Apr. 18th, 2017

When it comes to art galleries, I'll admit that I'm more of a museum girl. Don't get me wrong- I quite like going to art galleries, especially when they have interesting shows going on. It's just that I never seem to think of them off the bat when I'm looking for something to do. Like any big city, there are many, many art galleries in Seoul. Some are big, some are small, and they showcase a variety of different arts. There are three in particular that I have a tendency to frequent, and they are three of the biggest ones: Seoul Museum of Art, Seoul Arts Center and Dongdaemun Design Plaza. Those are the three that I'm going to regale you with, starting with Seoul Museum of Art.

Seoul Museum of Art (SEMA) was actually the first art gallery I ever went to while in Seoul, way back in my first few month living in Korea, and I've been there on two separate occasions. It's a three story building a ten minute walk away from Seoul City Hall and Deoksungung Palace. It has six exhibition halls (plus a library for art related writings), one of which is a permanent and the rest of the halls are for temporary exhibits, which switch out twice a year. These traveling exhibits are from around the world, and they come in a wide variety of subjects. There are the classic art shows, like Van Gough (which I didn't see, sadly), to more quirky themes. It was two of those exhibits that I went to SEMA to see. The first of those exhibits was one of the quirky ones, and it was the Tim Burton exhibit. I am a huge Tim Burton fan, have been since I first saw The Nightmare Before Christmas when I was a little kid. I love the dark aesthetic and the dark humour of Burton's work, and was really excited to go see the exhibition of his work. I wasn't completely sure what to expect, since 'art exhibit' in my mind equalled famous paintings on walls (or maybe some sculptures), but I have to give it to SEMA- they sure know how to design an exhibit. They turned a good chunk of the museum into a look that would fit into Burton's work, starting with the front gate. The arch that led up to the gallery had parts of a bronze cast iron fence on the regular stone pillars, and looked to be covered with thorny steel vines, and odd looking things throughout all of that. When you finally got into the museum, there was even more to the design. The first thing you saw when you walked in the building was a giant balloon thing, that was meant to look like some nightmare character out of a Burton film (blue skin, massive head, one eye, no other facial features to speak of). That, more than anything else, set the tone of what I was going to see. It just screams 'brace yourself- this is going to be weird'. The hallways leading to the exhibits were just as awesome, one of them designed to look like you were walking into the mouth of a crazy, Nightmare Before Christmas-esque monster. It's intense.

The exhibit itself was divided into three different sections, taking up three different rooms. There are some examples of his earliest works, drawings that let you show how he has evolved as an artist and a film maker. There is an amazing amount of artwork, both done by Burton and those involved in his films. There are examples of story concepts that never came to fruition , only known in the art drawn for it. A favourite of mine was a re-telling of Romeo and Juliet with long legged, colourful monsters that looked like something out of a cheerful Salvador Dali painting. The picture used actually managed to look romantically adorable, which really says something. There are also props and pieces from the various movies, including the famous ones: Alice in Wonderland, Edward Scissorhands, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hallow, Batman Returns, and many more. The best, in my opinion, was (of course) The Nightmare Before Christmas. You could actually see the original stop motion dolls used in the film (fun fact- those are much bigger than I anticipated). It was all very exciting for a Burton fan.
The second exhibit I went to SEMA was far more traditional. It was an exhibit dedicated to the work of Paul Gauguin. While there were other works, much of the focus was Gauguin's Polynesian period and the period just before, where he painted many a religious scene. Gauguin was born in Paris who started painting with Impressionism. His use of colour eventually took him beyond that style, and he began to paint based on his own experience with his own imagination added in. Opposed to industrialization, Gauguin eventually moved to Tahiti, a place with little of what he considered civilization.

From here is where some of his most famous works come from. The highlight of the show was Gauguin's most famous work, a massive painting called Where Do We Come From, What Are We, Where Are We Going. It shows Tahitian people relaxing in nature, painting with a mixture of browns, greens and other more muted colours. It's a beautiful piece. It's not the only famous work there, and they were all lovely to see. The paintings for the Polynesian are wonderful, capturing the causal moments of the Tahitian people. While there is absolutely some othering in the paintings, and you get a sense of Gauguin painting these subjects as an exotic idealism, they are still great works, and I recommend seeing them if you ever get the chance.

