she says what she means

June 8

Today is crazy. We have no real schedule, but we’re leaving for the field tomorrow, so we have to organize our crap and buy our provisions. We each bought few kilos of rice and beans, and last night we split up all of our cans and such remaining from that blurry grocery run in Farafangana. We all bought peanuts too, and the air is thick with peanut oil as everyone “roasts” them in pots in the backyard. My lungs are coated.

organizing backpacks (and rice bags full of food!) at the office

Oh! Today the Journée Mondiale de l’Environnement celebrations continued with a legendary soccer game, in which a team of WWF folks (including Ryan and Charles – but no girls allowed) battled public service stars such as doctors and teachers. Almost everyone was barefoot or wearing kiranis (those jelly shoes that I may have mentioned earlier), with the exception of Dr. Dina, of course, who stood out with cleats and shin pads. Ryan earned mad respect from the village by scoring a huge goal. I think he is officially integrated.

opening the game, WWF in blue

We ordered dinner from Mme. Seing tonight… amazing! Peking duck and vegetables and rice and yum.

yes, the peking duck was so lovely that we wanted to document it

June 10

We left Vondrozo yesterday, way behind schedule, to bike the 30km to Ambohimana, where we were to leave our bikes and continue on foot to Tsaratanana. We struggled the whole way, since the road is ridiculous and the Explore program bikes are absolutely useless (ie. no brakes, perma-stuck between gears, Manora almost died, etc.). The route was beautiful though, and we got another chance to cross the bridge of death, this time on foot, with bicycles! Yikes.

shortly before Ryan fell through the cracks... not.

We didn’t make it to Ambohimana though, as it was getting dark and the thought of brakelessly cycling in pitch darkness did not appeal to us after a day of sweating. We spent the night in Mahazoarivo, setting up our tents in the very centre of the village square! So weird. We ate rice and greens with the porters (weird because they gave us a table and chairs, and they sat on the floor) and called it a night.

Jamila looking chipper on the road

greeting us outside our tents in the morning in Mahazoarivo

Today my ass is beyond sore from the bike seat (note to WWF: I will not include this information in my official reports) and we have another 7km or so to bike to Ambohimana, which I’m really looking forward to, as you can imagine. Time to put away our little canvas tent. It looks like rain.

…………………………………………….

arriving in Tsaratanana

We made it to Tsaratanana, with several river crossings and muddy splashes to toughen us up along the way. This village is TINY, and they were totally spellbound watching us set up our tents – imagine, such technology! They cleared out a house for us and we sat down, which was totally welcome after all the moving we’ve been doing. Robson massaged Manora’s sprained ankle with some kind of grass that he boiled, and she grimaced through the whole thing. I hope it works, or that would be a weird and cruel sort of joke.

a really harsh (mais efficace!) massage

We chilled and ate the banana cake that we bought (after much debate with the woman selling it – she was a monster) along the way in Ambohimana, and Robson dealt with a live chicken that was given to us by the village. We discussed the vegetarian thing at dinner, and how I had kind of expected to eat meat while in Madagascar, especially in situations like this. It’s so wonderfully generous for them to give us these gifts, and I want to be a gracious guest, so I ate a few bits. Even Ryan ate some, actually. The experience was so surreal though. We sat in the hut, in the glow of candlelight, eating an animal that had been clucking in the corner a few hours earlier. It was sort of overwhelming; I felt so grateful for so many things. After dinner, we sat, drinking our ranomapongo (rice water) and listened to the singing coming from outside.

it's really fun to watch me silently write

We couldn’t bear to stay inside though, so we ventured out into the silvery moonlight to watch the dozens of young people dancing between the houses. One boy played a drum (an overturned bucket) with spoons, while another blew a whistle and everyone else sang. They danced around in a circle and at certain points in the song, a group of girls would go into the centre to do this crazy move that looks like a seizure – they convulsed and their eyes rolled back in their heads. We sort of joined in for a few minutes, but we sort of realized that they weren’t doing it for us, they were just dancing because they enjoyed it. So we stood on the sidelines and had our minds blown. The milky way was unbelievably clear, and the moon was so bright that we didn’t need our lights at all. I totally had a moment that almost brought tears to my eyes. I can’t believe this is my life. (Note: I tried to upload a sound file of the music, but I’m slightly incompetent and couldn’t make it work. I’ll see what I can do.)

