Dear Imams:Turn off the Microphone Please

Riyadh (as in: not Makkah).
Ramadan.
Final 10 days.
2:30 a.m.

Microphones are on for the "tahajjoud" (optional late night prayers.) Quraan recitals of three surrounding mosques over lap. Just as the prayers come to a pause, the Imams begin to give a sermon: "Khotba".

In bed, trying to catch some sleep for tommorrow's day at work, I cannot make anything of what the Imams are saying; yet I can see clearly where the lines of the scripture end and the human invention begins.

Dear Imams: In this city called Riyadh, there are plenty of mosques right accross each other. There are private sector workers, sleep deprived maids, over worked drivers, moms, dads and kids, all with various reasons not to be lined up behind you at the moment. People with jobs to do tomorrow or just a strong headed biological clock. Please do show some Islamic manners to them...neighbours.

3:00 a.m.
Quraan recitals are on the air again.
Sun rise in two hours.
One microphone down.
Two to go.

The Faith Muscle

One of the challenges which face people of faith on individual and group levels is granting themselves an easy exit during a given argument with non-believers, or people of contradicting views. In other words, shunning criticism proposed by friends, enemies, frien-emies or a generation in the learning as belonging to individuals who are hopeless or with evil agendas.

The "labeling" exit over time resutls in degenerate believers who suffer a lacking of agility and full realization of self. While choosing assumable protection of values, failure to engage with the other leads a given faith to weather in and possibly to be extinct.

There comes a point in the life cycle of a given faith when arguing on the non-believer’s side needs not only be accepted, but rather saught as an exercise of knowledge and a mean to mend limitations. An opportunity for the discovery of self and others. A growth spurt amidst terminal options...

Women NOT Allowed

Hope hurts. It grows on you like a forest. When sequences of events lead you to tweeze it out, you find that it has tangled up with your very own reasons for being. As you pull out hope, batches of your rooted emotions come tumbling down..

Hopelessness is safe. Hope is lethal.

Today I went for an audition for a comedy in Riyadh, announced publically via Facebook. It surprsied me that the audition was open, for both men and women. Furthermore, that as I confirmed (twice) and exchanged emails with the co-host, that the organizers seemed ready to handle such a breakthrough.

Streets of Riyadh weren't friendly as I headed towards the location of the audition. Signs promised for "the Ring Road" exit, then called the exit something else. The driver wasn't as helpful as I've hoped. In loops we went, he and I.

At last, I arrived at the location, doors seemed wide open. The security guards let me into the hotel. The receptionist pointed me in the direction of the hall where the audition and casting are held. I walked fast to catch up on my time-slot. While in the hallway, a billman stopped me. "No mam, you are not allowed on this floor. No women allowed."

Details accross the hall since then, don't matter. Apparently, some boys and girls kissed earlier at the entrance of the hotel, causing the management to take strict procedure. Namely: NO WOMEN ALLOWED. Why have the hosts not negotiated better with the hotel management? Why did they not have alternative plans to begin with, knowing how strict Riyadh is in terms of segregation? Why have they not contacted the FEW women who confirmed their attendance, conveying the change in plans, and saving face! Why have the organizers not been more apologetic towards the change in situation, instead of shamelessly admitting how women will have to pay the price on a distrubtive behavior that happened earlier?

As I exited the hotel, into the hot and sandy air of Riyadh it killed me that no one stood witness of this idiocity and disrespect. The date trees, metal cars and cement buildings stood still and uncaring.

I wanted to ask the man who so cooly sent me away, how he would feel if upon arrival in American soil, American Officials sent him back to Saudi Arabia without valid reasons. How would he feel, if they said that in a small and isolated room. If through the galss he could witness floods of immigrant and newcomers embracing the new land so easily. If the only compensation he got is the lame reason that he belonged to a Saudi Arabia.

Would this not hurt, the first, second and the tenth time it happens?!

I assume not. What would hurt, in truth, is hoping that this would stop. That things such as descrimination could so easily change. Today I hoped and this was wrong. It is probably best to believe that descrimination against, race, gender or faith would never change. To live in a remote state, while "others" fix the problem.

Are Captains Allowed to Smoke?

