The Music of Peace Corps

   

Ah Beloit, you gave me so much good music

     Ok, this may seem like a strange topic, but I've noticed that music plays a really important part in surviving Peace Corps.  My mother, a Peace Corps Volunteer in Nepal back in the late 70's, often told me about how she would always ask her sitemate (who had a guitar) to play Jethro Tull's 'Locomotive Breath'.  To this day she loves that song, and it reminds her of her time in PC.  For me, the two songs that so far are my "Peace Corps Songs", are 'Some Nights' by Fun, and 'Gangnam Style" by PSY.  

     I know at least some of you groaned when you saw 'Gangnam Style', but what can I say?  It's everywhere!  I see it on T.V. hear it on the news, on commercials, on telephones, and my host brother is obsessed with the song, and sings it constantly.  So yeah, I will always think of Azerbaijan when I hear that song in future.  'Some Nights' just feels like America to me.  I'm not very patriotic and definitely not nationalistic; but the fact remains that America is where I grew up, and that music makes me think of a warm summer night in the Midwest.  It makes me relax and just seems to say, "home", when I am anywhere but.  Anybody else have special travel/Peace Corps music? 

Planting Trees I Will Never Sit Under

  It's been a month, but I'm finally starting to get a handle on my classes.  How each of them works, which students pay attention and which would rather be somewhere else, and how my counterparts like to teach.  I have only just started getting a foothold in the classroom, and at the moment I'm mostly focusing on English games, but really hope to expand.  The problem that I am running into is that I am in a small village, near a big (ish) town, and that town has some very good schools in it.  Anyone who can send their kids to Agdash, does.  That being said, the kids I have in my school are enthusiastic, and most of them do try in class, but they just don't have the same level of English that you find in towns and cities.  Somewhat compounding the problem is the fact they they have been taught by the Grammar-Translation method; meaning that they only learn English grammar and translate text from English to Azerbaijani.  So they know our grammar better than I do, and can usually translate a decent amount of text, but they can't actually speak.  For example, They can translate "Tell me about your family.", but they can't actually answer, or talk about their family.

One of my 5th grade classes

     I've been studying each class to find ways to try and get students to start practice talking, and actually start using the language, and I'm starting to lay the groundwork that will hopefully bear some small fruit in 2-years time.  One of my younger classes has a fair amount of students who don't have books, so those students pretty much ignore most of class, since it's all from the book.  For them, I've been doing a lot of hangman, which is starting to draw those dispassionate students into the discussion.  From there, I hope to move to more movement-based activities, which aren't in the book.  That should make it a bit easier for everyone to follow along, and that class needs to be more physically involved; too many students just sit there until I bring in an activity. (Side note: The kids have never really done classroom activities that require them to move around the classroom, or work with others, or be abstract, so it's a bit chaotic at first, because they can't fathom what they heck they are supposed to do.  But they're slowly getting it, and it makes for an interesting observation)((God, I am such and anthropologist))
     Another class has been frustrating me for ages, but today I finally made a connection, and found out that they love competitive games.  Splitting the class into two large groups, and delegating a speaker for each group made them all work together, especially after I told them that if anyone besides the speaker yelled out the answer, the other team automatically got the question.  Again, it took a while for them to realize that they could all come together and talk to come up with an answer, but after awhile, they were all huddling together and madly discussing possible answers, even if the other team had the question.  It was a great class, and I will definitely do more competitive games in that class; eventually (hopefully) by the time I leave, I would like to be able to pose a question and have them answer in complex sentences.
     I keep looking at what other volunteers are doing, and so many of them are doing great and amazing things, and I wish I could do what they are, but I also know that I have a different situation than what they might have.  I don't have access to magazines, or empty school buildings, or even coloured paper and scissors.  My resources are the students, teachers, and my own mind, which admittedly makes things a bit difficult, (especially since I'm such an introvert) but hopefully it will also mean that whatever changes I make here will be permanent and sustainable, since it's going to have to come from the people, rather than something I buy or bring in from outside.  Only time will tell, but I can only hope that what I do here will have some kind of lasting impact for the better.  Guess it goes with that old saying, "Society grows great when old men plant seeds for trees they never expect to sit under."  We never know what seeds we plant, since we won't be around to see what our impact will be.  We just do our best and hope it all turns out better than it would've been.

