LIFE: The joy of sharing

One of my most vivid positive childhood memories was of the day I discovered the joy of sharing.

I was 5 or 6 years old and had to get a routine immunization shot. Usually I got them the same time as at least one sister but this time for some reason it was just me. My father took me to the clinic in the afternoon just when a lot of cars started appearing on the road. It was the time of day when it seemed as if everyone suddenly realized they had somewhere to go.

A nurse with shiny legs administered the uneventful shot, a needle to the right buttock. I felt it but neither flinched nor exclaimed. I knew that children were expected to be affected when they got injections. It was a valid reason for crying. I remember sitting upright to see the nurse smiling. She was clearly used to children bawling and carrying on. Not me, not that day at least! 

She didn’t even cry. Well well, what a big girl. Maybe daddy will buy you a hot dog for a treat? What about that?

I don’t recall knowing what a hotdog was at the time but I knew it was something I didn’t eat. Still, I understood the sentiment and for a moment I felt like I had missed out on a reward, if a hot dog was the treat for not crying during immunizations, and I didn’t eat hotdogs, what was the point of keeping my composure then? But to my surprise my father, never one to miss the opportunity to declare how different we were from everyone else announced triumphantly,

“Well, you know, we don’t eat meat, but maybe she’ll some ice cream.”

Oh! Yes! All was not lost. 

On the way home we stoped at a gas station and parking only a few feet away from the entrance he walked inside and came back what seemed like a few seconds later and handed me a flat purple plastic package. It was chocolate, Cadbury Fruit and Nut. I immediately recognized it as my mother’s favorite treat and for a moment thought it was meant for her.

“Hold onto that.”  

“Oh! this is mine?”

“Yes, yes.”

I gripped that poor chocolate bar so tightly until father had to take it away from me so that it wouldn’t melt on the drive home but it was too late, by the time we got home the chocolate bar was flexible in its the plastic covering. 

I was so eager to eat it immediately but instead father took it and tied a piece of string around it and lowered it into a drum of cool water that was in the front of the yard. In these days we either didn’t have a refrigerator or the current was off, I can’t remember which one. 

Later that evening after we sat and ate the requisite rice peas and vegetables, the chocolate bar was fished out of its cold pool and sliced into eight equal portions and everyone enjoyed with equal measure, but me a bit more so.

Aside from when it was someone’s birthday and we bought ice-cream, it wasn’t often we had extra things besides the usual meals. But that night we did and it was thanks to me.

I remember this night so vividly because I was surprised at myself for not feeling angry to not have the entire chocolate for myself. To pick and enjoy for several days while my sisters asked me for a piece and I decided whether or not they deserved it. Maybe this is what I would have done if father didn’t decide for me from the get go that it was to be shared. I don’t know and I’ll never know. After this experience I learned the joy of sharing and it has stayed with me since.

This was my earliest memory of the joys of sharing. I remember on the way home imagining and wondering how i would ever be able to finish this huge treat by myself but very much looking forward to the opportunity to find out! But as soon as we got home and father said I would share it with everyone it was as if my dilemma was solved! I didn’t have to eat it all for myself, I could share it with everyone else. 

STYLE: Secrets to looking chic

Secrets to looking chic, always.

In a beauty obsessed society, how you look matters. But appearance goes way beyond your dress size, whether or not you have the perfect pout (natural or otherwise enhanced) and the brand and price tag of your blue jeans. 

What matters most is how well put together you are and how you carry yourself.

As is often the case, the devil is in the details. Before dismissing the following tips as common sense, consider the last time you really inspected your clothing or got dressed leisurely, making sure your entire outfit was in tip top shape.  Read no to learn how to be one of the most chic and smartly dressed persons out and about.

1. Check clothes regularly and in natural light for stains. Getting ready in dim early morning light, you likely won’t see stains unless they are really prominent. But a stain is a stain and by midday, everything is extra illuminated. There is no greater distraction when talking to someone than a stain on the front of their shirt or dress. Carrying around a stain removing pen in your handbag is also a good idea.

2. After laundering, check clothes for tears and mend immediately or keep damaged items apart from wearable clothes. Pay attention to seams and especially hems; they are notorious for being compromised by errant toes while pulling clothing on.