June 13

Manora, at the top of an enormous hill, overlooking the valley between Tsaratanana and the area where we were zoning

Zoning = hiking straight up dangerous landslides, falling when I get so tired that I’m light-headed, sweating buckets, Jamila accidentally swimming in rice paddies, getting really dirty, and several domatiky (leeches).

Camp = me almost passing out, puking directly outside the tent and not being able to eat dinner, sleeping, Manora puking, more leeches, dehydration, muscle twitches from electrolyte loss, diarrhea all around.

our feet, mangled by thorns, shoes, mud, leeches and pebbles

Awesome. I’m actually managing to eat a cookie right now, but it’s been a few days since I’ve eaten. I think it must have been something from water that wasn’t boiled all the way, or something. I feel like ass, but much better than I have been, though I can’t say the same for Manora. My body is still adamantly saying no to rice and beans, which means… I don’t eat. I can’t. Our campsite tonight is a weird abandoned hut on an island in the middle of a swamp..? People aren’t allowed to live in this zone anymore, so they had to just pack up and leave, I guess.

camp, in someone's former back yard

Let me explain zoning a little, though. I only did one day of it, but I was with Manora and Jamila, following Augustin around, occasionally reading GPS points and recording them when we marked the appropriate places in the forest. Ryan was with Robson, marking the line between the zones of rehabilitation and utilization. (Robson is a wily little guy and walks extremely fast, so only Ryan could handle it. We were alright with this.) Since we got sick, Manora and I just walk with the porters to the next campsite, which isn’t really much easier. It’s really important work, but Manora and I are just running to keep up and trying not to throw up, and it’s hard for me to be enthusiastic after such a long fast and so much desperate uphill scrambling. And the thorns, oh the thorns! I have never seen such asshole plants in all my life. They rip my skin and clothes, and the terrain is always steep incline or decline, so you really want to grab the plants to stop yourself from sliding all the way down, but they have self-defense in the form of sturdy little daggers.

my legs (pre-tan, as we hadn't yet hit the beach), with thorn-induced battle scars

But even in my dazed, cranky state, every once in a while we’d come over a ridge and I’d have to smile. It’s so beautiful.

June 14

Today we did the last 700m of zoning, which was really an hour trudge through a swamp. (Helloooo schistosomes!) At one point, Manora fell in up to her waist! But we were in high spirits, laughing as we squelched through the razorblade grass. The hike back to Tsaratanana was only about 5km as the crow flies, but it took us all day because of the ups and downs and twists and turns.

on the way back to Tsaratanana

And, unfortunately, Manora took an awkward step and re-sprained her ankle. This time she was absolutely in tears, and I felt awful because we were, unavoidably, a 5km hike from the village. She got a walking stick (the Gandalf cracks ensued) and one of the porters, the son of a traditional healer, gave her another excruciating massage – this time lubricated with his saliva. She said that it was really effective, though, and made it back to the village with a smile on her face.

traditional spit massage on a mountaintop

Gandalf

The four of us have been having a really great time together, although Manora and I have been borderline hermits since we fell ill, and Ryan and Jamila have had to discuss “panarchy” without my snide jokes and the smell of Manora’s Tiger Balm. In other news, Manora was at the river tonight, washing some clothes, and when it started to get dark, Augustin and the Coba president went to retrieve her – it’s far too dangerous beside the river at night, what with all the caymans and demons. I love this country.