While being seated for departure on Saudi Arabian Airlines, flight SV0022, Oct 25th, from NYC to Riyadh, I was surprised to smell cigarette-smoke coming from the captain’s cockpit. At first I thought it might be smoke that has clung to one of the passenger’s clothes, but the smell grew stronger that there was no room for doubt. “Close the door,” a voice from the cockpit urged the stewardess as she exited.

With disbelief I asked the stewardess, “Is smoking allowed in here?”
She exaggerated her “Nooo, you can’t smoke in here. Smoking is banned on airplanes a long time ago.”
“That’s not what I mean. The captain is smoking…”
“Even if he’s smoking, you can’t smoke here!” She stared at me like I was cuckoo in the head.
“I mean…never mind!”

Truth is, I chickened out of taking the argument any further. I thought, maybe I’m just not used to sitting behind cockpits. Moreover, where will being cursed by a stewardess for an entire 11 hours get me! What does breathing another second-hand-smoke weigh—compared to landing safely by a captain who has his nerves (thanks to nicotine) calmed down?

The smoke reoccurred twice after: midway and on landing. Now that I am walking safely on planet earth I am free to wonder if smoking in cockpits is a forgiven sin within the politics of airlines, or if it is a serious violation of the law?

Nurseries in Riyadh (2)

After some thorough search for decent nursery in Riyadh, with the specification of caring for children below 3 and running until 2 p.m. (minimum) here are my findings:

- Little Stars (+966-1-2168008), children 2yr 6mnth and up. 7:30-12 (special session until 5). 16,000 SAR/year for regular hours. 30,000 SAR/year for extended session.
They are a 3 story building, constructed mainly for the purpose of child care. They host parties, school trips and summer camps. They have rooms for different activities: playing, cooking, theater, learning, eating, etc. To some kids, it might be overwhelming due to its big size and echo-y nature. Maximum capacity of each class is 20. Each class has an English teacher, Arabic teacher and a nanny (for diaper change). .Each time I've been there, the director was there, actively involved with what's going on.. The school, as she told me, believes in mixing traditional learning with modern philosophies. Most of the teachers I've seen are Saudi, young, well dressed and cheerful. Only women allowed in, sorry dads!

- Tiny Tots International (+966-1-462-8860/ 462-2751), children 6 months and up. 7:30-1:30. 12,600 SAR/year.
Despite the popularity and high praise I've heard about Tiny Tots, I was shocked at what I saw. First, it runs in old villas that are not constructed mainly for child care. When hubby and I first came in to register our child, we were ignored for about half an hour because all administrators are busy registering other people. We were standing at K1 and K2, so we thought lets search for preK on our own. Surprisingly, we were able to go straight to the heart of the school, enter to children units without anybody stopping us. THESE ARE RED FLAGS TO ME! Strangers are supposed to be identified immediatly and forbidden access to interior of schools. After we were spoken to and given registeration packages, we learned that Tiny Tots uses British Curriculum. I went on the tour (and my husband was told -now- that it is Ministry regulation not to allow men into the classes!). The classes did not seem happy to me. First, PreK is in a villa where every room had a wooden door, once closed you had no idea what's going on inside. Every class I passed by I heard a crying child. The teachers (assistants?) were mostly phillipinos and as a result the English spoken everywhere I went was with a strong accent. When I asked the tour-guide if there were nap-times she said "No, unless the child wants to sleep. There's no time to sleep here, our children are constantly going from one room to the other. We are a happy place. The kids don't sleep because they are happy all the time."

- King Saud International (+966-1-4633180/4631259), children 18 months and up. 7:30-1. Special program until 4 p.m. 15,000 SAR/year.
Talk about British structure. Well, when hubby and I first entered the school we were faced with the same problem in Tiny Tots. Very old villas put together! It feels like everything you step on or touch is worn out. When we entered the administration office, we were told that access to classrooms during operation hours is forbidden and disruptive to learning. We had to come at 7 a.m. to see the classes. We were told that only one seat is left for the PreK and that we had to register right now and there or they cannot guarantee that it'll be available anymore. We were given a copy of the curriculur. While reading it, we noticed a child sitting under the desk. Did they know he was there? Was he being punished for misbehaving? While still wondering on what he was doing, the only administrators on sight had to go somewhere and as a result the child was left alone while workers and handymen came in and out of the room. Again, RED FLAGS. Not my ideal place for an under 3. Hubby and I left.

