Life is a long story

The strongest man in town

Stories of torture and violence are common. Just what is life like for people trafficked into forced online scamming?

Vinh saw himself as the breadwinner.

His duty was to provide for his elderly parents.

And once he had saved enough money, he wanted to marry.

Vinh had grown up and lived in the same town his whole life, an ethnic minority village in south-central Vietnam.

So when he fell on hard times, he didn’t want to travel away for work, but it seemed to be the only option.

Vinh heard of work in northern regions and headed off hoping his fortunes had changed.

As happens so often, Vinh’s quest to find a job resulted in him being trafficked and sold. He was taken to Myanmar, where forced online scamming operations proliferate in the centre of a deadly war zone.

This week, Blue Dragon brought Vinh and two other young men home after a lengthy and complicated rescue operation.

After less than a year in captivity, Vinh returned in a wheelchair.

*Vinh and two other men rescued from Myanmar.*

Torture

All three were tortured and beaten in the compound that enslaved them. Conditions were brutal for all of the ‘workers’, whose job was to scam money online from other Vietnamese-speaking people around the world.

Taking Vinh to his family home in the countryside, his family and community are devastated.

“He was the strongest man in the village,” they told us. Now he cannot stand without assistance and his recovery is far from certain.

*Reunited with his mother, Vinh’s family and community are devastated to learn what happened.*

Shortly after, we rescued a teen girl named Ly from another compound in the same area.

She is 17, but looks so much younger. In one photograph we have of her, taken shortly after she reached safety, Ly is clutching a teddy bear and a doll.

She looks no older than 12.

Ly is physically unharmed but in deep trauma.

Despite now being safe, she’s still in a state of terror. She is yet to disclose what really happened while she was in captivity, but the fear in her eyes tells us all we need to know.

Degrees of trafficking

At times I’ve been criticised for rescuing anyone other than women and girls in sex trafficking.

But the truth is, all human trafficking is horrifying and must be stopped.

There’s an estimated 300,000 people in slavery in scamming operations across Cambodia, Laos and Myanmar. Every one of those people faces the risk of torture, violence, rape and murder on a daily basis.

Refuse to obey the traffickers? That’s a beating.

Failure to meet impossible targets, such as the number of people scammed? That can result in sleep and food deprivation.

Attempt to escape? The consequences can be torture, removal of organs, or even death.

Another young man named Cong, who recently contacted us for help, had part of a finger removed as his punishment for poor ‘performance’.

*Punished by the gangster who run online scamming.*

His crime? He didn’t scam enough people.

Collectively, the world is still trying to grasp this idea of forced online scamming. Are the people locked inside really victims? How bad could it be, working online in a room all day?

Vinh, Ly and Cong give us an answer to this question.

This is why Blue Dragon works so hard to rescue people who call for help. It’s only August and we’ve already rescued more than 170 people this year.

And as we do this, we continue seeking interventions that will stop human trafficking from happening in the first place.

There’s real promise in the solutions we’re developing.

But until human trafficking is a relic of history, there’s so much more to do. The rescue operations must continue.

Blue Dragon Child r en’s Foundation is on a mission to end human trafficking. You can help by joining the Blue Dragon Walk on September 8, no matter where you are.

It’s not what you think

In an age of disinformation, the truth about human trafficking is easily distorted.

When Blue Dragon rescues someone from slavery, we have a practice of announcing the operation on social media as soon as it is safe to do so.

It’s a way of sharing information with our supporters. The people who donate to make our work possible deserve to know what impact their giving has.

Sometimes, however, the response to our posts is different to what we expect.

A recent post announced that we had rescued a young woman from a forced marriage. We went on to say that she would soon be reunited with her family.

That brief comment attracted a curious response, with a significant number of readers demanding to know why we would reunite this woman with the very people who had trafficked her.

The problem is: Her family had nothing to do with it.

In fact, her family has spent years searching for their daughter. They’re ecstatic to have her back.

So why would people blame the parents for what happened to the daughter, when there is no evidence of this?

*Three people rescued from slavery cross back into Vietnam.*

The short answer is that people made an assumption, with no basis in fact.

The longer answer is that, in reality, we do this all the time. We may have once heard a shocking anecdote… Or seen something on TV… Or just had a ‘feeling’…

Armed with this sense that we know about the topic, we give ourselves license to judge others. And then we share that in the public domain of social media.

