan, Kaplan. (2008). The betrayal of Africa. |
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About the BlogFrom 2013 to 2017 students participating in Transformative Praxis: Malawi wrote blog posts reflecting on their experiences of participating in action research in Malawi. Archives
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