While I attended two shows at SEMA, I've only seen one at Seoul Arts Center, and that was the Studio Ghibli exhibit. Studio Ghibli is an animation studio out of Japan, and I'd wager that it's one of the most famous studios outside the ones that dominate Hollywood. The work that comes out of Studio Ghibli is award winning for the beautiful animation, and has been released and translated in many countries, including Canada. While it might not have gained as much widespread popularity in mainstream North America, is truly is a world renowned studio. In Japan itself, Studio Ghibli has five of the highest grossing movies. Spirited Away, Kiki's Delivery Service, and Princess Mononoke are only some of the most populr films to come out of the studio. I am a huge fan of the movies, both the amazing animation and the truly deep, thought provoking plots and themes that go with them.
When it comes to space, Seoul Arts Center (SAC) is actually better than SEMA. SEMA is incredibly crowded and close together, which can be stifling if there's a crowd.

While SEMA uses three galleries, SAC uses six, which gives you a lot more room to move. Those exhibits showcase the best work of the creator of the studio (Isao Takahata) and the studio itself great works, including the ones I listed above. Of course, this is mostly done through artwork. Not only drawings, but paintings and models as well. I love the style of Studio Ghibli, and getting to see all the art up close was spectacular. There was also a section devoted to the art style that the studio works with, called the Layout System. It's technical knowledge that helps you get a deeper look at how the movies come to life, and it's interesting. The amount of work that went into it is obvious. It was a beautiful exhibit, one that anyone who loves animation would be thrilled to see. The design was amazing as well, with the corridors looking as though they were scenes out of one of the films themselves.

Last, but not least, Dongdaemun Design Plaza. This is actually a massive, oddly shaped dome building that only opened in the past couple of years. There are always multiple exhibits going on, with one big one (usually). There's also been a festival or two hosted here, including a Pikachu Festival, held after a Korean won the world Pokemon card tournament (that festival, however, was poorly planned -though getting my picture with a Nicole sized Pikachu was awesome-, and thankfully the exhibitions are much better). Now, I'm going to wax poetic, because they had a WETA Workshop show. WETA Workshop is the New Zealand based company that did the conceptual design (armour, creatures, props, costumes, etc) for Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit. This is the company that helped bring Middle Earth to life. The joy I felt when I found out this was coming to Seoul cannot be explained. There were life sized statues of different characters (the trolls, Azog, a Nazgul and Gandalf), and I gleefully skipped among them. There was a beautiful set piece in bronze that showed Gollum in his cave in the Misty Mountains. There were small models of the locations and characters. There were smaller props and concept design drawings, and it was all very, very glorious.

Suffice to say, it was a day where everything was right in the World of Nicole. Now, WETA hasn't just done Lord of the Rings. It's worked in a number of other films, and those are showcased there. They also had two original concepts as well, both fascinating (though sadly none seemed to be anything more than just an exhibit). The storyline and art were stunning, especially for The Gloaming Trilogy, the story of a human who gets dropped into a magical world and a troll has to go on a journey to get them back. The creature design is some of the most unique and fascinating I've ever seen, and I got to see it in sculptures and art. The fact that this doesn't actually exist as a piece of fiction is a tragic thing for me.

It goes without saying that, obvious, these are no longer the shows that are on at any of the three galleries. They've all been changed out by now, multiple times. I'm sure you're wondering why I'd go into such detail about exhibits that are temporary, and here's my answer (it's a two-fold one). First, these are exhibits that travel all over the world, so there is actually a chance that you'll run into it somewhere, someday. When that day comes, you'll think back an go 'hmmm....Nicole did mention how wonderful this was!'. Secondly, it's to give you an idea of what those three art galleries have to offer, in a more general sense. One (or two) well put together exhibits speaks volumes of the quality of the gallery, and whether or not it's a place you should keep an update notice on. of Because of these handful of shows, these are the places that I do, in fact, keep an eye out for.
I love traditional Korean architecture. It is, hands down, one of my favourite things in Korea. I don't just mean the big, fancy designs, like you see on temples and palaces. I love the simple, common buildings as well, with their black and white tiles that look piled onto one another and that curve up into a wide arch, and their wooden chestnut brown base. They're almost elegant in their simplicity, and I love looking at them. That's why, of course, I was all over Bukchon Hanok Village.

