Do They Know It's Christmas Time At All?

In a word, yes.

When I was applying for the Peace Corps, a friend of mine wrote a recommendation for me. When she found out I would be heading to Africa, she told me I had to find out if "they knew it was Christmastime" in Africa. BandAid had long ago posed the question, and I was to answer it. Even though I ended up in Madgascar, which is only barely a part of Africa (the local people do not like to be called Africans, and see themselves as separate, so much so that a history of the island I read said that upon independence, Madagascar refused to join Pan African groups unless the name was changed from "(Generic Organization) of Africa" to "(Generic Organization) of Africa and Madagascar), I found out that they do know. Christmas is a big deal here, in a religious sense. After all, almost the whiole island is either Catholic or Protestant. But the commercial aspect is much less.

There is some modern Western commercialism though. For instance, in the large towns (I am currently in teh capital, Tana) there are street santas, people dressed up as Santa to take pictures with and such. But the people here are mostly black, yet always put on a white/Caucasian Santa mask. The effect is a strange one. Also, there are some Coca Cola posters around with Santa and some French writing about Christmas. And a few places sell lights and other decorations. But for the most part, the holiday is religious. People go to church on Christmas eve night, and again on Christmas. They eat a big meal with their family (just like in the USA... but much more rice). There are not really big parties, that is more of an event for New Years (again like the USA).

I spent Christmas with some volunteers here, and we cooked a big dinner and watched American tv (Weeds and the Office) and movies (namely Alladin!) and had Madagascar stockings, or plastic bags filled with candy, peanuts and lychees.

Speaking of lychees, they are a delightful small fruit that are ubiquitous here in Madagascar during the month of December (when they are "in season" and ripe). They are sweet, and you simply peel off the hard skin to get at the delicious flesh of the fruit. Everywhere you look, the skins and pits are strewn across the ground. It is pretty crazy. Also mangos are in season, and they are also delicious. I have not helped anyone harvest mangos, but I did help get lychees down from a friends' tree. They were high up, so we took a long stick with a split in it and put the gap around the small branch holding the lychees, then twisted the stick until the branch broke and, still wrapped around the stick, we lowered the lychees on the branch to the ground. So, to paraphrase a classic jam... I really love your lychees wanna shake your tree...

One last note on Girls Camp from November. The camp was a week long, and we ran all sorts of cool sessions, including decision making and life choices skills, health sessions on relationships and HIV/AIDS, environment sessions on cookstoves, the rainforest and trees and many others. I led a session on tree planting that included a game of human pyramid to demonstrate the need for strong and wide roots to make a tree grow healthy and strong. There are lots of good pics at the girls camp site (now linked on the right), but you can especially check out the girls' pyramids. It was a good time, and goofy and hilarious too. Oh and we had a gameday that featured such classics as duck duck goose and tug of war. So we spread a little Americana as well!

Finally, as for other pics, I tried uploading some from the event known as FestiNew Cranksgiving, which included yours truly in "Young Santa" attire, but the computer is very slow. Hopefully my sister will be putting up some old photos here soon and we can recap them all for you. Otherwise, until next time, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

Cause in the Mornin it's Girls, and in the Evenin it's GIRLS

Well we had our girls camp at the beginning of November, and it was a smashing success. I have not had much access lately, so sorry for the delays in info. But you can all see pictures of our girls camp! We took 20 girls from our area of Madagascar to the rainforest in Andasibe and then the capital, Tana. We taught about life skills and decision making, environment and health education, and visited with professional Malagasy women / role models and the University in Tana. It was a lot of fun. Take a look at some of our great pics at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/lacalaotrapcvs/GirlsCamp2008#


It should be noted that I had nothing to do with putting these pics online, but one ofarea Vols is home in the US currently for a wedding and to visit family. So Thanks to Kathryn!

Also, another link, I posted some fun brief tales on our group blog: http://dagudiaries.blogspot.com/2008/11/for-your-eyes-only.html


Happy Belated Thanksgiving!

