Thursday, September 8, 2011

History in the Making

(Written on 5/15/2011 from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam)

Why is it that the first restaurant I’ve been to in Vietnam (and one that was recommended to me) happens to be a pho chain that also has locations in the state of Oregon.  As soon as I saw that after ordering and closing the menu, it spoiled the authenticity of the meal for me.  Although, it didn’t stop me from slurping down my rice noodles with salad, pork, and shrimp so it couldn’t have been too disheartening.

With every trip I take outside of my hotel, I find myself in awe of something new.  Take for example the gatherings of people every night in the park in front of the hotel – older folks are ballroom dancing under a gazebo, while a group of 10 kids learn a hip hop dance routine, and there is a karate class practicing on the parking lot pavement.
Yesterday, I unfortunately witnessed a young boy “taking care of business” in a Tupperware bin on the side of the freeway, assisted by his father who had pulled over the family motor scooter.  I was shocked, and apparently everybody else on the tourist bus was as well.  But it didn’t seem to faze the locals as a young lady whizzed by on her scooter – decked out in fake Gucci high heels, skinny jeans, a purple blouse, purple scarf, and matching purple crochet helmet cover.  She wasn’t exactly my vision of a “biker chick.”  And although motorcycles and scooters aren’t used for “cool factor” here, I have to believe that by the sheer variety of helmets (which are more like hard baseball caps)…they are in fact a fashion statement.
Helmets aplenty, helmets galore!
Among my unique experiences – one that stands out significantly is my recent trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, an intricate tunnel system where the Viet Cong hid and lived underground during the Vietnam War.  I was lucky enough to fall into a group led by Mr. Binh (pronounced Mr. Bean!), an ex-U.S. Navy serviceman who himself had fought against the Viet Cong.  Originally born Filipino, Mr. Binh entered the U.S. Navy and never returned to the U.S. after the war.  He later told me it was because he hated American food.  Fair enough.
Mr. Binh explaining about the tunnels
Mr. Binh’s stories and firsthand accounts were captivating.  As we walked around the tunnel site, he detailed stories of fighting beside John McCain and John Kerry.  He told us about the tricks and strategies of the Viet Cong that kept them alive and hidden for so many years as they outwitted the Americans.  One example was how the Viet Cong masked their scents – stealing trash from the U.S. base to place over the tunnel air holes so the U.S. dogs wouldn’t pick up any unfamiliar scents when sniffing above ground. 
One of the doors the Viet Cong used to enter the tunnels

Mr. Binh pointing out one of the tunnel air holes
Explaining how the "Asian squat" was a useful technique for the Viet Cong

Squeezing through the tiny tunnels - 12 m deep
I was amazed by the tunnels themselves, but even more fascinated by the man who was sharing the stories.  Towards the close of the tour, 4 new Canadian friends that I met asked me if I’d like to take Mr. Binh to dinner so we could hear more stories.  Back in Ho Chi Minh City, we glugged down refreshing drinks at the restaurant Mr. Binh recommended as he ordered on behalf of the unknowing tourists.  

After Mr. Binh was quite a few Vietnamese 333 beers in (I think he must have downed 5 of them)…his true emotions started surfacing.  In his no longer perfect English, his eyes teared up and his face got red as he expressed the heartbreak he’d experienced.  He shared about the true feelings that accompany him every time he guides people above those tunnels, and the horrible things he’d witnessed happen to comrades who were good men.
Our personal table trash can
My tour ended with an unexpected, eye-opening dinner, and a man who had pledged his loyalty to the U.S. many years ago.  His stories were full of honorable men, and pride in his American status.  It couldn’t have been a bigger contrast to the way the tour began – with an old video from the Viet Cong perspective.  It was showing Viet Cong that were honored and showered with medals and praise for killing Americans.  Young kids were touted for their gun fighting skills and abilities to root out the enemy (the Americans). 
It was shocking to hear the praises that others were given for taking the lives of my own neighbors.  And my heart sank at the thought of celebrating over deaths that others considered tragedies.  But the reality is that since the Vietnam War, this has happened time and time again.
My thought for you today is to consider the two sides to every story.  History is told from different perspectives – and it was clear to me after my tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels that facts can be portrayed as victories and triumphs as easily as they can be portrayed as losses and defeats.  I encourage you to question your sources, and their motivations behind how they tell stories.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