Hanok village is an area of a community that is made up of traditional buildings. A While that's actually not all that uncommon, these are specifically named and cared for as such, just like the way Canada markets historic communities and areas of town. There are hundreds of hanok buildings here, and some of them date back to the Joseon dynasty. They're maintained and kept this way for tourists, but people do live here. It's a fully functioning area of the city, though a number of the buildings have been made into teahouses, guest houses, and places to create traditional Korean crafts. It depends on the day and the time (which meant that going on a Sunday when there's only ah hour and a half of daylight left, like I did, means you're not going to be able to do any of them), but there are plenty of experiences you can choose from. You can learn flower pocket making, how to naturally dye a handkerchief, make a paper jewellery box, make a paper doll, paint a folk scene on a fan, make a traditional frame for latticework, gilded bookmarks, a mother of pearl inlaid key chain, and bracelets. There's even a soju (the most famous alcohol in Korea) experience, though I'd urge a bit more caution on that one, just in case.

Another wonderful thing about Bukchon Hanok Village is the location. It slants up on a hill, so expect to get a workout while you explore. The streets twist and turn, and I know I got lost a number of times (to be sure to pick up a map from one of the tourist information centres). Wandering down narrow roads and alleys might be getting lost, but it's a good getting lost. There were wonderful buildings all around me, though you could only see the roof of most, because brick walls taller than me surrounded the houses themselves, giving the residents privacy. If you found yourself on the top of a high point however, you could look down and see those buildings laid out, one after one. The maze like pathways were not the only interesting thing about the location. Bukchon Hanok Village is located just north of the palace district, and since it's up so high, you're granted an amazing view of Gyeongbokgung Palace (more on that next month) on the west end of the village, and Changdeokgung Palace on the other. The views are stunning, where you can see the entire complex sprawled out behind the gate at the front. On the west side you can see the National Folk Museum of Korea, which is shaped differently than all the others I've seen in Korea. It goes up in stone layers, stairs leading up to three stone terraces, with a towering, colourful temple like pagoda at the top. They look as amazing from a distance as they do up close.
The Bukchon Hanok Village isn't the only place great for an afternoon/early evening stroll.
If you're more in the mood for a calming walk down a river or a lovely picnic, Hangang Park in the place for you. Hangang Park stretches down the bank of Seoul's famous Han River. It's a long park, if not a very big one. There are many things to offer at each part, most importantly the lovely walk, but I'm going to narrow it down to one section specifically. That section is where the Han meets Yeouido, which is generally accepted as the best. If you're wondering where you've heard the place name 'Yeouido' before, that would be because I visited Hangang Park just after seeing another Seoul landmark, Building 63. The park is less than a ten minute walk from the building, so I decided to take a stroll before heading home. To get down to the river itself, you have to pass through an open, grassy area. It's a place that's just perfect for a picnic. There were people everywhere, families and couples spread out on blankets, kids paying ball or flying kites, basically every park activity you could think of, happening right there. Once you pass through the picnic area, you find yourself down at the river banks. I'll admit that it's not the prettiest waterfront I've ever seen, at least in the day light. It's not ugly, by any means, but it doesn't seem to be anything special...until the sun sets. Then, the buildings on all sides of the Han turn on their lights, and the river lights up with the reflection of them. The water shimmers as mirrors the nightlights of the hundreds of tall buildings that tower over it. It's a beautiful sight, which is probably why so many dramas (Korean TV shows) are filmed here. If you need a romantic moment by the Han for your show, Hangang Park on Yeouido is the place to go.

Another great thing is that you don't need to stay landlocked. Ferry cruises leave from this area of Hangang Park, ones that take you up and down the Han. There's a ton of them to choose from- some are just a trip up the river, others provide dinner and a show. Depending on your price range, you can go simple or elegant. They also run throughout the day, and I've been told a night time cruise on the Han is a beautiful thing, even if I've never gotten to go on one myself. Given how pretty night on the Han is from the shore, I can just imagine how beautiful it would be from the middle.

