Internal Conflict: Keeping your head with your heart in Kosovo

When I try to tell my parents over Skype what I see here, the first thing they may ask "Are you safe? Don't cause trouble. Don't get hurt."

Don't get hurt.

C'mon. This is Prishtina. Generally speaking, a safer place than New Haven, CT. But sorry to report, I have been "hurt" here.

Look, I'm not going to pretend that I am "hurt" more than someone who actually experienced the war. Not for a minute. However, let me explain.

Truth be told, trying to understand a conflict is not as easy as passive observation. It takes a desire to understand suffering, hate, violence, strategy, injustice, defense, aggression, economics, politics, law, and power. To see all of this played out on a daily basis, even 11 years after the war, and 6 years after major uprisings... well, lets just say it takes its toll. It hurts the most optimistic of optimists. And I tend to be cynical.

In reaction to injustice, corruption, hatred, defensiveness, and politics, I feel a strange sense of idleness, inability, frustration. I get angry having been thrown into a room to discuss (for 9 hours each day) the politics of conflict, listening to who was hurt more, and seeing the anger and frustration between Serbs and Albanians in the classroom (some of whom had family members in the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) and had family members die either from airstrikes or people). After a while, the anger, frustration, prejudice, and politics get to you. You can no longer passively sit, watch, and understand. Unless you (as the "western observer") check your emotions from time to time, they can consume you. At a certain point, your blood boils and reason is lost. Then you realize, "Shit son! This is conflict!"

Let me explain a day in my life here to elaborate:

Friday: A panel between two journalists, one Serb, Nenad Maksimovic and one Albanian Kosovar from the BBC, Arber Vllahu, and the moderator, a Kosovar Albanian, Behar Zogiani. The panel is "supposed" to be on how to conduct ethical, unbiased journalism in a warzone.

The speech begins with Arber saying that what happened in 1999 was a "genocide." He goes into a description of his personal experience of people being tortured, and wounded.

Yea. The room gets heated. The Serb rebuts with numbers (a quick fact check follows by everyone in the room). Then, all of the Albanian Kosovars in the audience sit up in their seats, start shouting out loud at the Serb, trying to convince him it was a genocide, or ethnic cleansing. A genocide, defined by article two of the United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, is "any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such: killing members of the group; causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life, calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; [and] forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.". I am not here to tell you what I think about whether it was a genocide or not (Noam Chomsky, for instance says no). There is no UN ruling or court ruling that what happened in Kosovo was a genocide. However, the Jews in the audience are getting frustrated and upset that the "G" word is applied to something they think it is not. Everyone has a conflict, an experience, a suffering, or a side to defend. Both my friend Anastasia and I ask if the moderator could clarify the argument. He had let it go unchecked up to that point.

As the conversation continues, you get more attempts at "who was hurt more and why" in the conversation. The politics in the room are heating up and soon some of the staff of the university chime in their two bits. A lone Serbian student in the room asks for respect--it was Milosevic, not him or the journalist on the panel, who conducted the horrors of 1999.

The BBC journalist is trying to uphold his unbiased view towards news. The Serbian is trying to not be the "ugly Belgrade Milosevic lover" in the room. I get so fed up with "I AM AN UNBIASED JOURNALIST" defense that I ask about the media's role in the 2004 uprisings, where 3 Albanian kids drowned in a river. The TV blamed it on the serbs and consequently riots broke out, hundreds of churches were destroyed and people (mostly serbs) were killed or thrown out of their houses. HOW can media be unbiased in a place where Albanian flags and Serbian flags still mark territory as if Kosovo itself did not exist? I get the confession, "MEDIA IS BIASED IN KOSOVO" straight from the horses' mouths.

The question remains, "Why did I want such a confession? Why did I feel so angry at both parties for their fighting?"

I leave the room wanting to crawl under a table. My blood is boiling with a frustration, "DON'T THEY REALIZE THIS FINGER-POINTING IS WHY THEY ARE STILL SUFFERING?" I can try to empathize, but I want peace. There are frustrations running all over the place by westerners in the class who just do not know what to think or do now. When you have never had to experience war, empathy may be there, but how much do we really understand the psychology of war? Its easy for me to see this, but I did not have an uncle shot by Milosevic's guys or a church burned.