(Written on 5/14/2011 from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam)

After jumping from Tel Aviv to Istanbul to Bangkok to Ho Chi Minh City I arrived in Vietnam at the airport – completely exhausted and with no plans, no hotel, no wifi, and no clue.  Thankfully, after a few months of travelling I’ve gotten used to the nomad mentality and am comfortable navigating my own way through uncertain circumstances.  Although, in this particular situation I think “unprepared” was even an understatement.
Thanks to my brilliant sense of direction (okay…quite honestly it was thanks to the taxi driver and my new found millionaire status – it’s 20,000 Vietnamese Dong to $1 USD) I managed to find my way to downtown Ho Chi Minh City.  As we whizzed by full families of 4 on motorbikes and inched between trucks and cars, I held my breath and stared out the window in awe.  Thank GOD I did not have to navigate my way through this treacherous traffic….I can guarantee if I had a rental car I would have taken out half the city.

When I arrived to the “recommended” hotel by the taxi driver, a young man crossed the street to the cab, helped me with my luggage and in broken, yet very stern and serious English said, “Cross when I cross.  Stay with me.”  It’s a good thing I follow directions because for my first ever street crossing in Vietnam, an escort was very, very necessary.
That night when I finally decided to venture outside the safety and security (and air conditioning) of the hotel sliding doors, fear of crossing the street by myself kept me from going anywhere except for the same block as the hotel. 
They may as well forget about painting lanes on the streets here because the constant flow of traffic – trucks, cars, bicycles, scooters – weaves in and out wherever it wants to.  And the only reason traffic in one direction stops isn’t because the light turns red, but actually because the cars in the other direction just start moving.
After being careful to only take left turns and stay on the sidewalk, I found a little street stand underneath a faux tent (made out of blankets hung on street lamps) and with those little Fisher Price tables and chairs you used to play with as a child.  I plopped down until I was on the chair (and about 6 inches off the ground) and continued to order (or try to) some eggs and fried rice cakes.  The food was good but not the biggest or best I’ve ever had.  But for 75 U.S. cents, I think it was sufficient for a sleepy night and a hungry girl.  J

On day 2…I CROSSED THE STREET!  This was in fact a triumphant moment for me – that I actually made it across alive.  Once both feet touched down on the opposite sidewalk, I looked down at my toes in disbelief.  I checked to make sure all limbs were intact, and I grinned from ear to ear, content with my clearly Darwinian ability to survive.  I nearly broke out in a happy dance…but since none of the locals were rejoicing for their own victories, I kept on moving…
Now let me give you some “Crossing the Street in Ho Chi Minh City 101”…the crazy thing is if you walk slowly, not stopping, and not making any sudden movements then the cars and scooters and busses will weave around you.  It's like playing real life Frogger – as I step out into rushing traffic, my pulse quickens as I stare at cars and bikes that look like they are coming directly for me.  I’m convinced that crossing the street would in fact be safer if I were blindfolded and walked at a slow pace.

This picture doesn't even do the traffic justice
Once I (yayyy!!) made it to the market I stopped in the “food court” for beef pho, a sweet Lotus drink, and caved when I saw some mangosteen at a stand.  1 dollar later I was trotting back to the hotel to tear into my favorite fruit.  Okay…admittedly I was distracted for a bit by a street hawker with pork and rice.  But right after that (oh yeah…and ice cream) I got back to the hotel and started to devour my sweet little pretty fruits (insert voice of the Wicked Witch….I must have some weird obsession with that movie because it keeps coming to mind).

Unfortunately the mangosteen weren’t totally ripe but they did bring back great memories of my trip to Malaysia in 2009 with my aunt and uncle.  I walked in on my aunt devouring 2 kilos of the fruit by herself, squatted over a trash can in the hotel.  She looked like a child caught red handed with a jar of cookies…and ever since then it’s burned into my memory as “mangosteen of shame.”
My aunt's mangosteen addiction in action...
As I passed out I continued my love affair with mangosteen in my dreams until I was up again…heading off to the market for the 2nd time.  I met up with a chef who was leading a Vietnamese cooking course, and he took us through the market.  I found out that the “food court” opens up at 2 or 3 AM everyday so they can feed all the other employees in the market while they prep to sell their seafood, meat, fruits, coffee, herbs, clothes, shoes, bags and everything else you could imagine.

