I’m baaaack! Not that I went anywhere. Not physically, anyway. In fact, I haven’t ventured farther than 30km from my apartment in a year. But mentally—spiritually—I’ve traveled some long, dark roads in that time. Who hasn’t? The collective trauma caused by COVID makes 9/11 look like a bad hair day.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m fortunate. Privileged even. I’ve been able to make rent. I still have my highly-rewarding (albeit low-paying) job. Various old age ailments have beset my better half and me, but otherwise we’re healthy. Plus, I live in a place where the science is sound, people retain a keen sense of humor, and healthcare is free. What’s more, thanks to good planning and foresight, not to mention political will and a superlative biotech industry dating back over 30 years, Cuba has four COVID-19 candidates in clinical trials; whole population immunization begins next month.
It can’t happen soon enough. I’m sure you understand. If you don’t, I’ll go ahead and assume you’re a COVID denier, anti-vaxxer or selfish bastard unfazed by the prospect of infecting innocent people. If one of these applies, let me break it to you not-so-gently: Darwin was right and your days are numbered.
But you didn’t come here to listen to me whine and lecture (although this is kinda my bread and butter; deal with it). Rather, you want to know what’s happening here in Havana. For the short attention spanners among you, it boils down to the old saying ‘nuestro vino es amargo pero es nuestro,’ which basically means: it’s a shit show, but it’s OUR shit show.
What that looks like circa February 2021:
Almost everyone is broke, in debt and gasping for air at across-the-board, sky-high prices – Without going into a macro-economic muela about the why of this category 5 economic storm (for which I’m professionally and intellectually ill-equipped regardless), let’s just say it’s multifactorial and transcends COVID-19.
Certain factors are historical, like the blockade/embargo, combined with inherent inefficiencies in the Cuban system, funny accounting, and the informal economy feeding off them. Other factors are cultural, including farmers and middlemen who’d rather the produce rot than drop their prices and a cannibalistic capitalism coursing through many a Cuban vein (provided the chance to make a nickel, these folks snap to action faster than a homely jinetera espying a group of rich Russians).
One thing is clear: the global recession is rocking everyone’s world. And in no way, shape or form is Cuba exempt from this downward spiral. But just to add a little spice to the party—as Cubans, love ‘em dearly, always do—we are currently undergoing the painful, laborious, decades-in-the-making, unification of the currency here and all that entails.
Many of you may remember the late 90s-early aughts when the US dollar, Cuban peso (CUP) and Cuban convertible peso (CUC) circulated concurrently. I do: it was happening when I moved here in 2002. Oh how gloriously naïve I was! Stumbling along in my so-so Spanish, relying on my energetic husband to shield me from the sausage making, and marveling at how Cubans pivot and resolve! I now realize it was like dining at a fine restaurant when things go sideways: it takes forever for your meal to arrive (the first plating slid to the floor), potatoes were substituted for polenta (the sous chef was snorting a line while it burned), and the coulis tastes more like raspberry than pomegranate (the purveyor couldn’t deliver and was subsequently canned). Nevertheless, it’s beautifully presented, delicious even! But you, the diner, are none the wiser to the mayhem and stress going on in the kitchen.
That was then.
Nearly 20 years on, I am no longer unwitting. I am no longer shielded. And things are much, much tougher this go ‘round. This time it really is sink or swim (or at least tread water like your life depends on it). Cartons of eggs have more than tripled in price. The same with powdered milk—the only kind available. Not that these things are necessary available, no matter how much money you have. Cheese—oh beloved cheese!—is another lost cause. People tell me it’s sold in the dollar stores but I wouldn’t know; I haven’t had cheese since August 2020. So we go without. We go vegan. Shouldn’t that be a choice? I mean, forced veganism: how dystopian.
Lines are long, salaries fall short – So we tread water and stay afloat. How? Anticipating this all-too-predictable inflation, the state has raised salaries in an effort to offset the shortfall. Are the higher salaries enough? No. Are they equitable? They are not. Consider the fact that under the new salary structure, a university professor with a PhD earns less than a parole officer with a ninth grade education and you start to see the dynamic. Again, I’m no economist (thank the dear lord), but this new system smarts of the old—in short: same dog, different fleas and making ends meet is a real hardship, a day-in-day-out struggle.