The Week in Highlights

     This week I'm just going to give a few of the highlights I found in the multiple rounds of guesting and feasting that go with the holiday. Also, apparently if you are in the Peace Corps, you can't use the Peace Corps logo on your blog, and since one of my posts had the logo with it, someone came in and removed the picture from it.  So I will eventually be designing and putting up my own version of the Peace Corps logo so I can have some kind of representation of it on here.  Any input on design ideas would be welcome.  But moving on, here are the things that I found interesting this week.

1. Family Interactions - I went guesting so many times, I believe my record now stands at 7 different houses within a 3 day period.  So I met lots of family, most of whom I still don't know.  But there were some good moments that came out of that.  My extended host family trying to teach the little kids to call me "bibi" (Aunt) is so far my favorite.  Following close behind that is the 'Battle of the Paklava (Baklava)', where they tried to get me to say which person's paklava was better, my host father's first wife's, or his current wife's.  I refused to answer until it was made clear that I had to if I ever wanted them to let me up from the table.  So I told them...in English.  I had the whole table rolling with laughter (and some frustration) as they tried to get me to admit which one was better, even calling in people who knew a little English (like my host sister) to try and figure out what I was saying.  I just spoke fast, and refused to answer in Azeri.  My family still is trying to find out what I said. (Though as we left, I whispered the answer to the wife I thought made the best paklava, and she burst out laughing, then acted all innocent about what I had said. *grin*)

2. The New Years Celebration - In America, New Years usually means New Years Eve on December 31st (to party), and New Years Day on January 1st (to recover).  Here, the celebration only starts on December 31st, and then it goes for days.  Mostly this means lots of guesting and tonnes of food.  Though if there are younger kids, going out to get their picture taken in front of the New Year tree with Shaxta Baba (Santa Claus) and Qar Qiz (Snow Girl) is pretty common.  There's also staying up 'till midnight on Dec 31st, as most people seem to do 'round the world, and setting off fireworks.  In my house, this also included shooting off a double barreled shotgun (flares and buckshot), which greatly amused my family since I don't like guns, not at all.  They have found out that I won't allow anyone to aim a toy gun at me or pretend to shoot me with their fingers, and if they ask why, my basic response is, "Americada choxlu adami va usaqlar olub.  Cox pis." Which basically means that lots of people die from being shot in America, and it's very bad.  So of course I stand far back out of the way when the gun is loaded, and my host fam laughs but usually says that it is good that I am careful.

3. Decorating My Room - Pretty much everyone in my family (and my good friends) know that I need to decorate my room.  I have done everything from covering the walls of my dorm with maps, scarves, and Christmas lights, to painting my room to look like an Indian Palace (complete with a painted 'window' looking out into a starry sky) and having a sari hung over my bed.  So it shouldn't be a suprise to anyone that I brought 6 framed pieces of art, a wall scroll, a T.A.R.D.I.S. magnet, a Japanese doll, my kayaking Santa ornament, some calendars, and my Chinese box (with my ink pad and name seal) to Azerbaijan.  For the longest time, I didn't have anything up because the paint here is so brittle, any form of tape will pull it off.  But this week, I finally decided to put everything up!  I had to put everything on the windows (and windowsill) and door because the tape wouldn't damage the wood, but I am quite pleased with the result, and feel much more at home now that the room reflects a bit more of my personality. (And my little T.A.R.D.I.S. magnet on my door handle just makes me happy!)

An example from my last room; Sparkle Cthulhu sitting in the Holy Grail.

(Yeah, my rooms are like that) 

4. Spiders - I hate spiders. No, I take that back, I hate spiders that are on me, near me, or just look downright freaky.  Unfortunately, there are lots of spiders in my house, as in, I see at least 5+ a day.  Most of them look kind of like daddy longlegs, and I'm fine with those as long as they stay off of me.  But then there are little (or big) black spiders with a big body, thick, short legs, and huge fangs that have a habit of hanging down from the ceiling and looking incredibly scary to me.  A few nights ago, my host ana (mom) asked me to brush a spider off the wall.  I did, but didn't kill it since it was the longlegged kind that I wasn't afraid of.  My host ana then pointed at my coat, and said I should take it off since I was inside; however, what I thought she was saying was that there was a spider on me.  I screamed.  And also threw my coat across the room. My ana, after a second of shock, started laughing hysterically, and didn't stop for almost 5 minutes.  My host ata (father) later said I almost gave him a heart attack.  My host sibs were just laughing.  Thus they discovered my arachnophobia.  In fact, the next day, I killed two of the little black buggers in my room by throwing books at them, and squashing them on the wall.  The loud "BANG" of the books hitting the wall brought my host sister, who again, doubled over in laughter, but helped me remove the squashed spiders. (I've been told that is Islamic culture, spiders are seen as protectors.  I said they can protect me from outside my room.)