3. Press or steam clothes after laundering. Wearing rumpled clothing is the ultimate sartorial sin. Unless your position is that you absolutely do not care about anything, including yourself, take the extra time to remove unsightly creases. Invest in a steamer as this is quicker and more gentle than an iron. I keep an upright steamer in my bathroom and after showering while i’m waiting for my face mask to work its magic, I use those few minutes to steam my outfit. When I step out to greet the day I can hold my head high knowing I’m walking the stylish straight and narrow.

4. Reject the idea that you need to buy new clothes every season. As long as your clothes are clean, well fitting, undamaged and unwrinkled, there is still life left in them - even if the color was more brilliant in days gone by. So what if your previously brilliant navy blue linen shirt is now the color of washed denim? Wear it with pride! Either embrace the weathered shade or dye it to return it to its glory days. Fabric dye is readily available at craft stores and the process can easily be done in a plastic basin.

5. If you don’t have a best friend, get a lint remover and keep her close. When wearing black clothing, or a fabric like wool that loves to attract lint, do a quick once over with a lint brush before you leave the house. It’s also a good idea to carry a small lint roller in your purse for touch ups as the day progresses. The same goes for pets owners or those with shedding hair. I often observe people wearing black sweaters the backs of which are covered with strands of hair. Maybe they don’t realize it is even there, but everyone else does, and it makes them look unkempt. For wool and cashmere clothing that is prone to pilling, check areas where a handbag may rub against you and remove any pills to maintain your polished look.

6. Polish your shoes an keep them clean. For leather shoes, a quick wipe with a wet cloth is good to remove any dust. Every now and then, a polish and shine will keep the shoes in good shape and have you looking in top shape.

Do you have any tips to share on how you keep yourself looking chic?

IDENTITY: On Transcending nationality

With the 4th of July being tomorrow I feel an internal fire of patriotism the flames of which are being fanned by the voices of scores of Americans who have recently swarmed Lyon, France.

 It’s the week of the FIFA women’s world cup and as the host city for the semi-final and final matches, Lyon is overrun with visitors most of whom appear to be Americans.

As for me, I haven’t felt this American since I landed at Charles de Gaule last August and the border agent smiled at me when he saw my passport and said, Americaine? Bienvenue!. Seeing all these smiling faces temporarily tattooed with stars and stripes and walking among crowds of people donning USA baseball caps, I’m feeling like i’m at a giant American family reunion. I chuckle at all the cargo shorts -  the american man’s summer uniform and all the American University-logo-emblazoned t-shirts.  Among the scores of visitors in town I notice an increase in lesbian couples many of them proudly wearing USA team jerseys and nike running shorts.

It’s interesting to be an American abroad. Especially now, ten months into my sojourn when my french is fluent enough so that i’m no longer asked where i’m from and i no longer stumble over my words when i’m ordering at a cafe thereby exasperating the server into speaking to me in english. These days when I’m out and about I move with confidence, navigating public transportation like a local, and speaking french fluently. People even stop me and ask me for directions and most of the time I can guide them correctly. After a six month walk of shame (_) I? …..

Now that Lyon is swarming with Americans, overhearing the conversations of the mostly American tourists makes me feel like a fly on the wall. People speaking a foreign language in a host country often do so as if nobody can understand them. So they speak more freely about things that maybe they would be more conservative about at home. Or maybe not. Eavesdropping is rude but it’s also entertaining. There’s always a lot of talk about how much money was spent on XYZ and how expensive or cheap ABC is ‘in comparison’.

Today I was feeling quite nostalgic for my old American life, so when some Americans came into my favorite cafe and sat next to me, something overtook me and I felt the urge to strike up a conversation. This inherently American urge to make small talk with a complete stranger for no other reason than to hear the sound of my voice overtook me before i could reason with myself and keep my mouth shut. I figured we were not exactly strangers, we had something in common after all - we were Americans abroad!

I started by pointing at his cap - khaki colored with USA embroidered in  red white and blue. We chatted about the game, I asked if he knew anybody who had extra tickets for sale as all the online outlets have fun out. He was ‘traveling with the team’ but suggested there might be people outside of the stadium selling tickets. And then the fateful exchange:

‘Are you American?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘I’m hearing an accent……?’

*Crickets chirp forever*

Alas, this statement/question is one I have not had to answer for the past 10 months. It is one I have spent more time than I care to remember answering, and then answering some more when the follow up questions pounce.