The hard truth is, most months the ends won’t meet. And you’re truly up shit’s creek if a pipe bursts, a stove part breaks or your kid needs new shoes. But we keep on treading.
Barter is a major player in the COVID-19, post-CUC economy. Toothpaste for cooking oil; coffee for mechanical work; cowboy boots for gas—Cuba is on the cutting edge of the in-kind economy. Just yesterday I traded ibuprofen for onions in a marvelous win-win swap.
Solidarity, now as always, is a complementary survival strategy. Alfredo pedals 25km into the countryside to buy fresh yogurt for our Cuba Libro family. First Dailyn and then Jacqueline gave me kibble when Toby’s food was running dangerously low. Kristen and Abel share their abundant harvest with friends, family, neighbors, and the local old folks’ home; I can’t tell you how many people have enjoyed their organic arugula during COVID! There’s another saying here: ‘quien tiene amigos, tiene un central’ which loosely translates as ‘we get by with a little help from our friends.’ Shock froze my family doctor’s face last week when I told him I completed the 14-day, triple pill treatment he prescribed for my gastritis. During the consultation, he warned me that pharmacy stocks were low and I probably wouldn’t be able to get the medicines. ‘I have a central,’ I told him—it was entirely thanks to my friends that I was able to procure the treatment I needed.
And when all else fails, we stand in line. We’re talking 4 hours in line for bread, the butcher, to enter a store or the bank. Entire WhatsApp and Telegram groups, Facebook pages and word-of-mouth networks are active 24-7 letting people know what store has which products and how long the line is. “Café Guantanamera, 23 y 26. Two kilos per customer. Not many people on line,” is one recent message. “Store on 15 y 26 is taking names for tomorrow’s chicken line,” reads another. “Amiga! Chopped meat at 11 y 4. No line!!!” says the one that literally just came in.
Can’t or won’t stand in line? These groups can help out there, too. “Chicken just arrived at the casa del pollo, 5ta y 42. If anyone is coming down, I’m here on line” (meaning, you can scoot on line with your friend). Alternatively, you can throw money at the problem by paying someone to stand in line for you—recent rates were $1CUC/hour during the day, $5CUC before sunrise—or sidle up and buy the numbered ticket from someone who has already been standing on line for hours ($5CUC/ticket). Or, if you’re really in the money, you can rely on black market resellers who provide door-to-door service selling meat, coffee, oil, soap, sponges, detergent—you name it. Probably the best strategy however, is to have someone ‘on the inside’ of the store. They will call you when certain goods come in, meet you ‘round back and load up your bag away from all lines and prying eyes. You pay for your goods, include a nice tip and away you go, stocked and stoked.
Health measures are changing rapidly and there are no ‘get-out-of-jail-free’ cards – Maybe it’s just me, but things seemed more organized during last year’s first wave. Adding to the confusion are new measures that are announced and then rescinded or altered, sometimes even before implementation. Does public transport stop at 7pm or 9pm? Can we shop in stores outside of our home municipality? Are they really putting physical barriers in highly trafficked places to improve distancing on line as announced? Can we travel between provinces in private transport or not?
In January, a friend of mine was driving home from her dad’s house across town. It was about 9:30pm. The cops pulled her over informing her that she couldn’t be driving past 9 (this was weeks before the current 9pm-5am curfew, implemented on February 5). ‘What?’ she asked. ‘That’s one of the new measures?’ They skirted the question (typical) and repeated that she could not be driving at this hour. This friend of mine is young, especially bubbly and possesses the most striking sage green eyes, which she employs to great effect. She talked her way out of the ticket.
Last week, Mary—neither bubbly, nor as young, and certainly not as deferential—wasn’t so lucky. Masked up and jogging with her dog in the local park, she was stopped by the police who told her exercising in public is prohibited. She pushed back, gently. Mary isn’t deferential, but she isn’t stupid either: police are a touchy breed anywhere, regardless of the times or troubles afoot and need to be engaged with caution. They repeated: no running in public. They proceeded to put her in the squad car, take her down to the station and put her in a cell where she spent several hours. It was crowded, physical distancing was impossible and everyone had a tale to tell. There was the guy who pulled down his mask to use his asthma inhaler. There was the couple at the hospital trying to get their second PCR test and were taken in for…being in public without having a second PCR test. Everyone behind bars has a story and who knows if they’re true, but I know Mary’s is. She was taken in for exercising in public, spent hours in close quarters with many strangers during a global pandemic and was issued a 2000 CUP fine—half her monthly salary.