Rock You Like a Hurricane

So I’m walking through the rainforest during a cyclone… Okay, so actually it is the remnants of a cyclone that was headed to Madagascar, in other words 5 days of heavy rains. Plus it’s the rainforest, so it would likely be raining anyways. The paths turned into waterfalls and the trip was a soaking wet yet fun time. So we eventually get to the small town we are staying the night in, before I head back home and the rest of my group heads on to the east coast city of Tamatave over a week long hike. The group was a collection of local farmers’ groups, aid workers and some out of town folks, inspecting the rainforest for deforestation and investigating possible tourism routes. So while sleeping in my tent in the forest, I wake up at 2:30 am to a searing pain in my face. After frantically trying to douse it with water or figure out what the pain is, once morning dawned I was able to find the culprit: a scorpion, still curled up in my tent. So I tell the locals I am with about this, and they take the scorpion and put it in a bottle of locally-brewed rum (taoka), and tell me that when the scorpion dies the poison (mild) will mix with the alcohol to form a medicine; the antidote! Of course, they point out that the sting is not deadly, but since it was on my face it was merely extremely painful. On my nose was the sting, and my sinuses were burning all day as I hiked home. The “antidote” was supposed to be spread over the pain… I think the alcohol was just supposed to numb the pain. Whatever it was, it did not provide much relief, but by the next day I was perfectly fine and had the added souveneir of a scorpion floating preserved in a bottle of alcohol. Really a win-win situation, and a good story to boot. Ah, Madagascar.

Everyone Has AIDS

(Written today Oct. 7, 2008)

I just returned from helping at an AIDS-awareness bike race in the eastern city of Tamatave. We spent a few days going around the area talking about AIDS (known here by its French acronym, SIDA) and talking about safe sex and treatmens and such. Basically I was able to see and try the work that health volunteers do here in Madagascar. The AIDS infection rate here in Madagascar is very low for Africa, mostly due to such education drives. The actual race featured bikes, a running race, and a pousse-pousse race (those carts that are pulled by people, kind of like a chariot). Also there was a concert, with the performers singing such classics as “SIDA, SIDA,” “Stop SIDA,” and of course plain old “SIDA.” At least the lyrics were pretty easy to understand. The whole event was interesting, plus I got to see the beach (it is excruciatingly hot there, and not even summer yet), and I purchased a hammock. All around a great trip.
I also recently spent time visiting other volunteers’ sites, all of which are very different, and accompanying Peace Corps staff on their site development work (in which they plan out sites for future volunteers). This was especially interesting because we would go off into the rainforest into these isolated communities and just talk to the local people to get a feel for the place. Hopefully volunteers will be placed in some of these places and I can go back and see how they turn out!
I feel like there are lots of random little things going on, but for now I am just happy to get some information up on here. Also, if anyone has an extra Santa hat (or perhaps white hair dye?) lying around, and want to send it my way, I will put it to good use. Though I am pretty sure I can find both in country… they will of course be put to good use for New Cranksgiving, our 3 holiday combination event in December. Thanks for all the love, and hope all is well in your neck of the woods!

Bulls On Parade

(Written 9/20/2008)

Yesterday I was gouged by a bull. Is that the right word? Stabbed? Gored? Horned? Made into a Chris-Kebob? (Get it? Like shish… ah forget it). The cow in question didn’t even break my skin, although it did leave a bruise on my stomach that looks like an appendectomy scar. Oh and it tore my classic DHHS Class of 2001 shirt. In all honestly, it was more funny that anything. I was ascending a hill, minding my own business, letting my mind wander on all things rice-related (“how does one make sake? Or rice krispies?”) Meanwhile, a cow (omby) was coming down the hill on the opposite side of the road. A little further on was a young boy and his other cow. All of a sudden, as he was trying to tell me the cow was “masika” (misbehaven), the bull turns towards me and in a few steps pins me against the grass wall with his horns. Then he stepped back and continued on his way. After a breath or two, I started laughing: “Did that just happen!?” I soon found myself wishing for a larger scar to show off!
I promised to be on the lookout for misprinted sports team gear here, and today I saw a doozy. It was a navy blue pullover fleece a man was wearing, and on the left breast was a gold monogram ND (also on the back collar). But printed down the sleeve was WOLVERINES. Fighting back the urge to throw up in my mouth, I forced myself to look again, hoping it was a mirage. Nope, there they were, Notre Dame and Michigan, combined in an unholy alliance. I never thought I would see an image so horrible. I am proud to say I did not tear off the sleeve (even if I did consider it), and took solace in our recent victory over UM. I will pass along other such discrepancies as I find them!
I also made a fun purchase recently: an Ancy Be (Big Knife). Much as its name implies, it is in fact a large knife, basically a huge blade attached to a stick. It is good for ax-like work like splitting wood as well as trimming plants and such. It is also good for frightening young kids. Bsaically it is the kind of knife Crocodile Dundee would want. Final note: Rice really does go with everything. Mashed potatoes, bananas, cup o’ noodle soup, marinade mixes, peanut butter, jam… I have yet to find a poor match.