- Daycare Unit, King Faisal Specialist Hospital (+966-1-4647272 ex. 35666), children 6 months and up. Operation hours: part time (7a.m.-1p.m.), full time (7a.m.-5p.m.). 500 SAR/month for part time. 1000 SAR/month for full time. 200 SAR for registeration. Long waiting list. Either one or both parents must be KFSHRC employees.

- King Faisal International School (+966-1-4820802/ 4821430), children 2yr 9mnth, operation hours 7:30-1:30 p.m.

- Arrawdha Alshamila (+966-1-4569486), children 2yr and up, operation hours 8a.m.-2p.m., 15,000 SAR/year.

Looking for a Daycare in Riyadh?

In two days, life in Saudi will resume its usual pace. Schools, universities and governmental sectors will reopen. With that comes my postponed search for a daycare in Riyadh!

I did not realize how tough finding a daycare in Riyadh is until now. And if ANY investor is looking for an opportunity, let me tell you, invest in 3 daycares with the following categories:

Universal Standard + Affordable + 6 weeks and up + 6 a.m.-6 p.m. + Brand Name + Set in 3 Districts (Central, Eastern & Northern Riyadh) + With an extension plan.

You see, here’s what’s changing in Saudi. Economy is getting tougher. Young couples are getting married, moving away from their family’s house to wherever their jobs might be. Many find themselves living in apartments rather than spacious homes, unable to bring in a maid. If both mommy and daddy are working, comes the tough part of what to do with the child.

Existing pre-schools in Saudi take children of 3 and up. But these as well as nurseries hardly have operation hours that match private companies. Most daycares (pre-schools and nurseries) operate until 1 p.m. or less. Some childcare units open evenings, but that only helps if mom wants to go out (after work).

My child is not 3 yet, so my journey which will begin Saturday Oct 11 is NOT going to be an easy one. The list I have so far of schools I want to check out is as follows:

Little Stars: 462-5958
My School:
Little Jim (gem?):
Daycare Unit (King Faisal Specialist Hospital):
Tiny Tots: 462-8860, 462-2751
Al-Madrasah National School:
King Saud School:
King Abdulaziz School:
University National School: 205-1010
Asrari School (Middle East School):
International School: 477-7555

And this is an additional resource for schools:
http://www.arriyadh.com/En/cgi-bin/f/ALL/r_subprivate_schools.asp?page=1&AttOrder=3

I’ll be collecting further information and checking some schools on Saturday then reporting back with detailed info on some of the above mentioned schools. If any of you have any further additions or suggestions, please do collaborate with me on setting a list of daycares that accept kids under 3 of age and open until 2 p.m (minimum).

The Queen and the Mistresses

Upon return from a training trip to Cairo, I found myself accompanied by a young Saudi (23) in the waiting lounge. Our conversation started when he asked me if departure times were set according to Saudi or Egyptian time.

The boy was from Jeddah, pursuing his Bachelor in Alexandria. Jeddah folks are known to be frequent travelers to Egypt, while people from Riyadh tend to either LOVE Egypt or HATE it. Our conversation fell into that category: how do you like the country, where to go and how to have fun.

He told me that Egypt is the type of place you want to visit with friends, but not family. When I asked him to elaborate, he mentioned that though he didn’t drink alcohol, he enjoyed going to bars and observing people. It is hard to do that with family. Family travel is restrictive and by travelling with friends to countries like Egypt one had the choice to go where he pleases.

As the conversation lost stamina, the boy surprised me by stating, “You must be one of those who want women to drive?” The question caught me off guard, because until then I was an avid listener to him—and quite impressed by his brightness and high spirits. On the other hand, his question –stated in the form of an accusation- struck me as shallow.

“Why?” I asked him, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he said told me how demoralizing it would be to allow women to drive.
“Why?” I asked again.
“It will only lead our sisters and daughters to ruin,” he said.
“Allowing women to drive is not the same as forcing them to drive, right?” I responded but he gave me no time.
“Don’t kid me, you will all want to drive and hit the streets as you please and there will be no way to control anything anymore.”

At this point I stopped taking the conversation seriously. I realized that I was talking to a boy who is recently learning to demand personal choice and has yet to learn that with personal choice comes the responsibility of accepting the choices of other people.