Speaking of jail, my good buddy Miguel called yesterday. You may remember him—he’s serving 6 years on a ridiculous charge. If it’s tense out here, you can imagine how it is on the inside. Total lockdown for almost a year and only a few physically-distanced visits from loved ones in all that time. Not being able to hug or kiss or get horizontal with his wife Esther is taking a mighty toll. Food is scarce—most days it’s rice and split peas, maybe an egg but never two. There’s little soap, no toothpaste, razors or deodorant and without the monthly visits and sacks of provisions hauled out to the campo by family and friends, prison commerce has largely ground to a halt. Parole hearings are still held—on paper—but no one is getting it. At least Miguel has periodic access to a phone; thanks to Cuba’s ongoing tech revolution, I was able to recharge his phone card electronically.
Small businesses are screwed – This is a global phenomenon, we are all well aware, proving that COVID-19 is deadly in more ways than one. But for us, it’s not just about COVID: Trumpty Dumpty and his anti-Cuban puppet masters also tightened the screws precisely as the pandemic worsened. They fined financial institutions helping Cuba weather the storm. They turned back planes of medical supplies. And they shut down Western Union, drastically affecting remittances to families on the island. For years, these regime change hawks harped: ‘Cuba needs a middle class. Cuba needs a thriving private sector. We need to support the Cuban people.’ So we’ll just go ahead and cut them off at the knees and sever all sorts of lifelines during a global pandemic. The fucking hypocrisy. Sickening.
Throw in hyper inflation, reduced purchasing power for consumers, zero tourists, no goods coming in via mulas and you have a perfect storm for sabotaging the private sector and the individuals that have shed blood, sweat and tears building small businesses.
But they will not break us. We have our in-kind economy, our solidarity, our central. We have creativity and community and values. This is how Cuba Libro has survived from March 20, 2020 until today, during which we were open two short (but fabulous!) months. Thanks to donations and unwavering support from people who came for our coffee, volunteered, bought books, gifted books, left tips and helped lift our spirits, we were able to pay rent, maintain minimum salaries of our 7 employees, and keep them connected to the Internet while closed.
These are people who believe in our mission and vision. Who believe that good coffee and music, excellent literature and a tranquil garden can build community and contribute to a better future. That together and by example, we can strengthen commitment to others and the environment, build mutual respect despite differences, and create a safe space for all regardless of gender, race, religion, financial possibilities, sexual orientation, age or ability. These are people who believe that doing good for the collective is more important in the long run than doing well individually. Who believe we all have things worth teaching and worth learning and that great things can be accomplished with few resources combined with collaborative action. Who believe that maintaining our donation programs and book sales during the pandemic is more needed than ever.
Some say I’m naïve, a fool, a dumbass for structuring a small business thusly—where some days (bad days!) I take home less pay than the rest of the team. Still others accuse me of having a ‘white savior complex.’ These detractors are at best confused and at worst so ‘woke’ their insomnia is affecting their analytical skills. To these folks I say: lead, follow or get the fuck out of our way.
Certain people say I’m an idiot, moreover, for maintaining minimum salaries for our 7-member team while we’re closed. We don’t have time for these kinds of people – the ‘not our people’ people. The precious time we have we spend working at our side hustles; sharing and pooling resources and making sure they get to those most needing them; keeping ourselves as balanced as we can and away from the deep, dark psychological hole into which each of us, at one time or another, has plunged in the past year. Just today my friend Anita said to me: ‘girl, ever forward. And whenever one of us is down in the depths, we gotta pick each other up and push each other forward.’ Anita is our kind of people, the ones who know that the worthy things in life have to be built, nurtured, fed and shared. The other ones? Those who say it’s foolish to maintain minimum salaries? They’re the ones who think you can buy commitment and community. And love. You can’t. Beatles, 1964. Hello?!
We’re surviving, but it’s wearing thin. Even with their archetypical sense of humor, tendency to not sweat the small stuff, outlook that tomorrow is another day and let’s live today like there’s no tomorrow, Cubans are stressing. The tension is palpable, audible: ubiquitous sirens at night, parents yelling at their cooped-up kids, and dogs barking (more than usual) at anything that moves; granted, not much is moving these days. Even the silence is tense. No music wafts from windows, no kids laughing or skipping along. No dominoes being shuffled and played under the milky light of a street lamp.