It’s true that there are stories of parents selling their child, or one sibling selling another.

It does happen. But it is very, very rare.

Statistically, in Vietnam about 3% of trafficking cases involve a close family member, like a parent or sibling.

Another 3% involve a more distant family member, like an aunt or uncle.

That’s it. 94% of known cases do not involve a family member at all. Yet it’s the 6% that shapes public opinion the most.

Misinformation and misconceptions shape what we think of street kids: “They don’t have parents” / “They’re not interested in changing their lives”.

And homeless people: “They get so many handouts by staying on the street”.

And so many other groups of minority and vulnerable people.

There’s a real cruelty in blaming the victims, yet those who do so often start out with good intentions.

Perhaps they’re outraged by a crime and want to see the guilty punished. I understand that.

But we can stand up for justice without jumping to conclusions.

We can be honest with ourselves and realise that the reality is often different to what we think.

Most social problems are far more complex than we wish.

There’s a lot of grey in our world, lying between our simple black-and-white visions of good versus evil.

The best response is to challenge ourselves to see beyond the surface, questioning our assumptions.

Only then can we truly stand with those who need our support the most.

Blue Dragon Child r en’s Foundation is on a mission to end human trafficking.

This beautiful, terrible life

The weekly blog returns with the wonderful highs and terrible lows of a month at Blue Dragon, reminding us that life really is a long story.

It’s been a long month since I last wrote.

My July started with a journey to Europe to farewell Lars Jaeger, a very good friend and a strong supporter of Blue Dragon.

Lars passed away after a three year battle with glioblastoma. He fought all he could, but this form of cancer is particularly cruel with a tragically low survival rate.

Lars’ memory will live long at Blue Dragon.

Much of our support from Switzerland originated with Lars. He and his family have contributed to some important parts of our work, including the establishment of a social enterprise and the employment of a male psychologist.

Vale Lars, a brilliant man with a heart of gold.

Just a few weeks later, an occasion of a very different kind: Blue Dragon staff member Kim Miller swam the English channel.

The challenge of swimming the channel is incredible in itself. Something I learned in the lead up to this: more people have summitted Everest than have swam the channel.

What makes Kim’s swim even more extraordinary is that she only took up ocean swimming as a hobby a few years ago, during Covid lockdowns.

*Kim Miller, somehow still smiling after her Channel swim.*

That’s a remarkably short time to develop the skill needed for a 13 hour swim. But she did it, raising funds to fight human trafficking along the way.

And as always, all the many highs and lows of life at Blue Dragon.

One evening, I received a message from Quang, one of our old boys who works in IT. Attached to his message was a photo of an ultrasound: he and his wife had some great news to share!

Two days later, another message from Quang.

This time, a screenshot of a message from his company. His whole team has been made redundant. Right at the time he needs a stable income, he’s looking for a new job.

Another of the Blue Dragon old boys, Thinh, got into a fight and was arrested soon after.

He’s facing several years in prison, which his actions undoubtedly deserve. But his 5-year-old son – whose mother died several years ago – and the 15-year-old brother he’s been raising are now without the most important person in their lives.

That life is unpredictable and ever-changing is no revelation.

The real challenge is in how we deal with these twists and turns of fate. After all, they are not unique to the Blue Dragon community; none of us knows what joy or sorrow is waiting for us tomorrow.

There’s a Stoic idea that we should prepare ourselves mentally for every possibility, without letting that paralyze us with fear of the future.

Easier said than done, but it’s one of the few ways we can prepare for the highs and lows of this beautiful, terrible life.

And come what may, we keep going. Because life continues and so must we.

Thanks for reading Life Is A Long Story. I’m back to posting weekly and hope you’ll continue following the good work of Blue Dragon Children’s Foundation.

Relentless hope

In the face of endless suffering, how can we keep helping those in need?

People often ask me how I manage to keep going.

Blue Dragon’s work is intense. It’s rare for a day to go by without us receiving a desperate call for help from someone in slavery or meeting a homeless child in a terrible situation.

The numbers tell a slice of the story.

Since the start of this year, we’ve rescued 118 people from slavery: brothels, forced marriages, and forced labor.

In the same time, we’ve helped double that number of street kids – about 240 so far.