Fast forward to later in the day. I'm already sweating bullets. I'm riding a cab to a group of Serbian refugees who live in shipping containers (and have for 11 or 6 years, 1999 or 2004 being the move-in date). They sit on their "porches" and usually share cigarettes, jokes, and grievances. Most are old Serbs, still fighting land disputes with Albanians.

One woman, Toni Schmilka, has been there for 6 years. In 2004, a group of Albanians brutally beat up her husband and kicked them out of their apartment. Today, an Albanian lives there. When her husband went back later (even to collect bills in his name there...), he fought with the Albanian. He had a heart attack in his car from the stress, and died. Toni is now fighting a legal battle for the land, but all of the judges are on vacation and there are way too many cases like hers for anything to happen quickly.

The refugees may have families in Serbia, but they do not live with them. Many of the refugees are older, very sick, in need of medicine, and more. They do not go hungry but eat moldy bread. They cannot get jobs. Even Kosovar Albanians cannot get jobs when 40% of the population is unemployed, and its worse for Serbs. Soon, KEK, the Kosovar power plant will start charging them for electricity. KEK does not employ Serbs and will be privatizing soon, so no hand outs to Serbs. The Serbian government does nothing for them. The Ministry of Returns and Refugees in Kosovo does nothing.

All I could do for these guys was share some fancy Djarum cigarettes I brought for them. Its about the nicest thing someone has done for them in a while. I didn't want to make any more empty promises.

The thing that angered me even more was the man with 7 children who moved there 3 months ago because of a land dispute with a brother serb. He was shouting at his wife and demanding that my russian friend Anastasia get Russia to do something for them. His daughter was dying of brain cancer.

So I sat there, angry at the Serbs, the Kosovars, the Albanians, the Serbian government, this asshole who could not take care of his 7 kids, all the while, this blind girl dying of a brain tumor traced the lines of my Orthodox cross bracelet. She pulls me close to her and kisses my cheek when I leave. I look at the eyes of a Canadian girl with me. The sense of inability, confusion, and frustration was enough to make me call a cab early and leave.

Later that day, a man came up to me in a cafe, shouting at me in Albanian. I didn't know what to do. Later, I found out that he was upset that I was an Albanian who did not speak Albanian. That I was forsaking my people. That I should be ashamed at my inability to connect to my people. I had enough.... I told him I was an American so he should just speak English to me or leave me alone. Apparently I look like an Albanian.

Later again, a man grabbed my sweater in the street and I screamed at him. I suddenly was filled with so much rage.

I can only tell you that later that night, someone asked me what I was doing in Kosovo. I was too emotional to answer. Even to someone I love, I lashed out, "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT! I FEEL SO FRUSTRATED I CAN'T TAKE IT HERE! I HATE THE POLITICS! I HATE THE LACK OF ABILITY! I HATE THE ALBANIAN NATIONALISM! I HATE THE SERBIAN INABILITY TO HELP THEIR OWN REFUGEES! I CANNOT STAND THE POLITICS OF EVERY CONVERSATION! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE SO DON'T ASK!"

Later, I calmed down. I realize what I was doing. I was beginning, ever so small and minutely, to understand conflict. I was understanding pieces in the chess puzzle of conflict, and not just as another law student studying Kosovo from afar, but as a human being.

I started writing a short story.

How do you keep a mind and heart in check? How do you keep your head when conflict and violence are not there "to make things clear," but rather confusion, frustration, nationalism, hate, prejudice, and pain that you don't understand? I had been feeling these things and the fact that I felt them scared me.

I realized that I would have to continue observing, feeling, hurting, but making sure to keep my perspective. I really am learning something and understanding some of the most ugly and beautiful interactions we humans must face.

I know I have not expressed every "side" here, or everyone's experience. I have listened to the grievances of Albanians from the time before 1999. I have visited Reycak and seen the graves of the massacre there. I have listened to Serbs talk about their houses being burnt down and their husbands beaten to death in 2004. I have listened to Albanians tell me about how they watched their families killed in front of their eyes by the hands of Milosevic's army.

