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Mada Update #2
Eva Colberg
October 16, 2014
Bear with me (or just look at the photos), as this is fairly
long.
This is the landscape of southern Madagascar; with spiny thickets and tombs galore. |
Most of us agreed that Faux Cap was one of the most
challenging experiences; we were divided into pairs to stay in small villages
within the same commune, each with a Malagasy student from our partner school
as translator. I was extremely lucky to have a good translator, minimal
fleabites and no illnesses during my stay, as well as a wise host mother who
could sense when we were uncomfortable and then found ways to alleviate it.
Fortunately, I enjoy singing and dancing and eating sweet potatoes, because we
did a lot of that. Sure, we had time to practice rural appraisal methods and
learn about the food security of the area, but over the course of the week I
also ate the fruit of the raketa cactus, took bucket showers under the
sky behind a wall of sisal (Sisal is a spiky plant commonly found in but not endemic to the landscape of Southern Madagascar. Agave sisalana is
commercially grown (more so in the past, but still a bit today) in
Madagascar for its tough fibers, which an be used for twine and carpets
among other things. - Eva), crowded into a one-room house with 20 other people,
planted corn, and spent at least an hour every night dancing with the entire
village in the traditional Atandrôy style.
Our Faux Cap host family tressed my hair in their traditional style and we all danced together for the farewell celebration. |
After a week that was far too short back in Fort Dauphin, it was time to say goodbye to our host families and move north. |
I never realized how privileged we are to have seatbelts,
personal space, and paved roads in the States, but despite the absence of those
three qualities I am now a master of finding comfort in a camion-brousse.
We spent the past week camping in front of la StationOcéanographique de Vangaindrano, where we studied coastal ecology and
natural resource use within the surrounding community. I thus now have a much
better understanding of rice farming, which is widely practiced in this region.
Most of the people we talked to were poorer farmers who only own a few fields,
and thus can’t let anything fallow for rejuvenation and better future
growth. It seems like a vicious cycle where only those who are already
well off can afford the more efficient techniques, but they manage to survive.
On the road after Vangaindrano, we had two forest walks: one
at Mahabo, a community-managed multiple-use littoral forest (Missouri Botanical Garden's work in littoral forests -Amanda W.), where I found
another orchid in bloom (pictured left); and the other through a low-altitude rainforest
populated with palms, mangroves (Conservations efforts -Amanda W.), and epiphytes. Ducking under vines and
adventitious roots makes any hike feel more adventurous, especially when you
also find chameleons and snakes and bright red millipedes!
I’m currently writing this from Manakara, in my host
family’s house. They don’t have Internet or a flushing toilet, and nobody has
their own room, but they do have a large house, electricity, and running water,
so they’re fairly well off in terms of Malagasy homes. They’re also
incredibly friendly and have emphasized the fact that this is a learning
experience from the start; four of them speak French, but they all make an
effort to teach me Malagasy and find traditional foods for me to try. This
involves a lot of rice flour bread products, fresh fruit juices, and sugary
treats.
We've also seen a fair amount of tragedy. My host sister
took me to the beach, and right as we arrived a swarm of people was making its
way from the water, surrounding the body of a young boy who had just been taken
out to sea. They at first thought he was drowned, but he started breathing
again. Because no doctors work on weekends, though, he still didn't make it,
and ended up dying anyways. It is sometimes difficult to face all the
depressing facts about poverty, inadequate governance, and the destruction of
nature in Madagascar, but at the same time there is so much joy in all the
people; everyone greets each other on the streets, and they are especially
delighted when vazaha such as myself and my fellow students respond in
not only Malagasy but their own dialect. Even when a Malagasy song is talking
about a sad subject, it still unfolds in a cheerful key and tempo. Every day
brings new happiness no matter what hardships happen.
Veloma!
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