Back above the Hoa Tuc restaurant, Chef Phoun led our class through 3 magnificent recipes.  Fresh spring rolls to die for (with peanut sauce), a char-grilled beef salad, and Vietnamese fried rice wrapped in lotus leaves.  Watch out folks…I’ve got more recipes and more to cook for you when I get home.  J

Peanut Sauce

Fresh Spring Rolls

Char-grilled Beef Salad

Lotus Fried Rice
Today my question for you is when was the last time you had people over for a fantastic and fun meal?  Not one of those days or parties where you felt obligated, busy, and too stressed to cook.  But a day you truly enjoyed with friends or family and worked together to make a final product.  I encourage you to set up a “dinner date” cooking experience with a few people.  I always think cooking with others is better than just cooking for others, because you get to enjoy the time together.  Have fun!

Peanut Sauce (from Vietnam)

Compliments of Hoa Tuc - makes 1/2 cup


2 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons Hoisin sauce
1 teaspoon crunchy peanut butter
1 teaspoon crushed peanuts
.5 - 1 teaspoon of minced garlic
.5 - 1 teaspons minced red chili


Prepare and mix all ingredients in a bowl and stir well.  Adjust chili to your taste and add more Hoisin sauce if you prefer a more salty flavor.  Serve with fresh spring rolls and enjoy!

Fresh Spring Rolls (from Vietnam)

Compliments of Hoa Tuc - 12 rolls


About 20 shrimp
Rice noodles
12 rice paper - or a few more in case they break
12 green lettuce leaves sliced Julienne
Fresh basil
Fresh mint
Bean sprouts


Prepare the shrimp - in a sauce pan bring water with a pinch of salt to a boil over medium heat.  Add the shrimp and simmer for 1 or 2 minutes until pink.  Remove the shrimp.  Peel and cut in 2 parts and then set aside.

Prepare the pork - heat oil in a wok over medium heat.  Sear pork for 1 to 2 minutes until lightly browned on all sides.  When pork cools, thinly slice it into bite size pieces.

Wrapping the rolls - To make the fresh rolls, quickly dip a rice paper wrapper in a bowl of water until it is soft (or wet the paper just a bit by dipping your fingers in water and running it across the top).  Remove the rice paper and place on a dry surface, smoothing it out with your fingers.  Like a burrito, on one side of the rice paper place the lettuce and then the rice noodles and top with some basil, mint, chili, and bean sprouts.  Add a line of pork then a line of 3 pieces of shrimp.  Fold the 2 sides parallel and roll up tightly, pressing to seal.

Serve the fresh spring rolls with a bowl of peanut sauce on the side and enjoy!

Char-grilled Beef Salad (from Vietnam)

Compliments of Hoa Tuc - Serves 4

Sticky fish sauce dressing:

4 tablespoons of lime juice
4 tablespoons of sugar
4 tablespoons of fish sauce
2 teaspoons of minced garlic
2 teaspoons of deseeded, minced chili

Mix all ingredients until the sugar is completely dissolved, and set aside.

Marinated beef:

1/3 lb of beef filet
A bit of chopped lemongrass
A bit of chopped garlic
2 pinches of pepper
Vegetable oil

Mix together all ingredients and marinate the beef filet for about 20 minutes in the sauce.  Char-grill the beef and then let cool.  Cut into small pieces (about 3-4 cm in length).  Set aside.


A bit of finely chopped lemongrass
2 kumquats, well washed and then thinly sliced
3 small white eggplants cut into wedges
About 1/4 lb mustard sprouts
About 1/4 lb chopped green salad
A bit of chopped Vietnamese leaves (such as basil and mint)
2 pinches of sesame seeds

Mix all the ingredients for the salad, including a bit of the sticky fish sauce dressing.  Place the mixture on a serving platter and top with the slices of beef and the sesame seeds.  You can pour more of the sticky fish sauce dressing over the top, right before serving.  Enjoy!