‘Yes I grew up the Caribbean.’

Voilà. I am American, but always with an explanation. 

The small talk continued for a while more with them asking me their share of questions.  They told me that Lyon is like a small scale Paris. I disagree but I don’t voice it (Lyon is so much better than Paris, there is no comparison). I just smile and say ‘Yes, yes’.  It doesn’t matter. 

I could tell that the connection I was looking for was not going to happen. Not after that clear demarkation a bold line in the sand drawn by a simple question and it’s embedded suggestion -

Yes, of course we are Americans but you, explain to us your foreign accent.

No. What I was searching for I would not find. And what exactly was I looking for anyway? A chance to connect with someone I had something in common with - citizenship. But there’s being American and there’s being American. For me it’s about how i sound. For some of my hispanic and asian friends it’s a matter of how they For me the refrain usual refrain is ‘I’m hearing an accent…..’. For other people it’s ‘But where are you really from? Where are your parents from?’

Does any of it matter?

With the conversation over, I continued typing and sipping my tea. The tourists continue talking about their Delta Sky miles and the best time to get to the airport on Monday morning. 

Some hours later I decided to head home. I walked through the cobbled streets lined on each side with restaurants and bars and tried not to inhale too much cigarette smoke.

I noticed heavyset very tanned woman and her male partner who was wearing a baseball cap with DALLAS emblazoned on the front, seated on a restaurant patio enjoying a meal. The surface of his plate was taken up by a giant bone and he scooped out what looked like marrow. On her plate was a mostly green salad. A waiter appeared with a basket of bread and placed it on their table then turned to leave.

‘No no no no no!’

The woman violently shook her head and her left hand which was gripping her fork. The waitress was visibly confused. In France it is unheard of to not have bread with a meal. The woman shook her hand some more.

‘No no no no!’

She pushed her hand forward as if to say ‘Get this away from me!’ The waiter shrugged her shoulders and made a French sound* then took the basket and carried it back inside.

———

I walked further. A group of American girls were standing on the bridge. It seemed as if they had just met up with each other.  

‘Oh my god you look so so cute!’ 

‘That top is really cute on you.’ 

Whereas French people show affection by making fun of each other*, Americans do the same by giving a barrage of compliments.

I continued walking alone, observing everything and everyone around me. People look at me. Sometimes they do that American smile. The one that appears and disappears just as quickly. I continued walking.

I like being in France. I can be anybody here, I speak French well enough to communicate without hesitation. I can give directions to anyone who asks me because I know this city well. When a french person asks me where I’m from and I say America, their reply is always ‘Quelle chance!’ (What luck). The better my French gets the less I am asked about where I am from. But anytime I have to say I am American, nobody demands an explanation.

When the man ask me to explain my accent I felt that wave of alienation that carried me along all those years of living in the land of the free. But for the first time in years, it was quickly replaced by a feeling of liberation. I realized that I am no longer trying so hard to fit in while making sure that I still stand out. After almost a year as an American in France, an American without an explanation, I seem to have finally transcended my nationality. I no longer have to worry about where I am really from because it no longer matters. I’m simply here trying to figure out exactly what it is I’m looking for and then hopefully find it.

*taquiner -to gently mock. It’s a local sport among French people. It’s how they connect with each other and show affection. To an outsider it may be a bit of an affront at first. you might feel as if someone is making fun of you unprovoked. but after some time you get used to it and you learn to give as much as you get.

LIFE: How to maintain your sanity while searching for a job.

Wake up in the morning. Check email. Nothing but junk.

Have breakfast. Check email. Random messages from mailing list you’ve unsubscribed from multiple times.

Read an article on how to revamp your cover letter. Check email. Nothing.

Close computer, unlock phone check email nothing.

This is the type of cycle you might find yourself in during a job search period which can easily be nine months of agonizing wait. You can apply for hundreds of jobs and 5 or 10 months later get a single callback that can lead to a job making everything else seem like wasted time. With this in mind, the key is to not let your job search consume your entire life, but to continue living even while under the dark cloud of temporary unemployment.  

But how?