5. Language Problems - This one is a bit unique.  There is a family friend who stops by often, and he likes to practice his English by talking to me, and somehow was also was given my cell phone #.  Anyway, he is a decent enough guy, though he tries to talk about God, humanity, philosophy, and basically lots of things that are way beyond his level of English.  So of course lots of things that he tries to say get garbled and lost in translation.  Well, I woke up one day to find a text on my phone from him, and it read like this, "to you most beautiful my present yourself give to yourself"...which made no sense. But it did raise a fair amount of wariness on my part (this combined with other things that he had said).  So when he came over later that day, I avoided him.  In fact I managed to avoid him pretty successfully for several hours.  Unfortunately, in Azerbaijan, there is no way for you to say, "Oh, I don't feel so comfortable by that person." without everyone asking why, and usually pulling the person over while telling everyone they can that you don't like that person (It just gets more awkward from there).  So when my host sister came and pulled me out of my room and said, "Here, Abdullah." I really couldn't get out of it.  So I sighed and grabbed my computer, pulling up Google translate.  He wanted to know why I hadn't texted him back, and why I kept 'running away' from him. Well, long story short, I used Google translate to outline why I was avoiding him, and my thoughts, and my response if that was the case.  After much explanation, he finally understood what I was saying, and backed way, way, off.  He apologized profusely, and said he never meant to say anything of that sort, and etc...  Anyway, now that has been settled, though it did lead to another awkward conversation about sexual innuendos and why you shouldn't say some innocuous-sounding phrases (ex. turned on) because of the cultural context.  Needless to say, he has studiously avoided all such phrases since then. (Though I still don't know what he was trying to say in that text.)

7. Gifts - This one is just flat out strange.  Apparently giving someone underwear (even lingerie-type underwear) is an acceptable gift between two women.  I have personally received a pair of with sparkly flowers (from my host mother), and another pair with bows and lace (from my female counterpart).  Other female PCV's have received similar gifts, and even though we agree there isn't anything improper about it in this culture (apparently), it's just seems so weird to us.  Soooo, yeah.

A Consideration of Airplaines

     During PST I remember standing outside a friend’s house, my hand on the door handle, but not opening the door.  I was staring at the sky, completely enraptured.  I was watching the stars in a cloudless sky wink and glimmer, the moon cast light onto a white and blue plastered wall, and filtered down through an overarching arbor of grape leaves.  But was really caught my eye was a set of evenly spaced blinking lights in the sky, heading south-east at a leisurely pace; an airplane.  In Missoula, I lived next to an airport and saw planes landing every day, usually flying fairly low over the house.  There really wasn't any magic or mystery to them; they were simply bringing people or materials to Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana, and  I never really felt intrigued by them; perhaps because they were so frequent and represented nothing more than more than returning to a place I felt little love for. 

                                                                                      Credit: Raven                         

     But here, in Azerbaijan, in what many people still refer to as, ‘The Orient’,  I could tell that the plane now flying over me was headed out over the Caspian, bound toward the South Seas, and someplace infinitely more exotic sounding than, “Sumgayit”; which was the location of the small, beautiful, though less exotic  yard in which I stood.  It was also only the second plane I had seen since arriving in this lesser-known part of the world to become a Peace Corps volunteer.  And now, looking up at the plane making its smooth track across the star fields, I wanted nothing more than to be in it, heading towards some unknown destination, and away from the terrifying task that lay ahead of me.  In that way, the blinking lights in the sky captured me and my mind absolutely.  Airplanes seemed a much more mysterious phenomenon than a simple means of transportation.  They represented escape, the thrill of the unknown, and the possibility of new and different people and places.

