Tsy Vazah Aho!

Given that my last post was such a dense jumble of thoughts, I thought I would keep this simple by offering a string of questionably relevant ideas and commentary on my recent adventures:

1) For the past few days we have consistently lost a member of our group to some sort of mysterious condition with unknown symptoms (so far it could be a cold, stomach or flu sickness). Our program director likes to cheerfully remind us that we will certainly all be ill soon enough, and that we shouldn’t panic when we inevitably find ourselves incapacitated. Every time he reminds us of this fact we all start to experience phantom stomach pains caused by an onslaught of paranoia. Quite frankly we are dropping like flies.

2) I am utterly incapable of walking like a normal person up stairs. In order to most easily describe my journey to our classroom in a neighborhood called Isorak, you have to picture my house at the bottom of a very large hill (or more fittingly, a petite mountain) and our classroom on the summit. The two are connected by a rather steep combination of alleyways, streets and staircases that are a bit strenuous, especially in Tana’s humid weather. Every morning, I walk past the seemingly endless rows of Malagasy people who stare at me, sometimes calling out “Bonjour Vazah!” (“hello white person!”) until I reach a massive set of stairs that bring me up several hundred feet in elevation to the level of my class. Unfortunately, I have tripped and fallen on these stairs every single day since I moved in with my family. Today, I tripped twice. The question remains as to whether I am exceedingly challenged, or the stairs are exceedingly uneven.

3) Yesterday, while waiting outside of a pharmacie with a friend, we were approached by a tiny blonde woman who exclaimed “I never hear that accent! Are you from the United States?!” As it turns out, the women who approached us is an SIT alum who did the exact same program that I am in now and who received a Fullbright scholarship after graduating college. Apparently, Madagascar is so obscure that people from the US don’t come here, hence her surprise. Instead, I would like to introduce you to the people who do come here: the “Adventure French”. The Adventure French is the most commonly found foreigner in Tana, usually wearing some rather chic but grizzled looking clothes, and accompanied by a young Malagasy women. They are usually middle aged men and can generally be spotted either smoking a cigarette at a fancy café or riding a moped at unnecessarily high speeds.

4) Roughly half of my program (okay, I exaggerate) is made up of learning complicated and occasionally embarrassing Malagasy dances. At least once a week, this week two days in a row, well known music groups come to perform for us and teach us how to dance. Yesterday, the fiercest 4’ 10” woman I have ever met came and told us Malagasy fairytales, followed by a dance lesson where she took a lot of joy in going around the room and telling each of us what we were doing wrong. Apparently, I am slightly arrhythmic and am incapable of moving my hands the correct way. Today, a Sakalava dance group from the north came and led us in more dance where at one point I was pulled into the middle of a circle as one of the dancers wildly shimmed in front of me. It was enough to make me blush to say the least.

5) I am finally going to get to see a real, live lemur! Starting Tuesday, our whole group is packing our bags and heading to Andsibe National Park followed by the coastal town of Vatromandry. Our 4 day trip includes a guided tour of the park where we will get to visit lemurs and some other exciting critters, before we take off to enjoy having class near the beach for a few days. The trip will be a nice break from the urbanity of Tana, and it just reminds me how lucky I am to be participating in a program that allows me to experience this country in such a comprehensive and meaningful way!

To wrap up, my trip feels like it is going so fast, and I know that before I know it I am going to be wrapping up my research project and heading home. While walking to lunch today, I was talking to friends about how crazy it is that this is school. Our courses are by no means easy, especially because so much is conducted in French, but this really has made Madagascar an even more exciting destination. We don’t have textbooks because when we have a question about the Malagasy, we just ask them. A standard program, in my opinion, just wouldn’t have worked in a place like this. There is no way to describe how impactful experiences are to understanding, but I feel like in recognizing that, I also have to recognize that learning in this manner is at the height of what it means to be privileged. Especially in countries that struggle like Madagascar does, it becomes even clearer that I am privileged in ways that the majority of people in the world don’t even imagine. I don’t think anyone has the answer to what the implications of that reality are at this point, but out of everything here I think that is what challenges me most.

As always, I wish everyone at home and abroad well, and must now say Valoma!