Unfortunately, however, if there’s a boy who is yet to learn—remains people who have grown and progressed on so many professional levels yet when it came to defining the world there was:
- Their controlled utopia – the tamed virtuous queen which they visit on intervals.
- Their wild ride – the mistresses.

Religiousness as an Empowerment to Saudi Women

My friend “Y” is married. Her husband likes her to completely cover in Riyadh: “abaya”, veil and face cover, and half cover in Dahran. To uncover her face in the company of friend “A” and “B” but never around "C". When travelling he wants her to completely uncover, except if there were relatives. He asks her to dress conservatively (eg. Long skirt) in the presence of her family in law, yet wears pants or non-conservative clothing in the presence of the families of friends “A”, “B” and “C”. He doesn’t want her to have any makeup on when outside the house, but to be fully made up once she’s in. He wants for her to attend morning courses so she would excel in English and Computers, yet not resume a job where she would put those skills to use. When he's out she may go out, but when he's in she should return. He wants her to have a kid this year and another next year, then to wait for three years until they have the third. He has every teeny bet of her life figured out for her.

My friend’s marital life is not unique to many women in Saudi, and I do not mean the issue of covering or uncovering, I mean the issue of being micromanaged: Do this now, that after five minutes, wear this here and wear that there. Such minute management isn’t denounced by the collective-mind but is often expected and thought to be an indicator of responsible parenting—yes parenting even to the wife. Some parts of Saudi even go the extreme of referring to the wife as “the dependent” or “the children”. For example, if someone were to ask the husband how his wife is doing, they would say, “How are the children (dependents)?” in spite of him being newly married and without kids.

Some wives adopt to this husband-wife relationship, especially in the first years of life where a wife readily translate micromanagement as “fatherly protection” or “jealousy of amor”, yet when the honey melts away many women begin to feel equal or competitive with their husbands and sensitized towards being bossed around. In this stage of the relationship, personality types will react differently either by adapting to the situation or changing it. But it is not easy to change the dynamics of a relationship after a respectable amount of years—sometimes kids!!

Since arriving in Riyadh I’ve been noticing a pattern amongst certain type of women who suddenly turned religious, some of which immediately transformed from being just another guest in someone’s house to women who sit at the head of a meeting to preach the word of God and tell the stories of the prophet and his companions; women who construct Qur’an recital centers. Nothing shocking or sudden happened to those women, they didn’t loose a loved one in an accident or undergone any trauma. What happened, then, that might’ve caused this massive change in behavior and character?

Many things could of course contribute to this change, but I believe the gains of a transformation often explain the initial calling that has caused it. Women whose religiousness brought power, leadership and stardom after being semi-absented, were probably yearning for what they have been lacking.

A famous ol' Kuwaiti play says, "when religion speaks, let all else munch on hay." And having God at their side, could finally allow those women a word over their husband, children and the greater society. If the husband asks them to uncover here, they tell him God said no. If he watches improper TV content they can condemn his acts and (maybe) slowly influence him. They could challenge tradition by quoting God, the prophet and history. They could silence much of society which would not yield and adhere to them before.

Jobless in Riyadh

To console myself tonight I am promising the following: I will not age in this city nor will I die in it. They may bury me in Riyadh, whoever they are that wash and burry the dead, but my readers will forever know that my wish is to be turned to ashes and blown in the face of wilder lands--Canada will do.

Three weeks into a holiday which I was obligated to take along with my colleagues (though I barely started working) have brought me back to what I vaguely knew: one should not sit jobless in Riyadh. Work in this city is the figurative alternative for alcohol consumption, a series of escapes. Without the alternatives, these days, I am conscious of being imprisoned in a variety of fancy houses.

Because I am very sad inside, feeling emotionally clogged and suffocated, I have been increasingly caving-in. There’s truly not much interest on my behalf to chat with anyone about the wonderful things I do throughout my day—caring for a toddler, walking in the house, walking in the other house, eating what the maids have generously cooked and trying to strike up interest in life by calling up a friend or going to the mall.

There is something DEAD in Riyadh, I recognize it starting with myself. Dead as the beef kept inside a fridge so as to "age it" without rotting. On my first weeks in Riyadh, my toddler would cry asking to go to the ocean. I tell him there are no oceans in Riyadh, but then he wants to go swing, slide and swim in a pool.