1. Set a schedule. During a job search, every moment not spent perusing job boards or submitting applications can feel like time wasted. But you can’t spend every waking moment applying for jobs. This can be detrimental not only to your eyesight but your health also. Like all full time work, breaks are necessary. Set a schedule of 3 hours in the morning and 4 in the evening and during that time commit to the task. Don’t be tempted to ‘check’ instagram because before you know it you’ll start an application at 8am, check Instagram at 8:15 and then look up at midday to realize you scrolled the entire morning away. The time set aside for your job search should be used for just that. Then, when it’s time to disconnect you can enjoy your well earned down time.

2. Use the period of unemployment to learn something new or tackle a goal. That way,  if 6 months in you don’t have a job at least you can have something to show for the time other than a stack of generic rejection emails. Whether it be knitting a scarf, starting a blog or brushing up on the language you are claiming to speak fluently, if you can organize your time you can definitely set some time apart for these activities. 

3. Live! Yes perhaps you are faced with poverty due to unemployment but find ways to get out and be a part of society. This way when the rejection letters start coming, and they will, you’ll have something bright to take the sting away. It can be hard to behave like a social butterfly when you’re feeling more like a gloomy moth. Especially if your friends are gainfully employed and not pinching pennies and constantly doing quick maths to make sure they can afford to buy simple necessities. But isolating yourself can do further damage to yourself esteem that’s already taking a battering from the job search process. If you feel yourself wandering into the murky waters of jealousy since everyone around you seems to have their life sorted out, instead try and channel that energy into inspiration with the knowledge that soon enough you too will be among those receiving a bi-monthly direct deposit.

4. Resist the urge to obsess over callbacks. I have never been more addicted to checking my email than during a job search period. Sometimes I apply for a job at 8am and refresh my email the rest of the day as if I really think they will get back to me before sunset.  Force yourself to step away from the phone and computer as necessary.  Take a break and read a book or simply meditate in silence. It is unlikely that your lack of response to an email within a few hours will cause you to miss a job opportunity. If you check your email at least once everyday you should be okay. The same with phones and missing calls. 

5. Immerse yourself in nature. Conducting your job search from home to save money on cafes is a good idea, but switch up the scenery for inspiration. Go to the local library with your own bottled and packed refreshments to save money. If every now and then you can afford to splurge on a cafe drink bring a pack of biscuits from home to complete the treat. Go for a walk or a bike ride or check out an exhibit at a museum during the free entry days. They say it takes on average 6-8 months to find a job. That’s 2 entire seasons. Instead of being hold up in a dark cave in front of your computer and feeling sorry for yourself make time to be a part of society. 

And while you apply for jobs for week after week, be patient and remember that all it takes is one acceptance and one job offer. Take it all in stride and know that what is mean for you will always make its way to you.

LIFE: Overcoming sentimentality

You never realize how much nonsense you own until it’s time to move. And the writing is on the wall in its clearest incarnation when you are moving across seas and can only take what you can carry. No chance to shove entire drawers of odds and ends into a box and tape it up to open and discover its true contents later on. There is no later on. There is no one of these days. What you can carry you take. What doesn’t fit you must let go.

In this day and age where not even overhead space on a flight is complimentary, you must be shrewd in deciding what goes, and what stays.

This is my current dilemma.

I’m moving to France for a year, and afterwards, I have no idea where the wind will blow me. Will I move from Lyon to Paris? Will a door open across the border in Geneva? Or will I end up in Dakar? Who knows. And so I need to pack as if I am about to be come a global nomad of sorts.

I admit, this has long been a secret dream of mine. To just blow from one country to another on the wings of the freedom that holding an American passport brings. A modern day rolling stone of sorts. A MacBook toting, Canon wielding, orange penny-loafer wearing rolling stone. Ready for whatever life throws at me and determined to get my dreams whatever the consequences of seeking them may be.

But what about these everyday American essentials? Like my mini lint roller and the two-pack of refills I am yet to use. My various Hydroflasks, my bottles of perfumes that I love but never wear because i’m saving them for a special occasion that never seems to come. My row of sunglasses that I select from depending on my mood - The retro ray-bans when when I’m feeling extra chic and confident, the vintage style, slight cat eyes for when it’s time to channel my inner French girl or the every days ones that are already slightly scratched so I don’t have to worry too much about them and can toss them in any pocket or bag at will.