But we keep on keepin’ on. And to all who have helped us, helped Cubans, helped anyone, during COVID-19: we thank you deeply, as our barrista extraordinaire Gaby would say in her so-so English. This is the way forward. The only way. In the meantime, we tread.
PS – The day after I wrote the first draft of this post, my friend Ivan gifted me a wedge of blue cheese. There is something to that ‘put it out in the universe’ stuff!
41 responses to “Nuestro Vino es Amargo…”
Excellent report and attitude, despite the dire situation. Keep moving forward and manifesting cheese. Thanks for this post!
May cheese and live music and health and a vaccine be in ALL our futures! thanks for reading
First time writing, but I have been following your blog for awhile – I love it! I love how you see the beauty and the pain. I am currently living in Havana with my so and I know all too well what you speak of!
P.s. I have some gouda cheese I can share, email me if you would like some! I am in Arroyo Naranjo.
Hola Bonnie. Thanks for jumping in and commenting. Anyone living here like you knows this post could have been a whole lot longer (and darker but who needs more darkness these days?!) Im working on a follownup but am currently consumed with reporting on Cubas 4 vaccine candidates for Covid19. Cant wait for that!
Thanks so much for the cheese offer. I scored some cream cheese the other day and transformed it into frosting for a carrot cake and added chives, garlic and parsley to the rest so Im sated (for now). Plus, Ivan laid another wedge of blue on me. I think his wife is sick of it 😉
Thank you for your stories. They are fascinating, exciting, funny and heartbreaking at the same time. I look forward to reading these. Good luck with your journey.
Sent from my iPhone
For those readers who are not writers: a note like this is the best compensation in the struggle to create and communicate. Thank you Gail! I really had a hard go of it in the creative writing department the entirety of 2020 but–fingers crossed–I may have turned some kind of corner. Take care
Miss you lady! So excellent to hear your voice again. ILunar New Year – metal ox & new moon. Yes!! The collective is what we all need now. Especially bc we are itchy, anxious and ever so tired. Xo claudia
Itchy, anxious and tired. You said it hermana. And yes, the collective — who knows this better than you, Super Teacher?! Been thinking about you mucho. Miss you something fierce
Thank you for this, Conner. Maybe you could do weekly letters from Havana and we could subscribe. I enjoy your writing.
Thanks Brenda. That’s an awesome idea. Could I keep up a weekly ramble? Not sure….but as a result of this post, I did have what may be the idea for my next book (and one of my best ideas ever….after Cuba Libro of course!). Thanks for reading and writing in
“Health care is free”
Umm, no, somebody pays for it. Plus the fact that Cuba is a sh*thole. Keep the faith, comrade!
Never liked the machista patina of the word comrade. Oh well. Here’s to evolving!
Thanks so much for your informative article! I have been wondering how Cubans are faring through this awful pandemic. I really wish I was there with you. I have found out what is often missing in my life and it is this sense of community! Living in north America doesn’t give me that. Reading your article has confirmed this for me, so I thank you.
I am very sorry to hear that your country, your people are, once again, going through such a difficult time:( I live in Canada and am disgusted with what trump has taken away from you. It was looking so good for awhile there with Obama in power. Perhaps the Biden administration will provide more than hope. In the meantime, I would really like to help! Please tell me how best to go about this. I don’t know how to get a donation to you that you can share with your community. I loved the people and beauty of Cuba while I spent time in Jibacoa and visited Havana.
Please let me know what to do and how;)
With hugs from Brenda who cares deeply❤
Hola Brenda. We’re faring pretty well. Despite a spike in cases following the holidays, Cuba has a science-based approach and as I said in the post: PHEW!!!
Im confident two things are going to make a huge difference for us in 2021: Biden/Harris administration (and Dem-controlled congress) and the Cuban vaccine(s) for COVID. In fact, I’ll go out on a limb and say Cuba is going to rock its own world and beyond in the next 2-3 years. We have set up a mutli-level donation program for Cuba Libro. If you drop me a message at firstname.lastname@example.org I will provide details and thanks!
PS – Wish I were Canadian.