It's Hangang Park that brings us to the last part of today's travel guide, because this is the location where it happens. Instead of a place this time, I'm going to talk about an event. That is the Seoul International Fireworks Festival. I've probably mentioned it before, but there seems to be a festival for everything here in Korea. I'm not even surprised to hear about festivals anymore, so of course I didn't even raise my eyebrows at the mention of one for fireworks (there's actually another one, down in the city of Busan in the fall). It happens annually in the summerish months, and it's a festival not to miss. Surprisingly enough, I didn't actually go to this my first year in Korea. I can't remember why, exactly, only that it didn't sound all the impressive. I mean, once you've seen one fireworks show, you've seen them all, right? Wrong.

The festival takes place over the Han, with boat in the middle where the fireworks go off from. Before the fireworks begin, there's performances and shows at the park. That said, I highly caution against trying to take in the show at Hangang Park itself. The crowds are insane, and I mean that in a you can't even move your arms you're packed in so tight, crowd. Being forewarned of this, I decided to watch the fireworks from a distance. There's quite a few bridges that cross over the Han, and I (along with many others) decided to watch the show from one of them. In the end, it's a choice I was very happy with. Not only was it less crowded, but fireworks look better from far away, where you don't have to crane your neck to watch them light up the sky. You can see them all go off in your field of vision, and don't have to take your eyes off them to catch it all. Also, I got treated to a beautiful sunset from the bridge. I slowly watched the sky go orange to black over Building 63, making it shine gold for a brief time, and watched the sides of the river light up. So take my advice- watch from one of the bridges, not the park where the festival technically takes place. Oh, and no matter where you go, get there early if you want to stand somewhere with a clear view.

I didn't expect the variety of fireworks that were sent up into the sky. There were the pretty basic ones, white, green, blue, and red light exploding into pretty balls, and then there were the more elaborate ones. There were fireworks that turned into smiley faces, and that looked like Saturn, a planet with rings around it. There were multi-coloured ones, and ones that were shaped like the infinity symbol. Some changed colour after exploding, and some that moved around like something out of Harry Potter. The end, where at least fifty fireworks went off one right after the other, lit up the sky like it was daytime. Some were types I'd seen before, but others were completely different and far more interesting than I'd ever seen. They would go for twenty minutes, stop for ten, and then repeat. It lasted for a little over an hour over all, another thing that surprised me. It was a pretty spectacular night. While the Seoul International Fireworks Festival might not necessarily best in the world (not that I've seen many to compare it to, quite frankly), but it is a great fireworks display, and I recommend it if you're in Seoul the night it's happening.

So there you have it- three more things that you can do in Seoul. One traditional, one relaxing, and one exciting. Three different experiences, something for everyone, and each a great time.
I've been to quite a few temples since I've come to Korea. There are similarities between them all, most notably in how beautiful they are. Another thing many temples have in common is that they offer Templestay programs. Templestays are an overnight look into Buddhist life. The activities depend on the sect of the temple, but they're all an excellent look at the strands of Korean Buddhism. They can be longer with a bit more free style structure or done in a two day program. That was the program that my friend and I attended one beautiful weekend at Seonunsa Temple.

Seonunsa Temple dates back to the Baekje Kingdom (before the unification of Korea, when the Silla Kingdom conquered them). It was built around 577 C.E, during the reign of one King Wideok. Like every major religion, Buddhism has many, many different sects, and Seonunsa is the temple of the Jogye Order. Master Geomdan was the builder of the temple, and he brought Buddhist teachings to the surrounding area's residents. They were people who weren't exactly making an honest living, and Geomdan brought some practical advice with him as well. He helped the locals cultivate salt, which gave them a way to survive honestly. It was an on-the-ground method to help, and the people are still grateful for it to this day. The temple is not only well known for its Templestay, but also a camellia (a beautiful bright pink flower) forest, which has trees that are around five hundred years old. I didn't get a chance to see the forest in its complete glory, because I went down on a brisk, colourful fall weekend (more on that later).

The journey to the temple was quite an interesting, and not exactly the easiest to find. After an extra detour to meet my friend down in her city, we took a bus to a terminal about an hour away. We then waited there for awhile, before taking yet another bus for a half an hour to the temple(ish) area. It dropped us off at the end of the road that led to the temple, where we needed to walk through a small residential area in order to get to the temple entrance. After signing in, it was then another ten-fifteen minute walk to the temple itself, where we would be spending the majority of our time. All in all, we were roughly an hour later than we were supposed to be, and worried that we would be missing out on the introduction about the Templestay.