June 1

Last night we went to a “ball” hosted by the Lycée (a.k.a. a high school dance). It was fun, but really sort of awkward since we’re still new and everyone just wanted to look at us all night. The music is pretty cheesy, but it’s fun to watch them dance. They sort of remind me of a swarm of bees, kilalaky-ing around in a circle. (Note: PLEASE look up “kilalaky” on YouTube and watch some of the music videos. This dance is way harder than it looks.) Mostly we just tried not to get groped, although, for the most part, everyone was on his best behavior. The highlight was when Aurore danced with the caricature-like Dr. Dina and he told her that she doesn’t know how to use her hips properly. Bah!

downtown Vondrozo

Today is Sunday, and there’s lovely singing coming from the church – a nice change from the loud pop music that screamed out of the dance until 6 this morning. It also means that the power is on from 11am until this evening, so I might even try to call home on the payphone up the street (the only phone in the village, as far as I’ve heard). In other news, last night, while attempting to unscrew the outer casing of the video camera with a teeny little screwdriver, I got over-excited and stabbed my thumb with it. It was pretty deep and it bled for a long time, so I’m just trying to keep it covered and not get it wet… Gross. It’s also kind of numb… curious.

We were invited to a theatre presentation this afternoon at the church, which was about two hours too long, but it was a really cool experience. We sat front-and-centre, and kids pushed each other out of the way to try to sit next to us. We took some photos, which was really exciting for them, since they rarely (if ever) see digital cameras, and it’s really thrilling for them to see themselves appear instantly on the screen. They all cover their smiles with their hands and say “ohhhhhh!!!” It’s really adorable.

kids at the church

some of the performers

Our neighbours are getting to be a bit annoying already. They are really sweet kids, but they’re completely fascinated by everything we do, and they’ve all learned our names, so I’m constantly hearing creepy-ish little voices saying “Lizzz”. But Clauthilde, their mother, is really sweet, and baked us a cake, which was a glorious treat. One of the other ladies really freaked us out by holding out her baby and seriously asking Silvia to take it back home with her, saying that it was under-nourished and deserved a better chance, and so on. Silvia was really upset by it, and isn’t keen to spend any more time doing dishes out in the back. Unfortunately, it’s the only place to do them, but it’s six feet (max) from the fence, behind which is a constant flock of curious women and children.

our neighbours! (and yes, this is how close they are to the fence ALL THE TIME)

me and Jamila, washing dishes

June 2

Scorpion in the room!! Only about an inch long, but apparently they’re not the kind of friends you want in your bed.

scorpion!

Gross. Today was market day in Vondrozo, which was sort of crowded and overwhelming, especially since most of those coming in from neighbouring villages hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of us, and took it upon themselves to crowd us all throughout the stalls. But then Mme. Victorine took us up to the top of the hill, inside the hospital boundaries, to check out the view. It’s really incredible; we could see the village and the hills beyond. And, as an added bonus, it’s super quiet up there, since no one would follow us into the hospital. So I’m hoping to go up there soon to do some yoga and unwind.

view from the hospital!

We went to the Lycée this afternoon too, to give a little presentation to the oldest classes and answer questions about our home countries, conservation and our projects. Mostly, they were enthralled by our descriptions of moose and beavers. (It’s like a giant RAT? With a flat tail? It builds DAMS??!) Their enthusiasm was wonderful though, and they took down our addresses and stuff – maybe I’ve acquired some new pen pals.

June 5

Dad’s birthday! Unfortunately, the line for the payphone is far too long. I’m sure he’ll understand.

my entourage, accompanying me to the phone at the post office

We spent the day working on our presentation for World Environment Day, which should be quite hilarious. It involves a game called “pin the tree on the tavy”, if that gives you any idea of its maturity level. BUT there will definitely be many kids, so I’m sure it’ll go over well.

I had a hard time working in the office with all these cute faces sticking in the windows all the time.