It’s only human for the constant exposure to traumatised, terrified people to affect us deeply.

*Meeting children in desperate situations is both traumatising, and what keeps us going.*

And it does. Among the staff of Blue Dragon – the social workers, psychologists, lawyers, counselors – there’s often someone experiencing their own stress or even burnout. On occasion, people need to take time off work or seek professional help to deal with their own emotions and psychological responses.

Both as individuals and as an organisation, we try our best but we have our limits.

Finding the way forward

Taking care of ourselves in the face of constant stress is the only way we can keep going. Being there for each other as a supportive team makes a world of difference. From an organisational point of view, there’s much we can do to provide for staff wellbeing and support people when they need it.

But in the end, the most important thing of all is hope.

We keep going because we believe it makes a difference. It’s worthwhile.

Even when we fail; even when we encounter cases that we’re unable to help; we know there’s still someone else waiting for us who we can help.

Should there come a day that I no longer think my contribution matters, I know I wouldn’t be able to continue.

What drives me – what drives all of us at Blue Dragon, from our frontline staff to our donors and partners around the world – is our relentless hope that our world can be better.

And so, no matter how hard things get, we continue.

Thank you to all who make Blue Dragon’s efforts possible. While our work continues, I’m taking a break from writing the weekly blog during July. I’ll be back with more stories of hope on August 4.

The truth about street kids

Years after coming to Blue Dragon, Long and Giang are leading lives they love. Their success challenges the misconceptions of who street kids really are.

Long and Giang were street kids when I met them.

Both were from provinces near Hanoi and came to the city as teens. They each had loving families at home but were looking for something more: an escape from the hardships of their daily lives.

Their experiences in the city were very different. Giang teamed up with a friend from his hometown and they were on the streets for many months. Long was a street kid for just a short time before he met Blue Dragon. A week later, he was happily home with his parents.

However, calling them “street kids” is a little complicated. It’s a label that summarises a whole set of traumatic childhood experiences, while saying nothing about the person.

Perception and reality

Whenever I speak in public about Blue Dragon’s work, I come across many different views of street kids.

Some people assume that they must be from dysfunctional families; others believe that they’re bad kids who just need some discipline. Of course, some show great sympathy, seeing street kids as victims of family breakdown.

So what’s the truth?

After 20 years of meeting and caring for street kids, I can confidently say this: Street kids are regular young people, no different to anyone else.

I’ve met street kids who are intelligent, ambitious, kind. Some are passionate about sports, or love music, or enjoy hanging out with friends. And yes, I’ve met some who are bad tempered, spend too much time playing online games and get into trouble with the law.

All of which makes them no different to any other teenager.

At the same time, I don’t deny that street kids do have one fundamental difference to others, and that’s their time living without the proper care and protection of a home.

That experience is traumatic for any person. For children who spend time separated from their family – or out on the streets with their family – the trauma of living in danger and poverty can stay with them for a long time. This is why getting help and care to street kids is a matter of urgency. The longer kids are exposed to risk and harm, the harder it will be for them to heal.

The next chapter

Long and Giang have been “street kids,” but their lives are not defined by that experience.

By chance, both Long and Giang – now in their early 20s – caught up with us at Blue Dragon in the past week.

*Long (on the left) catching up with Blue Dragon co-CEO Vi Do.*

Long has started a small business of his own, designing and installing shop interiors. Giang works in Japan, but was back in Vietnam for his engagement ceremony. He’ll be getting married in a few years, and until then will keep working abroad with his fiance.

Neither has forgotten their time on the streets. Both have worked hard to overcome the challenges of their teen years and make something great of their lives.

Being a “street kid” doesn’t have to be a life-defining experience. Because Long and Giang received the right help at the right time, their days on the streets have become a chapter in their lives – not the whole book.

Every child deserves to be safe and protected. Then, as they grow up, they can be the author of their own story and not be defined by any label.

Blue Dragon Child r en’s Foundation is on a mission to end human trafficking. Protecting street kids is a vital part of our work.

Against the odds and the doubters

As a teenage girl, Yen was determined to overcome hardship and get an education. But how could she believe in herself when nobody around her did?

Many people know Blue Dragon for our rescue operations.

In the past year, we’ve rescued over 300 people from slavery. Most were trafficked from Vietnam to neighboring countries and forced to work under threat of violence in guarded compounds. Their stories are haunting.