It hurts me. I cannot deny it. Of course not as much as they have. The first problem a "third party" faces is the feeling of inability, the feeling of the need to take sides in order to "help." Feeling these frustrations, seeing the suffering, all of this hurts you. You can't understand why they cannot understand that these ethnic hatreds are what perpetuate conflict. Yet at the same time, you know they that even though they may know this, psychology is a funny thing. Death and war does hard things to the mind. Hurt continues.

What I have written here has not come to any conclusion on "who was right and who was wrong." I only wanted to show the mental difficulty of all sides in trying to move on (or understand) after conflict. This is written for those abroad, who have not seen such things as Kosovo. Those Kosovars here, (whether you are Albanian, Serb, Turk, or Egyptian), please understand that I do not want to take sides. I only want to show something to those at home that this conflict is not so easy as they may think. I'm sorry if I have offended anyone, I do not mean to. I am sorry for what has happened to you. I will empathize, but never enough for what you truly deserve. Yet you have a heavy and hard job now to make peace. Change history. Just because fighting happened before, does not mean it has to continue. I have faith in you.

Snoop Dog and the Kanun

" No one in my clique fails
As females with the almighty Father lead
Succeedin' ta give my peep's just what they need
And it ain't no party like this kind,
Cause you can leave your worries behizzind " ---Snoop Dogg, "The Doggfather"

With lyrics like this, I could not help but think that Kosovo was the perfect place for an artist like Snoop Dogg to visit.

Yes. Y'all hear me. Snoop D double O G came to Prishtina on July 10th with Z mobile. After .50 cent made an appearance last summer, Kosovo has been bringing a lot of older generation rap artists to Kosovo.

Now, Kosovo, as you all know, and Albania for that matter has always been stereotyped as a place of corruption, the mafia, pretty women, and big parties that made The Boston Globe vote Prishtina the "ugliest and most fun capital in Europe." (March 21, 2010). Basically, there is a culture here of good drinks, good clubs, sexy women, horny men, and maybe even an admiration for the mafia culture (family, blood, money).

This family, blood culture (both mentioned above and in Snoop Dogg's gangsta lyrics) recalls to me the Kanun of Lekë Dukagjini, an ancient code of Albanian law dating back to the Bronze Age, whose four main "pillars" are

1) Honor

2) Hospitality

3) Right Conduct

4) Kin Loyalty.

The Kanun also permits a practice of Gjakmarrja, a blood feud or revenge where a family member can kill someone for some sort of dishonor or death of a relative even generations before. This creates (or comes from) a very close knit, almost mafia culture itself.

So Snoop Dog. Albanians here must be diggin his sounds. So, I go to the concert for 10 Euros. The place is hopping. A haze of cigarette smoke covers the crowd (a Ferrari with free Winston cigarettes was parked outside). Lots of boozin and lawlessness, though they did pat me down and search my purse quite seriously.

I stand in the crowd and listen to a ton of other Kosovar artists (one just holding a mic to do "O! O!" voice overs to Lil Wayne and Snoop Dogg). After all of this and a bunch of call and response, an hour after the opening acts, Snoop comes on, singing a lot of his old 90s hits.

When the crowd gets a bit tired, he says, "I know what is goin make y'all jump around!" Cue the song, "Jump Around." Snoop Doggy Dog brings out an Albanian flag, making all of the ethnic Albanian Kosovars freak out in delight. A mosh pit erupts.

Later on, Kosovars give him a "Kosova" flag and shirt, making the lyric true,

I'm a gangsta, but y'all knew that
Da Big Bo$$ Dogg, yeah I had to do that
I keep a blue flag hanging out my backside
But only on the left side, yeah that's the Crip side
Ain't no other way to play the game the way I play
I cut so much you thought I was a DJ" ----Snoop Dog's "Drop it Like Its Hot"

A gangsta kid comes on stage and the delight trifecta is complete: Kids, Kosova, and Albania.

Snoop Dog ends up speaking about how "I Love Kosovo, its a beautiful country and whenever you Muthaf***ers want me back, I'm here yall. If all you hatas don't like it, you can just f**k off!"

I really think he is an Albanian Kosovar, or maybe this whole country just thinks that they are all Crips.