There are also some strange vazahas in town! From La Reunion. They’re sort of pervy men who have taken six months off from their regular lives to walk Madagascar from South to North. It’s a pretty fabulous journey, but they’ve been in the woods for far too long, and they did not behave entirely honourably when we had a beer with them this evening.

Manora, featuring some props from our presentation for Journée Mondiale de l'Environnement

June 7

Today is World Environment Day! It’s been totally impressive, actually. There was a “marathon” this morning – Ryan ran 11km and Jamila ran 5km, and though they’re both super athletes, they were no match for the raw barefoot power of the locals. There were speeches and songs and presentations on a big stage in the middle of town, which drew a huge crowd. Unfortunately, most of the crowd was turned the wrong way in order to look at us, but the energy was great nonetheless.

Charles drawing a crowd

...note the stage BEHIND the kids.

We did our presentation this evening as well, which was a big success, we think, though we left feeling overwhelmed and sort of confused. One of the questions posed to us was something along the lines of, “If we can’t practice slash and burn anymore, how do we feed our families? What alternatives are you giving us?” We were wondering the same thing. This should be interesting…

May 25

Today we spent nine hours on the road, making the move from Tana to Fianarantsoa. Luckily, it was incredibly scenic, and luckily, I am not the type to get car-sick, as it was mostly high-speed hairpin turns through the mountains. Our driver, Kosa, is incredible though, and the Land Rover has impressed me with its tank-like determination. The miles between Tana and Fianar were really beautiful, and over the nine hours, it changed from sort of barren greenish grassy hills to lush green foothills with enormous gray (volcanic?) rocks scattered over them, and closer to Fianar it was full of P.E.I.-reminiscent red rocks through the mountains.

The thing that struck me most was the enormous number of people walking on the side of the highway all the time. But it makes sense, since no one here has a vehicle, and there is really only one road. The colours of their clothes were incredible though: fluorescent pink, orange and green, and the same fabrics recurring all along the journey, in different incarnations. And I can’t imagine that it’s easy to carry a bundle the size of an ottoman on top of your head for that many miles. Maybe that’s a skill I’ll acquire…

Between Tana and Fianarantsoa: terraced rice paddies, and the usual gaggle of kids gawking at the vazahas

May 26

More driving! From Fianarantsoa to Farafangana – another nine hours or so. The road got pretty exciting towards the end, with giant red, muddy potholes. It felt like the Land Rover was really in its element. We stopped along the way in Ranomafana National Park to have a look around the town of Ranomafana, which is really in the rainforest. We wandered around a gorgeous little hotel, where we may end up staying when we stop in the park for a few days in August. It was about a dozen tiny thatched-roof bungalows along the river, with orchids of every colour lining the paths. Keeping my fingers crossed for that one…

Our meals, so far, have been weirdly silent, probably because we just don’t know each other well enough to make great conversation yet. I’m also a bit weary about the French thing… it’s been quite a while, and I’m sort of feeling a bit over my head. But I’ll figure it out. I did learn today, though, that it’s a total cultural no-no to make faces at kids (sticking out your tongue and so on), which explains why the kids have looked at me in horror when I’ve been trying to make friends with them over the past few days. Oops…

another awkward, quiet lunch on the road

pousse-pousses in Manakara, hoping to make some serious money from the vazahas

orchids in Ranomafana

May 27

Today we made the trek from Farafangana to Vondrozo. The day began with an incredible breakfast of the butteriest, flakiest pastries that I’ve ever tasted, at a little bakery called Le Croustillant. (If you are ever in Farafangana, you MUST go. You won’t believe what this woman can do with such limited ingredients.) We spent a few hours at the WWF office in Farafangana, listening to Marlin (the boss) talk about the project, the forst corridor, and our activities therein. The office, I can tell you, is nothing like the WWF offices in Toronto! It’s a bungalow with pink walls (frequently crawled upon by a family of geckos), beautiful carved wooden doors, usually left open with just lacy curtains ruffling in the breeze, and overflowing pots of flowers everywhere.