A lot of planning has to be done in Riyadh, to satisfy such little requests. If you don’t have a pool or a playground in your house, which I don’t, you must arrange to go to a family’s house which has a playground or a public playground after investigating whether it is safe, clean and if the weather has cooled down. Let’s not forget arranging transportation and better yet a man to come along with you for reasons of safety. Another thing to consider for the public option is that you'll have to wear the abaya and the headscarf. There's going to be little freedom to chuckle, laugh and run about with the child without being scrutinized or mistaken by other men for flirty.

Men in Riyadh whose car pedals only need their feet, cannot emotionally understand how it is like for outgoing women to be living in Riyadh—even if they theoretically empathize. The daily struggle between needing a man in Riyadh and craving for independency is so complicated that it drives the sanest insane. It can evoke sensitivity on both the man and woman who find their relationship redefined by the country law as well as the cultural norm as father and a child (a servant and a spoilt brat!?)

In the pitch dark right now I look about my house and feel little interest in furnishing it further. Five years from now I hope I would move on. I am heavy as it is and should not ground myself in Riyadh much further.

Saudi Enters 2008 Olympics

Without a single woman.

Who Needs Windows in Riyadh?

Imagine a residential building, a very tall one, with 200 windows.

An old, rusty building, with windows dark as cavities. While looking at it, notice the surprisingly white window. Focus on it until you realize, what you thought to be a white window is a satellite dish. The satellite dish is completely blocking the window. Zoom out and start noticing that on every other window of that building, there's a satellite instead.

If nobody is honking at you on King Fahad's Street of Riyadh, slow down and count the number of people to whom satellite dishes are neither a luxury nor a virtual reality, but rather--their ONLY ACTUAL WINDOW...

While returning home from work, today, it looked like 40% of the building's residence are turning to their t.v. for air. Gulping, I wondered if this number could be true to the rest of the city.

Riyadh HAS changed!

Since arriving in Riyadh, friends, relatives and acquaintances have been asking me “Do you think Riyadh has changed?” Every single time, their question reflects an anticipation of a positive answer. They eagerly await a “yes” so they’d start listing their own version of how much Riyadh has changed for them despite not having have left it. Riyadh is undergoing such rapid change, even people within are noticing.

My main concern about Riyadh, as I return to it this time with the eye of a settler is population density. It is turning into a city better suited for singles, couples who are bored with each other or foreigners/outsiders.

Singles in Riyadh are not expected to function as separate entities from the “head” of their family, thus are less obligated to respond to social events or initiate ones of their own. Couples who are bored with each other do not have to worry about missing out on each other’s lives while catching up on everybody else’s (men often seperate from women). And foreigners are saved from an existing, prolonged list of extended families and are free to keep a manageable number of acquaintances.

Despite the rise in competition amongst telecommunication providers and the availability of the latest communication devices to the people, physical presence is still required at most social obligations. Phone conversations, text messaging, emailing, etc, are not alternatives. They are ways to facilitate knowing about the “must be there” events.

More people are moving into Riyadh, let alone Riyadh wombs which are actively regenerating traffic. Additionally, marriages between young men and women are doing their share of introducing additional families to the pool of preexisting ones.

Attending to social obligations isn’t all that bad until one leaves their house into the densely populated city. For those who know Riyadh, it is almost impossible to go from one place to another without crowding up on a highway or a heavily used street. Therefore, the minute one digs their car into an iffy road, begins the math of calculating alternative ones (if there are any!) After Maghreb prayer, which is usually when all social activities begin, a single trip across town can take up the entire evening. If one is making several stops, going shopping or is planning to purchase gifts/sweets/flowers before the final destination not only is the evening gone to ashes—but patience and joy!

Riyadh is still pleasant in the generosity it bestows upon entrants to houses and events. There are still all the little delicacies it offers once you sit back with a group of people and engage in friendly conversations, or once you enter some of its beautifully constructed malls. However, up until you reach the point of settling somewhere, you would have undergone a strenuous duration of a human turned into a heavy vehicle running on four wheels and earnestly pushing against many obstacles. Time would have become your worst enemy. And all the little obligations (which could have meant something had they occurred in small portions) turn into an army of ants—no longer pleasant as they colonize a schedule which at some point in history carried your name.

Cults

I am reading a lot these days, which may lead to a pattern of quoting what I find intriguing or thought provoking--as posts; a claim that not all silence is blank.