Lotus Fried Rice (from Vietnam)

Compliments of Hoa Tuc - serves 4


2/3 lb Jasmine rice - pre-cooked, cooled down, and kept cold ready for use
2/3 lb prawns, boiled in salted water and diced
2/3 lb cooked and diced chicken filet
1/3 lb Chinese sausage - diced and boiled in water for 3 minutes
2 dried lotus leaves softened in boiling water
6 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 medium size carrot, peeled and diced
1/3 lb lotus seeds - pre-soaked, remove green shoots from the center and cook gently for 20 minutes
1/2 bunch of fresh cilantro, finely chopped stems only
1 bunch of spring onions, cut into 1/2 cm width
2 red chilies, deseeded and finely chopped

Seasoning - 2 tablespoons fish sauce and 1/2 teaspoon  ground white or black pepper


In a wok heat 3 tablespoons of cooking oil on high heat.  Add shallots and garlic and fry until fragrant.  Add all the ingredients (except the rice and spring onion), seasoning with the fish sauce.  Fry for a few minutes and then add the cooked rice and spring onion.  Stir fry for about 4 more minutes. 

Spread out the lotus leaf into a rice bowl, fill with the fried rice and pack it tight.  Fold the two sides of the leaf to the center into a tight package, then fold the two ends together and cover with saran wrap.  Let it steam for 3 minutes and then remove wrap.  Flip the lotus package upside down on a plate, and cut an "x" with the tip of a knife.  Open each side like petals of a lotus and enjoy your beautiful, tasty creation!

Monday, August 22, 2011

Dance Dance Revolution

(Written on 5/11/2011 en route to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam)
6 AM… my world….is an ungodly hour.  And the day I left the Ashram was little exception...but the prospect of a day filled with more than vegetables and rice did sweeten the sound of my alarm clock a tad bit.  As Robin and I waited along the empty desert road for the first bus to roll by, we unknowingly flagged down a tour bus instead of a regular bus.  When the cheery driver cocked the door open, he asked if we were going to Tel Aviv and if we wanted a ride. If it meant 10 minutes closer to the Promised Land (aka anywhere with meat)….I was on board.  Literally and figuratively.

Robin explaining how old she is

How sweet it is to have pita and chicken!!
We enjoyed our early morning ride – the sun peeking out over the desert and the 3 young military men on the bus gawking at Robin when they found out that she was (shock!) old enough to be their mother, when they were ready and willing (and already) hitting on her.

Upon our return to Tel Aviv, James, Malak and I tried to convince Robin to extend her flight by one day so she could stay for Independence Day on May 10th.  We did not prevail.  Alas…some people still have responsibilities to return home to.  J  So in honor of her last day in Israel, we finally got a chance to parrrr-tay!  Our first stop (yum)….was watermelon and feta cheese on the beach.  Followed by drinks, followed by barbecue chicken on a tiny BBQ on the patio of James’ apartment, followed by dancing at a club, followed by laughing, until followed by…Robin’s departure at 3 AM when James and his friend Ross took her to the airport. :(

Although my cousin, my link to James and Malak, flew off in the middle of the night, they were still happy (or so they seemed) to have me around the house.  They took me to the park to celebrate Independence Day…and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a mass exodus of people from their homes to the public parks.  Every bench and seat was taken.  Every parking lot was full.  And every BBQ was overflowing with food. 
The energy of this young country’s people was vibrant and excited.  There was a group that was literally riding around on the top of a van – dancing, singing on megaphones, and waving their flag with exuberant pride.  Despite my desperate need for re-hydration and a Taco Time chicken soft taco with Mexi Fries (it was a rough night), I couldn’t help but feel the contagious energy take me over.  I felt blessed to partake in such a joyous celebration and to be welcomed with open arms into family parties and gatherings.

At the end of the night, I finally got to see James in action.  I can’t believe I’ve failed to mention that James and all of his friends are breakdancers (yes….I said breakdancers!)…the celebrities of Israel.  He even got stopped on the way to the park by some questionably odd mascots who asked to take a picture with him.  Although I wanted to bust a move with the rest of the crew…I was (oddly and surprisingly) intimidated…probably a little too afraid of channeling Kevin James from his infamous dance moves in Hitch (the Q tip was my fave…).