WWF office in Farafangana

We went to do our grocery shopping for the next month, as they tell us that there isn’t much in the way of shopping in Vondrozo, and we need to eat! It took some planning, since we had no idea what would actually be available and we needed to consider that we’d be spending two weeks of the month out in the field doing zoning work. I was feeling really off and started seeing spots, so I sat down on a stack of rice bags in the crowded store and tried not to faint. (I was revived by drinking a bottle of Coca-Cola – the universal fix-all – so I think I must just have had low blood sugar or something.) But the provisionnement was completed, and we left with big boxes containing lots of spaghetti, Vache Qui Rit, cookies, and cans of tomato paste, corn, and tuna. The rice and beans will be taken care of once we get to Vondrozo – Marlin says the rice is better there. We each spent about 100 000 Ariary on the groceries, which amounts to about 40 Euros. For a month!

buying our provisions in Farafangana

Before heading out of town, we stopped at the beach in Farafangana, and it is INCREDIBLE. I’m hoping that we can stay out there for my birthday week…

the beach in Farafangana!

We arrived in Vondrozo after dark, so the last hour or so in the Land Rover felt like riding on a mechanical bull while blindfolded. The road was a complete disaster. In fact, “road” seems a little too generous a name for such a landslide. (Again, I am glad that the car-sick genes are absent in Johnsons.) When we pulled up outside “Chez Mme. Seing” in Vondrozo, we made a scramble to get our bags inside as quickly as possible, as we were completely exhausted and overwhelmed by the huge crowd who had gathered around our vehicles to watch us unpack and laugh at us. (Editor’s note: Being laughed at is something to which I have become entirely desensitized over the past few months. Vazahas are hilarious. I get it.) We’ll meet them all tomorrow, I’m sure…

a boa (in a post-dinner comatose state) on the road near Vondrozo

May 28

We started our day with a hilarious (but now quite expected) breakfast of Vache Qui Rit and jam on melba toasts. It is fun sitting around our little kitchen table eating together, though. The words are flowing much more easily between us now. The water only works sometimes (and we’ve yet to figure out the hours, or even if there are specific hours), and the village has electricity between 5pm and 11pm, which means that the single lightbulb in each of our rooms actually works! Jour de fête.

We had our first Malagache lessons today, with Madame Victorine, the French teacher at the school. It was totally disorganized and confusing, but exciting to think that maybe by the end of these few months, I’ll actually know a dozen words or so. We also met Ryan, a (super cute) Peace Corps volunteer from California who is living here for TWO YEARS (!) and will be working with our group for the summer. This means that we have suddenly switched from French to English in casual conversation, which is a) awesome and b) terrible, since I need all the practice I can get.

Mme. Victorine

we look attentive, but very little absorption is occurring, I can assure you

May 29

The “jour officiel”. Today we visited the villages of Manambidala and Mahazoarivo to meet the mayors and introduce ourselves, since we’ll be working in their communities. Basically, we drove on some more truly unbelievable roads, but with all eleven of our flock in the same Land Rover, and sat awkwardly in offices while official-sounding Malagache conversations flew over our heads. But the villages were beautiful, and we got to cross a pretty frightening barge with the Land Rover – it looked (to my Canadian eye) like three rusty rowboats with planks across the gunwhales, propelled across the river by a single man pulling us along a rope. Actually, no. I think that’s a pretty accurate description. It was awesome.

waiting for the barge

crossing the river near Mahazoarivo

our first encounter with the "bridge of death", which you have to construct as you cross it by moving logs from behind the truck to fill the gaps in front of it

at the mayor's office in Mahazoarivo

I also had my first Chez Mme. Seing shower today, which means standing in a tiled shower stall (which is actually pretty sweet) and dumping cold water from a barrel over my head with a cup. Next mission: remember to boil water next time so that I won’t feel numb at the end.