PPS – Jibacoa is my favorite place within an hour of Havana. I talk about it at length in 100 Places in Cuba Every Woman Should Go.
Please add my email to receive your blog. Muchas gracias
Hi David. Thanks for your interest! Im not sure I can do that. If you are on a mobile device, in the bottom right hand corner theres a follow button. On a computer the ema subscribe butron is in the right hand menu beside the text. I will see if I can do it but we should try all angles. Cheers
It has been quite a long while since hearing news from you. Your tales from Havana mirror that of my friends in Matanzas and Trinidad City. On the Canadian-end, it is a constant battle to try to find ways to help our Cuban friends. I sent a money transfer to someone in November, to have it canceled by Sendvalu as the service is no longer available. Phone recharges are always reliable, thankfully. I’m now trying to work on bank transfer to a Bandec card for another friend – issues with my bank are preventing me, but after a web seminar with the branch yesterday, hopefully that will be resolved soon. I’m happy to hear that you got some cheese! Small things can make someone so happy. Please stay well, and safe, and feed us a line now and again to keep us in the real loop. I can’t quite remember how I first got connected to your postings (maybe Brenda Durdle?), but however it was, it is good to hear the word. SincerelyChristine
Thanks so much Christine for your kind words and support! One very easy way to transfer money to a bank account here or you can opt for at home delivery (ive used the latter quite a bit during covid and the $ areives within 48 hours) is http://www.duales.com. totally legit, fast, secure. Works from the USA. Stay safe!
it should be noted that duales pays out in CUP at the rate of 25 CUP to $1. since the street value of CUP is in freefall (the last i heard, which could already be outdated, between 36 and 50 CUP to $1), anyone remitting through duales is taking a hit of anywhere from 30-50% off the value of their USD. there is definitely a value in being able to send, versus not being able to send remittances at all, but while it may be as you said, totally legit, fast, and secure, you left out very expensive.
Thank you for this (and all of your) post(s), Conner! We have been wondering/worrying and it is good to get up to date even though the times are mind-bending hard there (and everywhere) now. I will share your blog with all of our travelers who have been there over the years. And we will be back—just not sure when or how, but we will. Hopefully the new administration will make a difference. I also will contact you to get more info from you about assistance and also some info on gastritis. Take care of yourself, savor that blue cheese! y abrazos siempre. Benjamin & Myo. Small Footprint Travels
Benjamin! Myo! how are you? as you can tell, we’re hanging tough. It has been a real struggle keeping Cuba Libro above water but we all pull together and keep each other afloat and just hope the day comes soon when we can open again. You want even recognize the place!! We transformed it to be COVID compliant (we laugh at how we thought the new configuration would only be for a few months; before Cuba opened its borders again in September, things were well under control) and old timers like it even better now. Lots of books. More seating (but distanced); new outdoor patio space. New paint job, some new furniture (donated!) and a new menu.
We can’t wait until you can see it in real life. Anyone looking for socially-responsible, fun, small tours to Cuba should definitely check out Small Footprint. Cheers and hugs.
I am so pleased to see your email address in a different reply, I will send you an email. I so enjoy reading your blogs. Fingers crossed and prayers that Biden/Harris will be an improvement for your beautiful country.
Here! Here! Everyone who has any kind of sweet spot for Cuba–or just for their right to travel where they want–should pressure their congresspeople to lift the embargo!
Thanks for writing, I sure miss Havana and even after 20 trips or so , it never gets old for me, best of luck to you all.
I LOVED reading this and SO much missed your newsletter! …blog? Anyway, I just learned about the change in the Cuban law wherein adult children of former Cuban nationals can apply for citizenship! I am excited about this. I am a cinnamon-skinned, first-generation Cubana-Americana. I’m a communist-leaning, collective liberationist (and a vegan, I think I’d be ok with the peas and rice) and just want to leave this U.S. shithole and move to Cuba NOW.
I have a spouse, who is open to moving, and who is interested in attending medical school in Cuba. She is currently a psychiatric registered nurse. How is the LGBTQ “climate” there. My ex-husband, who has spent a lot of time in Cuba and who told me about your newsletter, says “the gays are very accepted and not bothered by others). My research tells me otherwise (saw the documentary that Fidel’s niece (?) created and I have seen some anecdotal, micro-documentaries on YouTube. It seems we’d be safe in Havana, but perhaps not rural Matanzas??