Every person rescued has a chance to start their life over.

But from day to day, there’s another part of our work that’s equally as important and impactful.

The dream chasers

As an organisation, we don’t want people to “just” be safe. We want every child to have the opportunity to make of their life whatever they choose.

Much of our work involves seeking out young people in hardship or danger, and helping them pursue their dreams. This typically involves a long journey to explore what their dreams are.

Because this year is Blue Dragon’s 20th birthday, we’ve been compiling stories of some of the young people we’ve encountered along the way and writing about where they are now.

Yen’s story is a particularly inspiring one.

A girl on a journey

She was in her early teens when I first met her: a smart, kind girl who took hold of every opportunity to learn.

Like all of the kids we meet at Blue Dragon, Yen had grown up in hardship; she was still in school but it was a struggle. Without a helping hand, she faced a very real risk of dropping out.

More than the lack of money and opportunity was the message she heard from so many around her: Your life will never be better than your parents’ life.

How could she believe in herself when nobody else did?

Today, Yen’s life couldn’t be more different. She lives in Finland, where she works as a civil engineer while raising a family. Nobody could doubt her now.

Against the odds and despite the doubters, Yen found a way to turn her life around. Completing her education was key, but equally important was having people who believed in her.

Yen’s story is shared in full over on the Blue Dragon website. Her journey to a satisfying, successful life was harder than it should have been. And although she got there with help from Blue Dragon and others around her, all of the credit for what she has achieved is hers alone.

Blue Dragon will continue to rescue those who call for help; and we’ll also continue to give kids like Yen the chance to live the great lives they deserve.

Blue Dragon is celebrating 20 years of transforming lives in Vietnam. Read more stories of the lives we’ve changed here.

Ready to receive

Nam was in danger on the city streets. But the offer of help led to some unintended consequences and even greater danger.

I knew he was in danger the first time I saw him.

Nam was begging by the road, in the shadow of a giant statue overlooking one of Hanoi’s many lakes. He was 16 but looked much younger. Many passersby on motorbikes, stopped at the traffic lights, took pity on him and threw money into his outheld cap.

In the blistering heat, dressed in dirty rags, Nam looked pitiful. And his reason for being there was tragic. His mother had died many years ago and his father was brutally violent.

As a beggar, Nam could make good money each day. Even though it was boring and repetitive – and his daily income was dependent on the weather – he felt free. He didn’t have to care about following anybody else’s rules. If things ever got difficult at his begging spot, he could simply go elsewhere and start again.

Nam felt safe, but I knew that he wasn’t.

As a boy out begging on the street, he was extremely vulnerable to gangs, pimps, and traffickers. Many kids just like him had been taken advantage of: used, abused and spat out. Often left with drug addictions, sexually transmitted diseases and physical injuries.

*A boy begging on the city streets. Children working like this are highly vulnerable to harm and exploitation.*

And so I did what I could to help. Over time, I got to know Nam and urged him to accept Blue Dragon’s offer of help.

I persuaded and cajoled. I wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Until finally, Nam relented. He agreed to stay in a Blue Dragon shelter while we helped him move on to training and employment.

Getting Nam to leave the streets was a great success. But it soon turned to disaster.

Nam fought with other kids at the shelter. He stayed out overnight whenever he felt like it and nobody knew when he might return. He sat in the bedroom smoking and swore at the staff when they told him to stop. Nam missed the freedom of the streets and he had never been in a home with clear rules and expectations before.

Nam was safe, but this wasn’t his decision. He had agreed to join the safe house because of my persuasion, not because it was what he really wanted.

A hard lesson

My mistake was one that many of us make at some time.

When you know that someone is endangering themselves… when you can see that they’re going to come to harm but you have no power to intervene… what should you do?

After a few weeks, Nam left the shelter and went back to the streets. As predicted, he met with a lot of trouble and ended up involved in some petty crime. He was lucky that he didn’t go to prison.

Only much later, when he saw for himself the danger he was in, did Nam come back to Blue Dragon. This time, he asked for help. And of course, it was freely given.

This was a powerful learning moment both for Nam and for myself.

Pushing someone to accept help is rarely successful. Helping them see how it might change their life, and keeping the offer open for when they are ready, is sometimes the only way.

But it’s a hard lesson to learn.