As it turns out, that didn’t actually need to be a concern to us. While it was a tad embarrassing to show up later, rushing and out of breath from speed walking for half an hour, we didn’t actually miss much. Despite being marketed as one of the foreigner friendly Templestays, the guide that weekend spoke very limited English. While he was able to give some comments and descriptions throughout the weekend, he wasn’t comfortable enough acting as a full translator. That meant that we weren’t really going to be able to follow along with the presentation about the temple and tour of it after that. While it was a bit disappointing, we were encouraged to do our own tour around the temple, and I was actually okay with that. While I would have liked to have someone there to give some brief information about what I was seeing (I am a big fan of tours, especially working as a tour guide for so many summers), being able to explore at our own pace was appealing as well. So my friend and I got our temple clothes (temple clothes, made of cotton, are provided to be worn over your normal clothes) and off we went.
The temple complex itself isn’t all that big. In fact, it’s easy to do a quick exploration in about twenty minutes, if you’re in some sort of hurry. Thankfully, we weren’t, so we were able to take our time. It was calm and it was quiet, with only a few people milling around as we explored. It was an overcast day, giving everything a kind dulled feel when it came to the overall atmosphere. That wasn't bad, and in fact kind of added to the more serious, somewhat somber feel that I felt about the whole weekend. I was excited, don't get me wrong, but I was also pretty serious about it. This wasn't just a walk through a temple and then I went home. This was me stepping into the world of those Monks who lived and practiced in the temple. Being welcomed into it to learn shouldn't be taken lightly, not when you only plan to be a visitor. So our first day being more subdued than most was actually pretty atmospherically appropriate.

The temple had all the usual trappings- the main worship hall, pagodas, the works. There are also a pretty unique feature, but that's due to the equivalent of audience participation opposed to the temple itself. There are hundreds of small rock piles, small stones stacked precariously on top of another. They seems to look like little almost-pagodas themselves. They are everywhere, in empty spaces. I've heard two stories about these things, and I've had people swear up and down that one over the other is correct. The first story is that if you build one that stays up by itself, you get a wish. The second is that they're meant to attract a mountain god/spirit. This makes a lot of sense, since mountains have always played a huge part in Korean spirtiual histor. Both stories are equally cool, so in my (not expert) mind, I've just decided to combine the two. I mean, asking mountain gods/spirits for wishes makes sense, right?

We finally got to join in with the group come supper time, which was (obviously) a wide array of temple food. A word of warning, though I think it's a fairly well known fact. Buddhist monks don't eat meat of any kind, so anything served in the temple dining hall is vegetarian. This isn't a bad thing, not by far, but the food is also the same fare at all means (breakfast and supper). While I don't mind eating Korean food during the day, I'll admit that my stomach couldn't take the spice early in the morning, so I stuck to the rice. It's also a place where you need to be respectful, because this isn't just for the tourists. This is the temple's dining hall, which means all the people who work at the temple, especially the monks, eat here with you. You don't want to be the jerky, loud visitors, so you talk quietly and pay respect to any monks who happen to pass by. You also have to do your own dishes, which is unfortunate from a I-hate-doing-dishes standpoint, but it really does help you begin to feel the sense of community that living in a communal temple would create.

After supper, the first truly Buddhist temple experience we were able to observe was the evening bell ringing ceremony. The Korean Buddhist bell actually has its own name, and it's called beomjong, and it's considered a wonder of acoustic science. The shape of the bell lets the sound carry for a long ways, leaving it echoing in the silence. The sound it makes is haunting peace, and that's the only word I can think of to describe it. You here this sound, and you know it's something you should stop for. Hearing it be rung in the gathering dusk, with the sky darkening and the sounds disappearing even more into the background, is mesmerizing. This isn't the only time you hear the bell. It's this bell that wakes you up, that calls you to morning ceremonies. It breaks out through the crisp morning air, a deep beat that you'd be able to hear for kilometres. It's the only sound in the stark silence, until you're called close enough to hear the monk chanting with every hit. They strike the bell twenty-eight times, meant to add light into the darkness of the human existence. Listening to it, it almost seems possible that it does open the world for a bit more enlightenment. It's a beautiful sound and a beautiful feeling to stand there around it.