The dancing didn’t end there.  On my last day in Israel, I followed Ross around to work like a lost puppy until he took me to the airport.  To my surprise, “work” consisted of a fieldtrip to a school in Jerusalem where he teaches breakdancing to children.  It turns out that it’s becoming hugely popular in Israel and many schools have hired his crew for physical education (you can check them out at  As soon as we walked in the room, the group of 10 year olds started screaming his name, jumping up and down, and bouncing around – clearly excited for their one day per week breakdance lesson.  And once the music started blaring through the speakers, the bass shaking my seat, the kids all fell into line, mesmerized by Ross and mimicking his every move. 

I got to thinking about all the crisis in the U.S. about child obesity and physical education….maybe it’s time we spice things up a bit and actually get kids excited?  Then again…as a gluttonous food blogger, I'm not so sure I have a leg to stand on when it comes to preaching about exercise.  Have at it, Michelle Obama.
Although I was amused with the kids, they were probably more amused by me (or distracted by my presence).  Every time the music shut off, a gaggle of girls flocked to me, rattling off Hebrew (which I clearly didn’t understand), as I became increasingly socially awkward trying to explain to a group of rambunctious ten year old girls that I couldn’t understand.  Until finally….the international language of “Justin Bieber” broke the silence.  Thanks again, Beebs.
As my last day in Israel came to a close at the Tel Aviv airport, I “Sherpa-ed” my luggage, and headed toward the ticket counter to start off on yet another journey.  Just when I thought my day couldn’t be more eventful…it got more eventful (obviously). 
Long story short – before I was able to check in for my flight, I went through the most rigorous security screening I’ve ever experienced.  And after an hour and a half, multiple rounds of questioning, removal of every item from my luggage, and a private pat down, I was feeling invaded, saddened, and frustrated.  My (natural) rage started rising, my temperature increased by tenfold, and my blood was boiling.  Then….something happened.  I caught myself.  I took a deep breath, I remembered my Mom’s parting words for my journey, and I tried to calm myself down.
I (my rational self) told myself (my normal, crazy, irrational self), “In the scheme of things, this is not a big deal.  I just got a small taste of the treatment many people have gotten far worse than me.  And maybe instead of getting angry about this moment, I can use it to be more empathetic and understand the frustrations that others have when they’re faced with similar situations.”
Wow….was this what my inner voice of reason sounded like?!  Is this what growing up feels like?  Where did this cool, calm, collected version of myself come from?  Or was this just “the calm before the storm” as my grandmother used to say right before one of my blood-curdling, hell-raising, (mostly childhood) scream sessions.  Thankfully, whatever it was….it was not the latter.
Empathy hasn’t always been my strong suit…but it’s something that is developing.  It’s easy to get caught up in your own life, in your own shoes (I wear a size 8 – 8 ½ and prefer heels…in case anybody is wondering J)…without truly removing yourself from your biases.  If you have the gift of being able to remove yourself from a situation and evaluate it from a different perspective, you benefit from a greater understanding.
In Psych 101, I remember learning about fundamental attribution error (probably the only thing that I remember).  When you make a mistake it’s easy to attribute it to an outside factor as in… “Yeah, I cut that guy off but it totally wasn’t my fault because I couldn’t see him from around the corner!”  However, when somebody else makes that mistake it’s easy to attribute it to their inabilities or flaws as in… “Yeah, that guy totally cut me off…because he’s an idiot and a horrible driver!”  Outside factors?  Not possible.
Today if you face any adversity or difficulty….I challenge you to step out of your shoes, and consider the other people(s) in the situation.  Is it a possibility (a tiny itsy bitsy possibility?) that perhaps they aren’t dumb/rude/mean/etc. but there is something else contributing to that?  Good luck my friends…

Monday, July 18, 2011

A Burger a Day...

(Written on 5/7/2011 from Desert Ashram (Shitim), Israel)

I’ve never wanted a burger more in my life than I do right now.  A big, fat, juicy, medium rare, dripping with grease, topped with crispy bacon burger.  I apologize to the vegetarians in the world, but after living like one for 24 hours…I just can’t do it. 
Beyond the food (which is mostly bland vegetables and rice), the Ashram itself is a whole new experience for me.  Let’s just say that “blending in” aren’t the first few words that come to mind.
After we caught a bus in Eilat, it dropped us off in the middle of nowhere in the desert.  Robin and I walked 3 minutes from the road to the Ashram.  It looked like a green oasis in a sea of brown mountains, rocks and sand.  And as we arrived in the “check in” area with tents and mats on the ground, there was no obvious place for us to scream from the mountain tops (or the valleys of the desert) that we had arrived.  As such, we just asked the first person we saw – a young man with a lengthy beard, no shirt, some comfortable linen pants, and a teddy bear.  The guy stared back at us like he had seen ghosts...then walked away.  Welcome.