"The Sun Rises in the West"

When the UN and NATO sought to create a stable multi-ethnic society in Kosovo, I don't know if they envisioned a multi-national society as it is now. Walking down the streets, you see more Norwegian NATO, American lawyers, Austrian bankers, and Turkish businessman more often than not. An Albanian once joked with me, "Because I'm an Albanian, I am a minority here." Talk to many Albanian Kosovars here, and they will tell you they like the international presence. They are thankful for it. As the joke goes, "The Sun rises in the west for Albanians." The society here attempts to adopt the styles, the fashions, the look and feel of the West (whether by choice or by the forces of internationalization of the region... you choose).

In reality, UNMIK, EULEX, and K-FOR sought to create a multi-ethnic society where the Albanians, Serbs, Bosniaks, Turks, Christians and Muslims could live in peace. Generally, society is getting along with help of international security and heavy policing, but some ethnocentrism and blood feuds from the war and ongoing conflict remain. For instance, the divided city of Mitrovica, where Serbs live in the North of the central bridge and Albanians live in the South, there is still ethnic violence. A few days ago, a grenade went off killing one. Ethnic tensions still exist, even as a lot of the population westernizes or caters to international expectations.

All of the ethnic divides in a NATIONAL population of around 2 million are a cause for concern for the population living there. Can 2 million people of different faiths, ethnicities, and historical antipathy towards one another really live together as such distinct identities? To many, the answer is no. The result? The government tries to homogenize some of the most obvious outliers of the population. They try to ban Muslim headscarves first of all from public places. The result? A huge protest of 1,000 people wearing traditional Muslim garb. Two days ago, a Kosovar Serb Parliamentarian went to North Mitrovica to convince the Serbs there (still living under Serbian flags, Serbian money, and no license plates), to accept Kosovo's legitimacy and government and was consequently shot in the leg.

Trying to force the population under a single identity is not easy. Clearly.

One wary taxi driver once told me, "We have to be the same. We cannot have one foot in the West, one arm in Islam, one head in Albania, one leg in Austria, one hand in Serbia, and this idea that we are still Kosovo. It is not possible."

Can Kosovo be a multicultural America with such a small population? As they say here, "What to do..." No question mark.

PS Keep your eye out on my piece of Journalism about Serbian Refugees.

The 51st State and the 4th of July

Many people ask me about the culture in Prishtina. While I cannot speak for the greater Kosovo area, I can give you a glimpse into life here:

On any given weekday, you can walk down the main boulevard to see plastic seals, gummy balls, and corn being sold to young mothers in flashy clothing holding finicky two year olds. Young tween girls flock arm in arm in excessive amounts of what looks like Limited Too pink gear. Boys in embroidered jeans and high maintenance hair styles stare at me. Women who look like Ke$ha trip in high heels. Many people sip tasty macchiatos in outdoor cafes, while young professionals from around the world carry backpacks and speak loudly in English. Kosovo is a poor country, judging by the high numbers of brand new Mercedes Benz SUVs, BMWs, and even VWs. Store fronts boast "AMERICAN CLOTHES" and "VICTORY FASHIONS" with flashy made up women as models. Streets are cracking and old buildings in the center of the city still stand. Inserted in the cracks are pieces of American capitalism gone a little haywire.

Despite being a generally poor country, everyone is decked out in many accessories that begs a sort of western acceptance. As one Albanian joked with me, "We albanians are minorities here. Everyone is either a foreigner or wants to be one."

This is accurate. On the 4th of July, I celebrated with hundreds of other Kosovars, listening to local artists on a main stage that had an American flag waving proudly, with the words "Hello America" on a poster with the statue of liberty behind the stage. Everyone stood back as camera crews took up the closest spots to the stage (a good 15ft by 15 foot square). The broadcast was certainly for someone else. I had "Enchiladas ala bil clinton" at the "Route 66" cafe. There were fireworks and celebrations. Even the Canadians, Dutch, and Swedish Ex-pats were celebrating.

On a banner nearby, there flew the Albanian flag, the American flag, the Kosovar flag, the British flag, and the Italian flag. Another building was waving the Swedish flag. Viennese chocolates are sold in grocery stores and Turkish Borek and Doner is everywhere. Don't forget the mosques and the ladies in hijab. Like any good European country, Kosovo too is trying to ban the veil--though protests fueled with 1000s of Muslim veiled women, men in beards, and foreign money take to the streets.