     I look back on that moment, now with some experience in the village that had so terrified me, and see it in a new light.  In representing escape, it also represented a release of responsibility; specifically, the responsibility of teaching children (and adults) English in my village for two years, the responsibilities of coming up with activities and helping implement programs in my site, as well as representing America, Peace Corps, and myself to the general populace   That weight still drags me down, and I still struggle to deal with the expectations that go along with the acceptance of those obligations.  But at the same time, I understand that you can't run from what scares you forever.  You have to eventually face those fears and move forward with your life; essentially, you have to grow up and accept the duties of adulthood.  At this point, i'm just moving myself forward through sheer willpower, focusing on the day-to-day minutiae that helps me keep putting one foot in front of the other.  I am still scared, and still need small escapes to keep myself from turning and running, but slowly, i'm building up confidence in both myself and my abilities.  And the next time I get on a plane, it won't be to escape from something that scares me, put to head off towards something that does.  In that way, I will keep moving forward in my life; and in that way I will go the only way worth going in life.  Up.

                                                                              Credit: Ajay Talwar

An Azerbaijani Christmas

     So I have now had my first Christmas in Azerbaijan, and I will admit, I was a bit disappointed.  Apparently, most PCV's get together and celebrate at one person's house; but unfortunately for the Agdash region, there isn't really anyone close to celebrate with.  Also, the person we usually go over to see, was out of site.  So be that as it may, I had a reaaaallly interesting day.  I planned out some Christmas lessons for my classes, and got some pictures of Chrismassy stuff to show them, as well as some Christmas music to listen to.  I taught 5th grade (a + b) and they loved it, especially when I showed pictures of my family at Christmas back in the States.  My 7th grade class went a bit catty-wampus though.

   Christmas!

     See, I ran into a guy in the teacher's room who wanted to learn English, I talked a bit about Peace Corps and what I was doing, and then left to go to my 4th form class.  While I'm watching and waiting for my turn, the same guy comes into the class, and comes over and starts talking to me while class is going on.  I'm a bit wary at this point, and when he says he wants me to teach him English, I just tell him that I'll be doing conversation clubs in the Spring and Summer, and he should look up English programs in Baku (since he lives there) He stays and talks to me all through the lesson though, up until I get up to teach, then he watches me teach.  As soon as the bell rings, I escape, and head off to 7th grade.  Unfortunately, my co-teacher, Durdana, is nowhere to be found.  Apparently she had to go do something in Agdash, and she'll be late to the class.  Ok, fine, I can start and then have her take over when she comes back, right?
     Well I start my Christmas shtick, cutting out the more complicated things since I don't have a translator, when who should walk in but the same guy!! This time he has another teacher with him, and they both come in and sit in my class.  I keep going, writing Christmas vocab on the board and having the kids figure out how to translate it into Azeri, (I show pictures to help) except that this time, the guy and the teacher keep answering, or tell the students the answer (sometimes the wrong answer), and when I ask for a student to come up and try to write the correct Azerbaijani word next to the English one (without help from the pictures) the teacher instead gets up and writes them all for the students.  I'm as flustered as the students are, so I switch tracks, and start talking about Christmas as a family holiday, and explain how Families don't all live near each other like in Azerbaijan.  That little cultural lesson went rather well, and as soon as class is done, I bolt, grab my stuff, and head out.  Except that as I head out the door, the same guy follows me out and says he wants me to teach him English every day.
     By this point I am thoroughly creeped out, and trying to get away.  I tell him I have to go home, he says he'll go with me.  I tell him I have a car coming to get me, he doesn't understand, but says he'll drive me in his car.  Luckily, my host brother shows up and takes me over to the car where my host mother (and her driver) are waiting for me.  Thus, the car is full, and the guy turns around and starts talking to some other teachers, asking about me.  I tell my host mother (as best I could) that there was a guy following me and asking about English lessons.  She nods and off we go.
     We get back to the house, I pull up some Christmas music and the Mythbusters Christmas Special, and just lay back until dinner.  At dinner, my host father gave me a Christmas gift of a chocolate bar (80% cacao) and some socks, my host brother gave me some candy and a punch out figure of a women looking like an alien from the 1970's (needless to say, I love it!)  I was happy and went back to watch some more Mythbusters when suddenly, they called me out to meet one of their older brother's friends.  IT WAS THE SAME GUY from my school!!  At this point I just gave up and talked to him for about 2 hours, and gave him simple dialogues, like "Talk about yourself" or "What's Baku like?", but he kept skewing them to topics like God, consumerism, and the human condition.  Which are topics far too complex for his level of English. (And my level of Azerbaijani)  After he left, I headed to bed, but was stopped by Minara (my host sister) asking me to quiz her on her English.  I did a few words, but she was struggling, so I told her to study them, and I'd test her quickly tomorrow.
     I headed to bed again, when my host mom stopped me and covertly gave me her Christmas gift, a pair of underwear with sparkly roses on them. (Is this common here? I've been given socks, bras, and underwear as gifts since I got here, which I find kind of strange) Finally I got to my room, only to be followed in by my other host sister asking me to help her with an exam.  I tried to say I was tired, I had to go to bed, etc... But she just moved some stuff and sat down. *sigh* I helped her with 10 problems before she noticed that I my eyes were closing and I was nodding off.  She said good night and left.  I climbed into bed and finished the last 5 min of Mythbusters, and was about to close down when suddenly, my dad popped up on Skype.
     It being Christmas, I tried to get on for a moment to tell them Merry Christmas.  O. M. G...  Ok, I admit, I was ragged by that point, I had had a long, difficult day of being followed and everyone wanting me to teach them English. I jumped on Skype and called them, and as soon as my sister answered, I practically yelled, "Type!! Just type or we'll get disconnected!"  I then started typing to them, only for them to keep talking, saying, "I can't hear you. Katie?  How come you're not saying anything?" I told them, "Type!  Type to me!" And then, unsurprisingly, we were disconnected. This pattern repeated itself for about 20 minutes, by then end of which, I was typing over and over, begging, swearing, for them to Please, pleasepleasepleasefortheloveofGod just TYPE!  I was ready to scream and just shut it off when by a miracle, they started TYPING!! Yes!  After that, I was able to talk to my family, and I will admit, that was a nice way to end the day and relieve my stress (Thank God my mom is a RPCV).
     Next year, I plan to spend the day with other PCV's, and have hot chocolate, and presents, and a tree, etc...  I am kind of sad that my Christmas was so stressful, but admittedly, I won't be forgetting it anytime soon.  And, as much as I hate to admit it...it'll make a great story for next Christmas.  Good Night to all and a Happy New Year!