What’s Up with the Boots on Your Feet?

(Written 9/17/2008)

I have often been criticized by local Malagasy for the shoes I wear. Most days, I wear a pair of cheap flipflops, which is not really a problem. But when it rains a lot, and the roads become slippery sheets of mud, the flipflops get no traction and my feet go in an opposite direction from my shoes. In other words, I fall. A lot. The flipflops also sometimes get submerged in mud and I have to dig them out. Everyone told me to buy a pair of (the very popular here) Jellies. That’s correct, the plastic sandals that encase your feet. I think I last owned a pair when I had neon orange shorts to match (we are talking early-90s, not 2 years ago during an Apt. 427 one-time-only exception). I resisted my desire to own such hip footwear until today, when my flipflops broke. Actually, they have broken before, and already have more shoe goo in them to hold them together than original material. But I got a pair of Jellies. Early returns are mixed, but we’ll see how they hold up in the muddy rainy season in a few months. I have a feeling that nothing can keep thus uncoordinated pile of awkwardness from falling. But maybe they will help a little?
Speaking of footwear, I often wear my hiking boots on longer trips. A few days ago, riding on a taxi-brousse (van) returning from my banking town, I was very glad I had these boots on. After about an hour, the Brousse had to go back to the bigger town for some part, so we got out and walked for about 4 hours until the brousse returned for the final hour or so of the trip. By now, I am perfectly used to walking long distances (this is what all that “training”, like walking from downtown South Bend to the airport or DC to various Northern Virginia locales, was for). In spite of some rain and steep hills, the walk was relaxing, and I even found a cool Omby (cow) horn en route. Still, I am not yet Malagasy enough to have made the trip barefoot, so I was thankful for the boots.
Today I was sitting with a friend, watching him make watering cans and lanterns from scrap metal. Pretty cool, but while he was working, I was talking with an older man who asked if we had “Olona Akoho” in America. This confused me, because it means “Chicken Men.” I thought maybe this was an insult meaning cowards? But after some charades explanations, I realized he was talking about Native Americans and their feathered headresses. Naturally!
Finally, today I was also working with the staff of the nearby Primary school. This school, Mitsinjo, is the private school that recently had its official grand opening that I wrote about. I met with all the teachers because they wanted to apply for a grant to improve their school, but had some differing ideas about what to work on. So we used one of those PACA tools I mentioned a while back: Priority Ranking. In this, we took all of their ideas and put them in a grid on the top and the side. Then we voted on each idea in a head-to-head match up. It was an interesting process. Their ideas included new uniforms, a library, an infirmary, new equipment… even a faculty lounge. As we voted, we also discussed the merits of each, and eventually decided on building a library for the kids. It was exciting to watch the people reach their own consensus (I only facilitated); that, I think, is what development is supposed to look like. So we will see if we can get the proposal in order, and perhaps eventually christen a new library for the local children!
I mentioned how walking long distances no longer phases me. Other things that seem normal now, but may be odd to you reading at home: little boys wearing dresses; massive group meals where the side dish (sauce with a little meat) is served from buckets and everyone eats from communal rice bowls; going to a movie that is supposed to start at 6:30 and then sitting through an hour of music videos before the movie actually starts (most recently, I saw Redbelt, an MMA movie with Randy Couture and a very fat Tim Allen… it was dubbed in French, and I had no idea what was going on, except that it was terrible); eating 3 plates of rice and then being told, by someone who did not finish their first plate, that I and all Americans do not and cannot eat rice; looking at my plate in a restaurant and finding a hair or bug or something else unacceptable in the States and, instead of not eating or complaining to the staff, scolding myself for actually looking at what I was eating (ignorance is bliss!)
I know I said “finally” a while ago, but for real this time – I have to brag about a few recent care package goodies. My mom sent a harmonica, so now I can retaliate with odd noises against the chickens and dogs in my neighborhood. And my dad sent a classic Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade poster, which if you know me you can imagine how perfect that is. It looks especially cool by candlelight. And of course, congrats to the 2-0 Irish, I have the local kids working on the cheers so I think that is helping. By the time I leave, maybe we will have even mastered the complex drum/clapping/handgestures/chanting ones!