What will become of my variety of stationary items that come in handy each in their own regard. My watercolor paints that I use every few months to de-stress, my crayons that help me to illustrate my Econ charts, or aid in stress relief, the endless pens of varying nib sizes 0.5, 0.3, 0.7 and all the pencils from the Bic to the extra fancy one from the Japanese stationary store in San Francisco.

Don’t  get me started on the miscellaneous items. Essential oils, naturopathic remedies that I’m not quite sure work, and I couldn’t tell you exactly what I am trying to treat, but all these small bottles of pills and potions were purchased at Whole Foods for an arm and a leg in moments of existential despair. These $25 here and $17 there that add up and so I NEED them to work and am determined to continue using them until I feel some positive effects. Will they fit in my carry on luggage?

My ‘piggy bank’, a ceramic Chinese cat for good luck that a friend gave me years ago. My foam rollers for when I have time to waste and want to give myself a hairstyle. Where will all these things fit?

Out of everything I own, nothing is more precious than my books. So much so that once, in a moment of delicious morbid pondering I asked myself what I would do if a fire broke out in my house, I decided that I would evacuate my books and then come back to fan the flames and then see what the rental insurance company had to say for itself the following week.

My beloved books! How must I carry them all with me and tote them around the globe?

E-books don’t compare. There is nothing better than the smell of paper. What to do?

These are the decisions that I will have to make over the next 8 weeks. How to narrow down a studio of possessions into a checked bag , a carry on and a backpack.

It will be a lesson in overcoming sentimentality and truly being unattached. Stay tuned for a report on how I fare.

TRAVEL: Adjusting to life in a second country

How to adjust to life in a new country

travel

To anybody who has or is planning to move to a new country especially one with life in a different language, here are a few tips to help you navigate the journey ahead.  These are some lessons I learned from settling into a new life in france after not having taken a French class in over a decade and narrowing down my possessions to three suitcases so not having some home elsewhere waiting for me to return to at the end of it all.

1. Be strategic with your movements. Speaking a foreign language can be panic inducing.  Being in a stressful environment like in line to order or to ask questions can turn the stress up a notch and make it hard to find your words. Until you gain your bearings, organize your day so your speaking intense tasks are scheduled outside of rush hour. Go to the grocery store mid morning or mid afternoon, go to the bakery very early when most people are still asleep. Museums and boutiques are more empty during the week so you’ll be able to ask questions and make small talk to flex your language muscles without the pressure of crowds to make you self conscious about your speaking abilities.

2. Pick places to become a regular. If there are things you’re going to do often, like grocery shop or pastry shop, or sit in cafes or eat ice-cream while it’s nice to try new places, do so and then pick a few spots where you can become a regular. This is a good way to get to know people and to have people get to know you. In france people can seem standoffish at first but once they warm up to you they are the nicest and most genuine. The difference between france and America is in America the customer service is very in your face. Lots of smiling lots of high pitched voices lots of ‘oh my god I love your dress’ and forced intimacy. In france people keep more of a distance and it’s a slower process to welcome someone but once it’s done it feels real. 

Unlike in America where you can take a class with someone for an entire semester and sit and chat and laugh with them only to  meet them out on the streets and greet them and be met with a blank stare or even a raised brow that you would dare acknowledge them outside of the normal situation where you meet. That has never happened to me in france. The girl that works at the cafe I frequent I see her on the street and we greet each other with a smile and a hello. The same with the guy who works in the bakery I visit a lot. Become a regular somewhere and I twill give you a feeling of welcome and camaraderie that will tide you over until you get a chance to make actual friends. 

3. Take out your headphones!! Being aware of what is going on around you is smart on a safety level but it’s also handy to pick up phrases and sayings by overhearing conversations between native speakers.  I learned so many sayings by listening to conversations on the train. It’s tempting to want to isolate yourself during the first few months when your feeling very separate to everyone but as time goes by you’ll miss out on training your ear to the language by hearing it spoken around you. Also you’ll miss out on opportunities to speak to people. having in headphones in is the universal signal for ’leave me alone’ but as the new person in town you want people to speak to you as much as possible! Even if they are asking you questions you’re not able to answer yet! 

As months go by and you start to walk more confidently because you know your way around people will approach you to ask for directions or simple questions. It’s a good way to feel a part of the community and you can even improve your vocabulary when you try to explain something to someone and don’t have a word they will understand what you’e thing to say and help you complete the sentence. 