Overview of Azerbaijan

(This post is just going to be a quick overview of where I am, what it's like, and what I'm doing.)

  Where I am:
     Sumgayit, Azerbaijan (Now Agdash, Azerbaijan)
  Why?
     Peace Corps - TEFL program (Teaching English)
  Where is Azerbaijan?
     Azerbaijan is boardered by Russia to the North, Iran to the South, Georgia and Armania to the West, and the Caspian Sea to the East.
  Quick History of Azerbaijan:
     Considered part of Eastern Europe, Central Asia, and the Middle East, it is a post-Soviet republic and now does quite a bit of oil work.  It is (tecnically) the birthplace of Zoastrianism, and known as "The Land of Fire".  It is an ancient land, with petroglyphs that date back to the paleolithic era, lots of Zoastrian shrines that date back to 6000 BC, and is the farthest east that the Romans ever went.  It has over time, been an independant area, been under the control of the Ottoman Empire, The Iranian Shah, and (after briefly attaining independance in 1918 for about 8 months) was invaded by Russia and made a part of the Soviet Union, eventually gaining independance in 1992. It is a secular Muslim country and has good relations with the U.S. and Israel, with a focus on business.   (And to answer the most common question I get from back home; No, I don't have to wear a headscarf.)

 

I am currently in PST, or Peace Corps Training, and I am a Peace Corps Trainee, to become a full Peace Corps Volunteer after Swearing In.  Peace Corps has 3 programs in Azerbaijan; TEFL, Youth Development, and Community Development.  My program, TEFL, places American teachers in Azerbaijani schools to help teach English and advance understanding of America and Americans.  I have language class for 4 hours a day,5- 6 days a week, and technical training for roughly the same amount of time.
 (Update)  I am currently a PCV, or Peace Corps Volunteer, working in a small village in the Agdash region.  I have 16 hours of classes, and teach forms 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 8. I work in a small school of about 250 students, and have 2 counterparts (fellow English teachers) that I work with. I live with a local host family and at the moment don't know too many people, but hopefully the longer I am here, the more that will change.