Blue Dragon Child r en’s Foundation is on a mission to end human trafficking.

The best remedy: Nothing at all

Knowing when to help – and when to not – is part of the job for non-profit leaders.

When I was at high school, I had a geography teacher named Mrs Ratinac.

One day, our lesson was on how humans inadvertently make things worse when we try to improve on nature.

Cane toads were introduced to Australia in the 1930s to manage insects and other pests. Instead, swarms of them have harmed native wildlife and destroyed crops.

In more recent times, hydroelectric dams have been built to reduce reliance on fossil fuels. Their impact has been to alter water supplies, destroy fish populations, and displace communities.

“Sometimes,” Mrs Ratinac said, “the best thing to do is nothing at all.”

As the founder of a charity that aims to make life better for people living in hardship, this is a lesson that I find both difficult and very important to remember.

When should we intervene? When should we not? Whatever we choose, there are consequences.

Here in Hanoi, there are informal groups around the city who get together to dance. They meet in public spaces like parks and community buildings.

Some years ago, I learned that a few of the Blue Dragon kids were dancing in the evenings outside a government building that has a long, uninterrupted covered space.

I went to see this for myself. Our kids were part of a teenage hiphop dance club. A few meters further along, there were elderly people practising ballroom dancing. Just past them were some girls dancing to K-Pop.

Each group had their own music playing and had set up in such a way to respect the space of everyone else. In a country such as Vietnam, where public spaces (like roads and footpaths) often seem totally chaotic, I marveled at the self-organizing nature of this.

*The Blue Dragon kids love their hip hop.*

There was nobody in charge and no lists of rules. Each group just set up spontaneously and got on with their dancing. And it all worked in total harmony.

Then my NGO-brain kicked into gear.

These kids who were hip-hop dancing: Blue Dragon could support them. We could easily get them a supply of snacks and drinks for while they’re practising. Maybe even help them get a better speaker for their music. And do any of them need to buy proper dance shoes?

But then Mrs Ratinac’s lesson came back to me.

These kids were fully independent and self-organizing. They not only didn’t need help; they were a model for others of what teens are capable of on their own.

Were I to get involved, I’d be taking away from what they were achieving. I’d be creating a dependency when none was needed.

There’s a time and place to help; knowing when, and when not, to get involved requires wisdom.

So I did nothing. Just watched. And marveled at the creativity of these amazing kids.

Thanks for reading Life Is A Long Story. Make sure you’re following Blue Dragon on LinkedIn and Facebook for more great stories.

Tides of change

This week, Blue Dragon’s Kim Miller writes a guest post for Life Is A Long Story. Her journey – and the challenge before her – are an example of true courage.

By my desk sits a postcard that starts with the words: ‘Pick the path that lights you up.’

I’ve come to believe that happiness and fulfillment, the ‘light’, doesn’t arrive in neat packages of peace and contentment.

Rather, I feel most alive and alight in the moments of grit; when I’m being challenged, when I’m working towards something new, and when I can see a way forward that’s possible, but not necessarily a given, that it will be successful.

Since 2014 I’ve felt that feeling of fulfillment most through my work with Blue Dragon.

Every person on our team inspires me in their own way and makes me want to be a better person.

I’ve seen the worst of what can happen when vulnerable young people are left to fend for themselves. I’ve also seen the powerful impact that a single person can have when they provide the care and scaffolding needed to support a young person to go from surviving to thriving.

And the power of us working together to create the sort of change needed to do something as momentous as ending human trafficking? Unstoppable!

In 2020, yes mid-pandemic, I left Vietnam, where I was living, to return home to Australia. I still work for Blue Dragon, but I commenced a new hybrid role working mostly remotely from Sydney.

I felt joyful to be closer to my Australian family and friends and I was excited about the impact I could have for Blue Dragon by collaborating alongside our Australian supporters… But I was left with a Blue Dragon sized hole in my heart from the absence of living and working at the epicentre of the action.

In time, I learned to (mostly) fill that hole with ocean swimming (combined with semi-regular trips back to my Hanoi home).

Only in the ocean do I find the same level of immersion, challenge, perseverance, mindfulness and grit that I feel through my work.

*Qualifying for the English Channel swim involves spending long hours in frigid waters to prepare for the gruelling conditions in reality.*

So what better way to combine these two passions than to use my passion for swimming to keep vulnerable young people safe from human trafficking?