4. Be open to different types of people. If you’re 21 it might seem like your friends should primarily be the 21 years old. If you’re in your early 30s 20 year olds might be quite annoying. But it is possible to find like minded people of all ages. Don’t be afraid to move away from a group if it doesn’t fit you. You might feel a bit desperate being in a new country and try to attach to people very quickly just so as to not be alone. But if you find that a group of people you’ve aligned with are really not the best fit for you don’t feel guilty to move away from them and start over. 

That was my situation when I first moved here and a group of Americans tried to rope me into their pack. I felt as if maybe I should stay with them and even though we didn’t have the same interests I thought that perhaps they would think that I thought I was better than them because I wanted to move away. And they did. But it didn’t mater because at the end of the day I wasn’t here to please them. I ended up befriending women who were old enough to be my mother, some who were grandmothers, some who were not even 21 and from all over the world. The thing was that we had similar interests and our spirits meshed. 

5 Don’t be afraid to share your interest with others and invite people into your world. I’ve found that people in general are open to meeting others and making new friends. And people also like to try new things and learn new things about themselves. I used to wish that I was a part of a writing group. In California these were usually paid workshops that are quite expensive and not very diverse. And what was stopping me from starting one myself? Well I don’t know any writers. Or so I thought.  One day I told a new friend that I was going to a cafe to write and asked her if she wanted to come along. Turns out she loved writing but hadn’t done so for a whilee ’I never finish a story,’ she said. ‘I’d love to!’ And then another friend also was also interested. So the three of us met up and spent 2 hours in a cafe writing. And then we did it again the next week. If I had never suggested it I would have never known we had that common.  Don’t sit wishing and hoping and wondering. Put yourself our there and you never know who has similar interest to yours until you speak up

6. Humble yourself.  There’s something about being American that makes you feel like you deserve certain things. You deserve excellent customer service, you deserve a type of freedom and space. It’s that American entitlement I guess. I always thought I didn’t have it because I wasn’t fully American. And then I came to france. And. I saw how slowly things move and how indifferent people seemed to be and how workers seemed to spend all their free time dreaming up ways to WASTE customers’ time. My blood boiled so many times I wondered how it didn’t boil over and spill out through my pores. But when you’re a visitor or a new person in a new place you really will learn the art of humility. There will be a lot of misunderstanding  and you’ll grow a type of patience you didn’t think you had in you. Because what can you do? Learn how things work before you criticize and adjust accordingly because you are in a foreign country so things will be done differently to what you’re used to. Just accept it and act accordingly.

7. Don’t take things personal. This is a good rule to follow throughout life, but settling into a new country it’s especially necessary. Because you’re already on high alert and your esteem is precarious you have to be very vigilant about how you react to people and situations. If someone treats you in a way that’s less than ideal it might be easy for it to hit on your insecurities - or as we say in the Caribbean for them to mash your corn. So if someone makes fun of your accent you might think that they are doing it in a mean way. If a couple of store clerks laugh a bit too menacingly after you complete your order and turn to leave a store you might think they are laughing at you. If you speak to someone in French and they respond in English (this is one of the most crushing things) It can feel like they think that your French is so bad they just can’t even be bothered to speak it to you. This is what traumatized me the most, but over time I came to realize that people are actually doing it because they think they are doing you a favor. Or because they are excited at the chance to speak English themselves! It has nothing to do with you!

8. Don’t be so quick to jump into a relationship. There’s nothing more lonely than being in a foreign land. You have to start over everything from scratch. If you are single you might think that a relationship will be the cure all for these blues but no. For one in a new place it will take some time for your confidence to be rebuilt after it’s taken the inevitable a hit. The worse time to jump into a relationship is when your confidence is not 100%. Manipulative types can smell low self esteem from a mile away and they NEVER have good intentions You will be looking to a partner to iron out  wrinkles in your life that only time and your own efforts can smooth. Also you might be tempted to retreat into them instead of being out and doing the work that is necessary for you to get to the point of settling in. 

No matter how strong the temptation I would suggest waiting at least 7 months before entering into a relationship. That way you’ll be able to find yourself and your footing. You’ll explore the area, you’ll find your favorite spots, you’ll make friends and you’ll carve out a life for yourself on your own terms. Then you can consider a relationship from this strong footed place, a fulfilled life that can be expanded further with someone else.