Cults are also on the rise because people are under more stress, we're more sleep-deprived, and our society has less confidence in government and religious institutions. Combine all those factors and I would say people are more susceptible to someone who comes along who's very confident and loving -- and offers answers.

There is this perception that cults are religious, but religious cults are just one type of cult. There are political cults, therapy cults, business cults, and even family group systems that act like a mind-control cult. Essentially, people are not allowed to be themselves as unique individuals in a mind-control group.

Any traumatic experience or rough period in life can make a person more vulnerable to a cult, but the greatest vulnerability is a lack of understanding about how destructive cults operate.

-Steven Hassan-

Fighting Over the Same Woman!

Need to catch up with all of you. Whilst my settling down in Riyadh-Saudi is happening, please read this if you haven't. A deep inlook at "religiousness" by Ryan Maher in the Washingtonpost.

This template for discussing religion and faith is fundamentally flawed. It presumes that different groups of faithful people approach their religions in the same way football fans approach their favorite teams: I cheer passionately for mine, you cheer passionately for yours, and we all agree to play by the rules and exhibit good sportsmanship. For people of faith, religion isn't like that. A person of Muslim faith and a person of Christian faith engaged in honest conversation about religion are not like two fans pulling for their respective teams. They are more like two men in love with the same woman, each trying to express, safeguard and be faithful to his relationship with his beloved. Love brings with it complexities that football does not.

Washington D.C: Gateway to Saudi!

Have been in Washington D.C for 3 days and will be there up until the 3rd of July. While roaming M St, NW and going to many touristic sites, I’m trying to refrain from making foolish generalizations, yet finding it incredibly difficult. My headlines are as follows:

0.
Hubby, baby and I are subject to "random special screening" while flying to D.C. Well, usually only one of us is "chosen randomly", which makes sense! This time it is all three. All our luggage arrives at D.C with a tag that also indicates "random checking". Humph, I wish we had prettier underwear.

1.
An African American barista at Starbucks shoves a drink my way asking, “This yours?” Her tone changes all of a sudden as she addresses someone else, “have a wonderful day mam.” I turn around at once to see the barista flashing a smile at another African American customer. I wonder, is there a white-black tension in D.C?

2.
I give myself a scare while looking in the mirror. Two days of touring have turned me into burnt meat. From the other room hubby chuckles while mentioning that a friend of his on FB says “D.C is Riyad with trees.” I nod to my face.

3.
When asking a security guard about the closest grocery shop, he looks troubled. “Oh mam, it’s too far to walk!”
“How far?” I ask.
He points to a bus stop across the street, “The bus should take you right over there.”
“But how far is it?” I insist.
“Eight blocks!”
I’m ticked, remembering word for word what a lady told me in Portland when I asked her about the closest Sushi. “Very close,” she said. “10, 11 blocks the most.”

4.
When dining in an Italian Restaurant, stuffed with people, served 40% by Arab waiters, a cockroach teases our table. An appetizer arrives half cold. An entrée arrives as two parts: pasta soaked with tomato paste and mushrooms flowing in marsala sauce. They are supposed to be one dish, but I suppose the chef was too lazy to make plain pasta! Oh, the cockroach was done eating breadcrumbs by that time. I couldn’t find him. But I was hoping he isn’t climbing my leg.

5.
Tourists everywhere. Tourists don’t care to make an impression. They don’t care to be polite. It isn’t their goddamn city!

6.
Overcoming travel-constipation. Googling "constipated during " with google suggesting "during travel." Oh, well, not a classic case I guess! You name it, I've done it. Eating light, eating veggies, drinking lots of water, etc. Truth is, constipation isn't really the issue. My exit system gets lazy (no--dead!) when I'm overwhelmed by changes. This is final. Next time I travel, I'll start smart. Pill the night before hopping on that airplane.

7.
Nobody is patting my back in D.C or summarizing their life on the lineup. Thought, with all the complaining, that I meant to say I hate it. Surprisingly, the busy, on the go folks suit my mood! It is sort of what Riyadh would have...

Tomorrow I visit Saudi Cultural Mission for the first time. Hope to finish up all pending business before returning home. Excited. Excited. Excited. Excited. Somebody please knock some sense into me because you never get THAT excited about something without turning into your own antagoniste.