Where is Kosovo? Where is the "culture"? Call it what you will, but in many ways, it is a bit of a mini capitalist Epcot center, where the culture is an amalgamation of cultures, dollars, and music tastes.

Another New Kosovo

Last year, my impressions of Kosovo were as follows: war torn country with the UNHCR in the middle of town, KFOR walking around, NATO with their guns, empty streets with a clear view of Mother Teresa and Bill Clinton, optimistic youngsters with new business plans, disco-disco clubbing girls, a multi-ethnic society, the world's best kept legal secret (well, obviously not so secret, but for students, hell yea!).

In some ways, my impressions still hold true, but there are many things I see completely different, having changed, or just a difference nuance that I did not see.

A list (I like lists) of new or different things:

--Prishtina has busy streets, no lie. I was here on the weekend last summer (no one is out on weekends) so I never really saw a busy city.

--NATO is leaving, so not as many guys with guns (though some Portuguese NATO/KFOR guys did try to pick my friend and I up today. As Anastasia, my hard as nails/soft as cotton/funny as hell filmmaker, journalist Canadian Russian buddy, says, Prishtina may not be quite as "badass" without NATO, but it definitely does not feel like a warzone anymore. This is the general consensus of most journalists who are packing up for Gaza, Afghanistan, or Iraq... and Turkey.

--Not every man looks like they are on the Yugoslavian basketball team, despite some people thinking so.

--Muslim Fundamentalism is on the rise.

--Kosovo feels even safer than it did last year. Not only that, it is safer. The economy may be corrupt, but the crime rate in Prishtina is lower than most American cities.... though keep your wallet in check. This rate could just be that the retired NATO officers living here know how to keep their shit together (forget Boca Raton, Prishtina is cheaper and more interesting to retire to).

--Albanians are a minority in a sea of Canadians, Americans, Germans, and international acronyms. Like the Jews and Israel, there may be more Albanians in NYC than there are in Albania or Kosovo.

Naturally, there are many new things I am encountering. Like any new kid to town, my eyes are starry eyed and I look inquisitively at everything. More "enlightened" analysis will come later as I begin my mile high stack of books in my new apartment here. Thought I would give the update though.....

Simply put. Mom, I'm safe.

A Woman of ALL Nations (or no nation)

In the West, we hypothesize about why the conflict in the Balkans happened: the rise of Nationalism, the strive or ethnic independence, ethnic supremacy, da da da (as they say here), but talking to locals who have been displaced by the war gives you a different insight, naturally.

The first was my hostel/homestay host in Mostar, Bosnia. She was a Catholic, married to a Muslim, displaced to Croatia and then Norway (because a Muslim last name just did not work out in Croatia). She was explaining the war to me in terms of sides. She however could not explain to me how or why these sides developed. As she said, "It was confusing. No one knew what was going on. I just knew to leave .

Here in Kotor, Montenegro, I met a Bosnian woman from Banja Luka (she was the hostel manager). We got to talking. When I asked her what nationality she was, she said, "Nationality? I am a woman of the world. I just happened to be in Montenegro, but I'm from Bosnia. If I felt like living in Spain I would. You need to stop thinking of nationality. People who thought of that were stupid. "

I asked her how she got here, she said she was on holiday here then the NATO airstrikes began and should could not get back to Banja Luka, so she opened up shop as a hairdresser and a clothing maker. As she said, "Forget what you know. Nationalism or politics. All that matters, just in case is what you can do with your hands."

I asked her what she thought had happened and why it happened (a broad question I know, but I wanted to keep her talking. She was very bright and enthusiastic to talk about this, unlike others I have met here). As she said, "Yugolavia was a beautiful thing, but then this whole WW2 fright got in the way. The Croatians started wearing symbols that scared others. If they had not been allowed to remind us (the children of a scarred generation) of this suffering, then we would have been okay. But no, the get Milosevic in and they ordered a war. Who? I don't know. Its not Nationalism its MONEY. We did not cause this war. Someone else did. Someone said, "Okay, 60,000 people will die, we will focus on the Bosniaks, go!" and that is what happened. It was money. Why else is Russia invested in Montenegro, or Italy in Croatia, or the US in Kosovo? Others dividied it up. Someone ordered a war. Yugoslavia was strong."