This July, I’ll swim 34 kilometres across the frigid water of the English Channel for Blue Dragon. I’m aiming to raise $200,000 AU, which is enough to protect 70,000 people from the horrors of human trafficking. Right now, I’m close to halfway towards that goal.

And when the swimming gets tough, as I know it will, I won’t stop, because it’s such a privilege to be able to choose our challenges in life – a privilege that victims of slavery and human trafficking aren’t afforded by the people who exploit them.

I want every stroke and action I take in life to bring someone else a little closer to that same freedom.

You can donate to Kim’s Big Blue English Channel Swim here; and you can follow her blog, LinkedIn, Facebook and Instagram or email: kim@bdcf.org.

Starts here, continues there.

Alone in the shadows, San had no idea how he would survive. A chance encounter changed that; but his story is far from over.

San was sitting alone, just out of the glare of the streetlight.

Blue Dragon’s social workers are trained to spot street kids among a crowd. But San was easy to identify: sitting in the shadows, his shoulders slumped, a backpack by his feet.

Hai, the social worker, has an easy going nature. Kids instinctively trust him. He pulled his motorbike over, introduced himself to San, and within minutes they were chatting away like old friends.

*Social worker Hai, on the ground, chats with 14-year-old San.*

With some street kids, it’s hard to build trust. San, however, was different. He’d only recently come to the city and very quickly realised that he had walked into a terrible situation. He just wished he could go home, but he didn’t have the few dollars needed for the bus fare.

San is 14 and from the northern mountains of Vietnam. He and one of his younger brothers have already dropped out of school. His youngest brother, in Grade 4 now, doesn’t plan to go back after the coming summer holiday.

A familiar story

Their family story follows a pattern we hear all the time.

Dad was in an accident and now suffers from poor health. He drowns his sorrows with rice wine and then quarrels with his kids. Their studies have suffered and they just don’t see much reason to keep going with their education.

Finally, San decided to head to the city and look for a job. At last that way, he could send money home for his parents to survive and he would avoid arguing with his father.

But the dream of going to the big city and earning money is just an illusion for young people from the countryside. They leave home hoping to find paid employment, but in reality there are few jobs to be found for young, untrained workers. It’s much more likely that the kids will be tricked and exploited.

And so San found himself homeless, broke and hopeless. Until he met Hai.

Where to from here

San stayed at the Blue Dragon shelter a few days to catch up on sleep and food. Then he was ready for the long journey home.

When Blue Dragon reunites young people with their families – whether they’re street kids or survivors of human trafficking – we don’t just put them on a bus and wave them off.

A couple of social workers get on that bus with them and travel with the child. These journeys can take a couple of days in each direction, so they are a significant investment of time and resources. And they are always worthwhile.

It’s only when we meet the family ourselves, talk to the community leaders, and go visit the child’s school, that we can fully understand how to help.

*San and a Blue Dragon social worker walking home.*

And when all the key people in the child’s life know us, it’s a lot easier to get things done.

Through long discussions over shared meals, the Blue Dragon staff learned about the challenges that San and his family are facing.

They have critically little income – so we will help with some money for a few months to see them through. While we do that, we’ll work with the community to buy a few farm animals that San’s parents can raise to begin earning their own money.

San’s school teacher advised that he will need to reapply to go back to study, but knowing what he’s been through, she was very supportive and we’re confident he will be back in class shortly.

And on it goes

So is that ‘happily ever after’?

No. They take a bit longer than a week!

Helping San, his brothers and their parents will take sustained effort over the coming years. They might not need very much help from Blue Dragon, because they have a supportive community around them who is ready to help now that they understand the situation.

We will stay in touch over the phone. We’ll check in with San’s teacher from time to time. And San knows that, should he want to leave home again, he can call us to discuss or ask for help.

With just this effort, San is no longer in danger of trafficking and exploitation on the city streets and his whole family has hope for the future.

But this story isn’t over. It started on the streets and it continues in a remote village, high up in the mountains.

Whatever happens next, Blue Dragon stands ready to help however we can.

The good work of Blue Dragon Children’s Foundation is possible only because of our amazing supporters around the world. Thank you to all who donate, volunteer, and cheer us along. Without you, San’s outlook would be very different.