We were later informed that there was a workshop at the Ashram and most of the guests had taken a 7 day vow of silence.  Great.  Robin and me with a bunch of people who won’t speak to us.  This should be interesting.

On our first evening, after roaming the desert a bit (which we later found out was a military firing range....awesome), we attended a meditation session - a Kundalini style with 4 stages during the hour.  The first is to shake your body, the second is to celebrate, the third is to sit down and the fourth is to lie down and feel the earth below you. 

Meditation was interesting to me…I do believe in its powers, but obviously there are many different forms of meditation.  I’ve heard that you should try different methods and meditate multiple times before finding comfort and peace in it.  So at least this is one down and many many more to go.  J
Fortunately, not everybody had taken the vow of silence.  And at dinner we sat in a circle, blessing the bread and food that we would eat since it was Jewish Shabbat.  We sang songs (Robin and I mostly nodded our heads and hummed to the Hebrew) and shared bread and a sip of wine. 

Since hunger struck early in the day I was ready to stock up on dinner.  To my unfortunate surprise, dinner was exactly what we had for lunch (rice, vegetables and salad), plus a little pasta and tomatoes.  Apparently the workshop required a strict diet, and we all ate together.  (My friend who had been to the Ashram before claimed the vegetarian dishes were delicious and flavorful and I wouldn't have a problem....but it looked like I wouldn't be trying that food.)  Every meal was the same - unsalted and unflavored. 

Lunch, dinner, lunch, dinner, lunch....
Clearly, the lack of meat and variety is killing me.  I’m trying to be at peace with the food – and focus more on the company during meals (which is also lacking since more than half the community is currently in silence and isolation).  It’s hard to make friends when you’re told not to speak with or look at half the people here.
One person who could talk, our meditation instructor (an older gentleman from Greece who seemed to float around like a fairy, with shoulder length gray hair, a white linen shirt and no shoes) tracked us down after dinner to chat about our meditation experiences.  He told us it’s a beautiful thing to be young and curious.  He said we should learn as much as we can about different countries, different foods, cultures, languages, meditations, religions, people, and different boyfriends (that one was funny as he lifted his eyebrow and gestured toward a young guy walking by - cue girls giggling like teenagers). 

And he’s right….even though this experience may not fit in the confines of “my norm” it is a great way to experience a different way of life.  The more I know about how other people live, the more I can discover about how I want to live..
After our second meditation of the day, while we ate dinner Robin and I asked our (one) new friend why the workshop people were on such a strict diet.  I supposed it was some sort of cleanse or for nutritional value.  Why else would food be so limited, lacking in variety, and totally bland?
Hanging out with our one friend!
I was wrong.  He told us it was to keep the people from returning to their habits - if they rely on coffee, or bacon (okay…maybe that’s just me), or ice cream they can't fall back on it.  It's to keep people from their coping mechanisms and away from their normal ways of life.  He added at the end…. “And to break them.”
To break them?!  I started laughing so hard….these poor people who are stuck in this workshop for 7 days without being able to talk to anybody or look at anybody are also expected to eat crap for food?  Just to BREAK them??!  Okay….well….that being said I am 5 mundane meals in and have already been broken…
Robin and I decided our first order of business tomorrow morning when we depart the Ashram is a burger.  Bacon burger if possible. 

Death by food?
Dining room at the Ashram

Leaving the Ashram through the rainbow tunnel...
Even though I don’t think Ashram life is made for me, I’m happy that I came and had this experience.  It is important for me to try to understand and live like others.  It seems like these people in the workshop are searching for something.  They are on their own journey to find something.  Maybe much like I’m on my own journey…and I hope and pray that they find what they’re looking for. 
Thought for you today…what can you do to shake up your routine?  Draw yourself away from your habits and see what you discover or experience differently.
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