Anyway, thank you for reading this. I hope you can answer back,. even just a few lines. If not. I’ll just keep reading your newsletter!
Find me on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, TikTok and Twitter! I’m the only Dinandrea in the U.S.!
Hola Dinandrea. Wow. A lot to digest in your note. So first: being vegan here is pretty difficult because there just aren’t that many alternative protein choices (think lots of lentils). But it’s gaining popularity; I had a beet/guayaba/piña/basil elixir made by a vegan cook the other day who does wonderful things with the few items on hand here. So: not impossible but likely impossibly dull? Especially in the peak summer months when produce is basically cabbage and green beans. But doable.
Is your spouse a US citizen or resident? She may be eligible for the Latin American Medical School scholarships on offer. Im really a health journalist here and have written A LOT about the school since it’s founding in 1998. You can find info on how to apply/eligibility at http://www.ifco.org
“The gays are very accepted and not bothered by others.” HAHAHAHA. no laughing matter, of course but just the phrasing and the privilege as a straight (white) male are laughable. This is another area I’ve written TONS about — here on the blog, in my 100 Places book, for Oxfam, for Medicc Review…It’s definitely better in cities I will say that. Cuba Libro was founded as a safe space (among other things) and we have a pretty giant community of LGBTQI and allies. Lots of community programming, literature, flags of all colors, donations etc. While things are better in the cities and better than before, there is still a long road to go in this machista, patriarchal society. There is no gay marriage for example, no adoptions, and none of the full civil and human rights that others have….discrimination DOES happen. Hate crimes DO happen. But basically, if you keep it on the down low and dont “flaunt” it (in quotes because if LGBTQ folks here did HALF the stuff straight folks do….), find your community and allies it should be all good.
OK. data running low and its wicked but wicked expensive. thanks for writing in and you should definitely come for a visit (when its safe viz COVID-19) and check out what life is like on the ground to see if it might float your boat. It aint easy but its rarely dull.
Great update, thanks.
great to see another post from you Conner. I’ve missed them
As you are accustomed to us, your chronicles are spectacular. Just add that very soon the money transfer will be available through https://www.sendvalu.com/
Hola Paola!! good news. Someone who is accustomed to sending money via sendvalu (I’ve never used it but people seem to love it!) told me the site was undergoing upkeep or some such. Please let us all know when the possibility agains becomes available. take care
Today is Feb 18, 2021 3:29 am.
I woke up at 2 am needing to pee and couldn’t fall back to sleep – so caught up on interesting news on CNN and CBC – I live in Canada. Looked at World Covid Data as I follow numbers for a handful of countries trying to see the trends.
Then a wonderful surprise – an update from Conner that was posted a week ago – why hadn’t I checked sooner?!
Thank you Conner! I stumbled across your site about 11 months ago and an immediate “connection” was made. You and Cuba Libro are the reason I plan on visiting Habana on my next trip to Cuba. And I have lots of ideas of what to bring! We’ll see what doesn’t make the cut when I weigh the luggage lol.
Hola Cas! You never know what a 2am pee is going to lead to!
We await you here once its safe to travel. Take care
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Hi Conner ,
It’s great to hear from you again even if the news is so disheartening . It’s hard to fathom how much more difficult it could get in a place where daily life was already such a struggle . I don’t understand the silence of the Canadian Government regarding Cuba . Take care and please keep writing .
Hola John. Yes. As my good friend once said during a different tragedy: it’s going to get worse before it gets worse.
The Canadian govt. The US govt. The global community. It sickens me the world continues to let a few powerful, amoral actors to dictate what happens on an island/to an entire population representing zero threat (on the contrary: with innovative medical treatments, cures, vaccines, equipment, public health strategies, Cuba helps people all over the world–except from the USA). Makes me want to scream.
After 19 years navigating all this embargo BS, I tire of it….
Will try to muster the motivation to write something soon. Take care
Thank you so much for your continuing coverage on all things Havana. Although I only visited for 24 hours while ships were still allowed in port, the city is in my heart and I can’t wait to return once I can!
Hola. Thanks for reading. I should lay aside my COVID malaise and write an update. So many crazy things happening here but I cant seem to get my giddy up to GO! Survival is the priority, I guess….
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