After the bell ringing, it is time for the monks to have their evening chanting ceremony. Since we were there to experience Buddhist life, we joined them. The chanting ceremony takes place in the main hall, which was new and a bit nerve wracking for me. I've never actually gone into the main hall, not when it's so open that you can peek inside without. It always feels weird to me, wandering into somewhere someone is actively worshiping, so I usually just avoid it. This time, however, I wasn't going to stand there like a spectator. I was going to join in. Chanting ceremonies are not just all about the chanting. You don't just sit there, still as a statue, for the whole time. There are certain ways to sit, times when you have to bow in different ways. It's certainly an active ceremony, and we were all given a crash course in the appropriate timing and movements. A lot of it came from trial and error and following along, but I eventually got the hang of it. I'll admit that I worried about not doing it right, but then the chanting started, and it didn't bother me as much. The movements are important, don't let me convince you otherwise, but in my heart of hearts, I'll always believe that it's the heart that needs to follow along attentively, but the body is allowed a few screw up (like not being able to sit in Lotus Position, in my case). It doesn't matter if you don't understand what's being said. It doesn't even matter if you truly believe what it being said. Regardless, you feel it in you, all the way down to your soul. The heavy voice leads the chant, wooden drum keeping time, and you move with it. The rhythm gets into you, and you no longer need to focus completely on your movements. The bows seem to flow easier, even if you're far from mastering how to do them correctly. The ceremony lasted for half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. I got so caught up in following along, that I didn't even realize that that much time had passed. The ceremony the next morning, an exact replica as the one at night, this time it's a bit more surreal, being sleep deprived as well as serene.

Next was probably the psychically hardest I did all weekend (and possibly up there in my whole life, quite frankly). This was the 108 bows. This is pretty big in Korean Buddhism, and is exactly how it sounds: There are 108 bows, and they are not just a simple bending in the middle. You need to bow standing, go to the ground and prostrate yourself, and then start over. It's exhausting, but an important part. It encourages reflection and concentration for the ones doing them (though for me it most encouraged 'Oh please don't give out legs. Breath Nicole' being thought over and over, but I am a novice). It's 108 bows because of the importance of the number (six bodily paths, six ways to suffer, three times to suffer). A monk explained all this to us, but there was a lack of a translator (though my friend spoke enough Korean to at least get the jist of it and whisper it to me). There is chanting in the background, words specifically for the 108 Bows. You're meant to think about the ways you want to change yourself. It was hard, and I am not going to understate that. Something I never need to do again, but I'm so very proud that I managed to finish all 108, no matter how terribly the last twenty or so were done.

The Templestay ends with a hike, which makes sense for a temple in the mountains. It's an easy path, most of it paved and running along a beautiful stream. It was an easy walk, and it only took roughly half an hour to get up, and maybe another twenty minutes to get back down. At the top there's a hermitage (a place for monks to pray), and something even more interesting than that. After taking a relaxing, beautiful walk, you get to see something pretty spectacular at the top. Carved into a cliff face near the hermitage, is a massive Buddha image. It dates back to the Goryeo Dynasty, and it thought to be the Maitreya (Indian) Buddha. It's huge, with elegantly curved outlines and amazing details for something so old. You can see places where it's been worn down by weather, but it's still amazingly preserved. You can make specific features, like the curls that make up the Buddha's hair. It the coolest thing I've seen at a temple here in Korea, and it was a first for me. Statues are awesome, but there was just something about this work of religious reverence that wasn't made to stand outside of natural, but was combined with it. Instead of forcing nature into a design they wanted, they look what nature had left them and worked with that. It's spectacular.

One last detail to leave you with. The Templestay was amazing, the experience wonderful, but that's not what's the thing that stuck in my head and never left, even over a year later. The colours...I'm still a little speechless to describe the fall colours. Never in my life have I seen such vivid oranges, reds and yellows gracing the trees. When the wind picked up and blew leaves off the trees, it was like it was raining large specks of paint. For all that the rest was amazing -the bell ringing in the darkness, the carvings in stone, getting lost in meditation and chants-, it's the memory of standing looking over a stone tiled wall, with the orange leaves falling down around me, lighting up the otherwise dull grey of the sky, that I see when I close my eyes. So I'll leave you with this bit of advice- if you're going to do a Templestay at any mountain temple in Korea, do it in the fall. Go when you can see the colours.
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