Over the River and Through the Woods

Written August 4, 2008; posted by MOM)

Well, as I predicted, my trip to the “the Great Above” was quite the experience. It was a long journey, about 5 hours maybe, but part of it was on a river. I was taken down the river in a “Lakana”, a slender, long dugout canoe that is poled down the river. It was a relaxing trip on one of the few sunny and dry days, and I spent part of the trip teaching the boatman some English. People often ask for strange words in English; for instance, I was teaching a group of kids body parts they would point to (“orana”=nose, “maso”=eyes) when one of them asked me to translate “faneva”, a word I had never heard. We had to walk halfway across town to a “faneva” so they could point it out. It ended up being a flag. Sure, nose, eyes, flag...makes sense! Well the boatman and I were going over things around us, like “rano”=water, “masoandro”=sun, when he asked me about a word that ended up meaning “to be arrested/to be in jail”. Natural progression!

While in the new village, I sat in on a fety (party) celebrating the anniversary of the town becoming an official fokontany. At least, I think that is what they were celebrating. When the large town hall style meeting, in which townspeople asked the community leaders questions, became a heated debate, they decided to end things on a funny note by having me address the crowd. So I spoke briefly to the few hundred people, cracking some cheesy jokes, and changing the attitudes of the children from pure terror to intense curiosity. I may have mentioned this before, but somewhere the rumor started, and has passed along the generations, that “Vazaha” (white foreigners) eat children, or at least misbehaving children. So, many kids run away screaming when they see me. To make matters worse, the older children find it amusing to carry their screaming younger siblings up to me to terrorize them. After a series of hand pounds (Tona kely), high fives and some jokes in Malagasy, most children warm to me. Although they still run off when I casually mention I am hungry...

At night, the town had a “Bal” or dance/party. It is common for men to dance together or at least in male-only groups. So a number of the town elders wanted to dance with me, which was a bit strange. After dancing, they would try to set me up with a girl as a “sipa” (girlfriend). They also would try and give me “Toaka Gasy”, a homemade rum that is incredibly harsh to drink. I expect a cartoon-like burst of flames to emit from my mouth after a sip. Eventually, we headed home, where I found out that as well as being a breakfast, lunch and dinner, Vary (rice) is also a late-night snack! Late-night parties at Notre Dame used to consist of frozen pizzas and Tostitos, in DC it was 7-11 snacks and jumbo slices, and in Madagascar it is cold leftover rice!

Speaking of rice, since I was a guest, everyone wanted me to eat with them. At every meal, I made the rounds and would eat rice. Each time, I did not expect to be soon at another house eating rice. So I would eat my share, until I was full, and leave...only to be invited in somewhere new and encouraged to eat until bursting again. I had 2 or 3 of each meal. It was not only filling, but downright exhausting!

All in all, it was a fun trip, even if I managed to get soaked on the trip home in the river. I taught some people the Gospel of Compost according to Chris, and met plenty of interesting new people (like the man I met walking through town who is, according to him and everyone I asked, 105 years young!) Now I am preparing for a Peace Corps training, which means it is time to shave my rather ridiculous 2 month old beard into an even more ridiculous moustache. I know this is the kind of information you all need to know. It will also be the first time my training group gets back together, so I am sure there will be plenty of crazy stories to hear. But I think the moustaches will be the real treat.

Tying up a few loose ends, I mentioned previously eating something called “Fary” and said it was a sweet root crop. Well, upon further inspection, I am an idiot: Fary is sugar cane. So, no wonder it is (almost painfully) sweet! It is also what Toaka Gasy is made from, although I have yet to learn this art.

As part of my daily experience, hearing my name shouted repeatedly by children is always a bit weird. For one, my name is pronounced by everyone here as “Krees” or like the English word “crease”. For another, it is repeated endlessly until I respond or wave, which of course only further encourages the kids. And finally it is now always followed by “Bama, Bama, Bama, Who!” It is kind of like having your own theme song or batting music or entrance music. “Crease! Crease! Crease! Bama! Bama! Bama! Who!” It announces my presence long before my actual arrival, and builds the excitement to a fever pitch...or something like that.