If you have any questions for me, please leave a comment and I'll do my best to answer them!

Peace Out

     Hey Look! I finally posted!  Soooo a lot has happened since my last post, and things that have been stuck in limbo for years all of a sudden decided to sort themselves out, grab me by the collar, and chuck me headfirst into LIFE. No, not the board game, that thing that I've been waiting to start for the past 4 years (ever since I was exiled to Montana).
     So, you may be wondering what it is that finally kick started my life again?  What was it?  I FINALLY (finallyfinallyfinally!!) received a notice in the mail from the Peace Corps, inviting me to serve in Azerbaijan, and asking if I wanted to continue............DID I WANT TO CONTINUE?!  Ever since I got out of college, this is all I've focused on!  In order to complete all the requirements, I've had to volunteer in 6 different jobs, (from delivering coffee and newspapers to every patient in the local hospital, to building sets and costumes for local theatre, to actually scraping out every cent in my savings and begging donations from family and friends in order to go to Ecuador to volunteer teach.  All of this so I could fill the PC requirements 3 times over) had to get more than $2000 worth of dental work in order to be considered, had to have a surgery (that cost more than I like remembering) that 3 different doctors attested that I didn't need because PC wouldn't allow one little box go unchecked, even with 3 different doctors signing off on the fact that it was unnecessary, and lastly, having my mother pull strings and call in favours to so many people that I'm pretty sure I'm in debt to the majority of Missoulas' medical community as well as to most of the RPCV's in the area(including MY MOTHER).  I've spent 4 years of my life and nearly $9000 dollars actively pursuing this, and you ask DO I WANT TO CONTINUE!!!  *ahem* Sorry.  I still get a bit worked up over that letter.  (Though I think it bears mentioning that most other Peace Corps Trainees I've talked to had no problems whatsoever.  So my story is an anomaly, not the norm)...Moving on.

     (At this moment, I am sitting in my host family's living room, watching Russian TV, and listening to Michael Jackson's Greatest Hits as performed on traditional Azeri instruments; which, believe it or not, is actually quite good.)   So everything has turned out well, but I'll admit, my first thought when I read the invitation was, "I don't believe you." (I'll explain why in another post, I've already complained enough)  So I was very calm and laid back as the deadline crept ever closer.  I drove my mother quite insane with my laissez-faire attitude about it, because every time she started getting excited about where I was going and doing, and asked if I was excited or nervous, my answer was, "No."  In fact, even as I was going through security at the Missoula Airport, on my way and waving goodbye to my family, I felt nothing.  I was actually starting to worry about it, since I wasn't feeling anything, about anything.  I was wondering if I should talk to the PCMO (PC Medical Officer), when one night, my host family noticed my tattoos (through my tights) and asked about them.  I pointed to the speedskate I have on .my ankle, and explained that it represents my father.  And all of a sudden, without warning, tears welled up.  My family started yelling, "Oh no! No Cry! No Cry!" and I desperately tried keep from bawling.  While I did manage it, I've now noticed that any discussions about my family or friends (or my dog) are certain to bring me to tears, and it has yet to abate.  I still run with everyone else to check the mail, and pray that maybe, just maybe, I got a letter (or a package) from back home.  Today I got a letter from my friend and high school classmate Katie T.  I promptly ran back to my friends, showed off the letter, and passed around the wedding invitation that came with it (Congratulations Katie!) to general acclaim. 
    Kind of strange that I'm such a loner, and yet, now that I'm here, I can tell that I crave connections with people.  I have Katies' card on my table, and her invitation taped next to my parents letters on my wardrobe door.  I skyped my parents, and my best friend, but still crave that physical link, the feel of the paper, the curves of the writing.  There is something so powerful in that physicality, the knowledge that what you are holding was at one point being held by a friend or a family member on the other side of the world, that they wrote these words and committed them to paper.  It makes me feel like I am not alone, and if I do feel alone (and I have) I can pull out those letters and know that there are people who are thinking of me. 
     I notice that this has gotten off on a tangent, but honestly, I think it was a tangent worth taking.  I'll upload another post to deal with the more general aspects of Azerbaijan and my service.  Leave me a note in the comments if there is anything you would like for me to talk about specifically, and I'll do my best.  Take Care all.
  Fair Winds and Following Seas.