She continued her distaste for nationalism, humanitarianism, etc. "Humanitarian workers were all young, like you, and had money. They all just sat in fancy houses with electricity, when we had none. They could not help except with a bottle of water. That is all."

As she said, "Memory is a scary thing. Nationalism was dangerous, but people are stupid. We were beautiful united. It is not stopping me. I am a woman of this planet."

Whether I agree or not, I do agree with her last statement.

War Tourism: Why Does this Feel Wrong Again?

When I got off the plane at Sarajevo, there is one thing running through my head, "How war torn is it going to be??" This is an unfair sort of thing to think perhaps, but being an American who has not seen the ravages of war first hand (other than in Kosovo perhaps), but has always seen it on TV, this "wanna see the war" mentality is almost like a sickening craving.

I get into a cab, and yes, the war is visible: holes in concrete where mortar shells hit, empty buildings, ruins, mass grave sites with white markers etc. Many things one would expect to see from the horrible 1992-1995 siege of Sarajevo by Serbs. (Only a few years after the Olympics in Sarajevo in 1984). My eyes fixated on those things, maybe instead of realizing the Mango, the Sisley, the Mazda dealer, the restaurants, and the bustling traffic, all very orderly.

When I get to the hostel, I encounter other travelers, begging to see the Tunnel where Bosnians smuggled goods, weapons, and people during the war. All talking about how much a disappointment certain places are because they don't have "real" handicrafts. (What, you don't like that plastic AK-47 souvenir? Let me give you a real one... But by the way, I've seen the same silk scarf in Egypt, Bosnia, China, and Turkey at this point, all claiming to be "hand made") Basically, people are trying to show each other up on who has a more "authentic cultural experience."

It got me to thinking, and writing this piece as a drank Bosnian coffee: now, is "culture" being bought and sold just like pollution credits, cigaretts, cars, and the United Colors of Benetton? So what is a world traveler to do? Suddenly culture is lost in not a "cultural" discovery, but an "economic" one--lets go see war, poverty--things we can't afford (in many ways other than what you are thinking).

Suddenly a journey means seeing that which is war torn, then saving it. If we are beyond the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, I would call this one the Age of Mechanical Reconstruction of culture, where culture is reproduced, reconstructed, bought and sold.

You know when you come to Sarajevo, you want to see and hear of war and bullet holes and mines. There is something more exotic about that than seeing maybe a Hawaiian hula girl or eating real Chinese food. Especially us young folk, we like to feel suspicious of the land we visit, trying to show one another up on who did what more dangerously by embellishing just, "How war torn Sarajevo was" or "how strange it was they have not repaired the bullet holes" when meanwhile, it is not "as bad" as we make it out to be. In fact, its safer than small town America at 10:00 at night.

The American mentality loves to find reasons to be paranoid. There is something foreign about domestic war (and even poverty). After all, we really haven't seen war since the Civil war. So that is ages (even before the real hit of "The Age of Mechanical Reproduction.") Other than pearl Harbor, 9/11 and maybe some domestic terror like Oklahoma City, we really have not seen as much as we like to imagine with our American paranoia. Instead, we have bred maybe a sicker kind of warfare of mind, drug, sex---not to mention the types of meth lab crimes and sick things you hear about that go on in the American west (tying up people in a house and watching them die?)

In our paranoia, we almost crave to see and point out the perversion of the rest of the world. We crave to point out how sad, poor, desperate everyone else is. (Why else do you watch ET or Inside Edition? You want to see some crisis fabricated. Don't get me started on Lifetime).

Should we be ashamed of our obsession with this "war tourism" or "poverty tourism" that goes on so much? Perhaps. Yet maybe before we judge others, we should look what is happening to people in downtown Brackenridge, PA.

Will I stop being cautious, paranoid, or interested in the "warzone?" No. Its almost as American as apple pie. I run into travelers here with no fear, until their purse is stolen. I am cautious, but I have fun too (it did not stop me from befriending some fellow travelers and going to certain "warzone" areas with them.. after all, its better to not be alone and be with a Mexican guy who went to Penn or a Canadian doctor).

Well, ready to take on Montenegro and Croatia. In one day. Holla.