I also forgot to mention another odd thing about Malagasy music—the prevalence of Malagasy Pop Country music. A number of Malagasy artists have become popular by making country music in Malagasy, even adopting the look of country stars. So a music video will have the group in cowboy hats, chaps, boots...never mind that there is no real correlation to traditional American country staples like horses. But there are lots of cows. One popular video in particular makes me laugh: Tselatra, a group of Malagasy male singers, are dressed like cowboys, hanging out in a pickup truck and throwing their arms around each other in a brotherly fashion like good ol’ boys. Seriously if you muted the music and dubbed over the current American country song, it would fit perfectly. Wild!

I Want Action, Tonight!

(Written by Chris 8/1/08; posted by MOM)

Besides piquing the interest of one R. Brooks with a classic hairband reference, this title specifically refers to PACA. What is PACA, you ask? Participatory Analysis for Community Action. That’s what it stands for, Chris, but what does it MEAN? Well, Peace Corps loves acronyms, and this particular one refers to a method of analyzing needs in a community, and eventually taking action to meet these needs. Basically, a Peace Corps volunteer meets with a small group of community members and presents one of a series of “tools” designed to discover the needs of that group. One such tool is to chart an average day’s activities, often splitting in to male and female groups, and comparing the results. When the needs have been identified, then a solution can be agreed upon and carried out together (for example, if a large portion of a woman’s day is spent fetching water from a distant source, maybe the community will rally around building new and closer wells). This way, the community members have a say in both the analysis and the action. The hope is to avoid situations where a project is completed but is never utilized because it was not a high priority of the community. (What good are more outhouses if no one uses them?)

With that lengthy explanation behind us, let me tell you a bit about my first attempt at a PACA activity. First, I created signs for a meeting, got them stamped and approved, and put them up around town. Interesting sidebar: while I was using Duct Tape to put up my signs, apparently the Malagasy use bananas (“akondro”) to create a paste for such posters. Everyone who saw the posters said two things: they were amazed that I could write in Malagasy; and they would come to the meeting. I began to worry too many people would show up, but it ended up being a group of about 20, mostly men, mostly from the farmers’ co-op, and thus mostly friends of mine. We talked about what made our town good, listing things like crops, the rainforest, the schools the radio station...Then we created maps of the community. Basically it was information gathering for me, and there was no “action” planned yet. That will come in the future, hopefully; for now, “M bola mianatra aho” (I am still learning).

Speaking of the community run radio station, I was hanging out there a few nights ago and was asked to give an impromptu on air interview. The questions were the same as I always get: are you settled here, do you like the town, do you like Malagasy food (they are convinced eating rice makes foreigners sick to their stomachs), how old are you, and my personal favorite, are you married. This last one is always asked of me, often early in conversations, and if I say no they want to know why, and if I would soon marry a Malagasy woman and take her back to the United States with me. Well, when my male radio interviewer asked me if I was married, I said: “No. Why, would you like to marry me?” This threw him off, and the rest of the studio filled with laughter, as we cut the interview short and cued up the song I had chosen (by my favorite Malagasy band, Ambondrana). I like hanging out at the station and learning about Malagasy music, even if I have to hear questions about their limited American music selection (“You like Avril Lavigne?” “Would you like us to play My Heart Will Go On, again?” “James Blunt is wonderful, yes?”)

To tie up a few loose ends from the home improvement post, it seems finishing touches were needed on the house we worked on. While the basic clay is used for most of the house, a more weather-resistant coating was added later. This was a mixture of many parts, one of which was Tain’Omby, or cow manure. I am resisting the urge to make a joke here. Cow manure is widely used as a fertilizer and construction material here, along with its use as fragrant road dressings that I always manage to step in. While forming the original clay, I led some kids in clay modeling, making animals and such. I noticed an interesting cultural point, as each kid made a cow and a pot for cooking rice. And indeed, these two resources, both of which were imported to Madagascar, are the most highly valued by the Malagasy. Most traditional artwork feature cows and only as the Malagasy have learned to market to tourists have they changed to indigenous treasures like lemurs or baobab trees. And I have yet to meet a Malagasy who does not instantly answer my question of favorite foods with an emphatic “Vary!” (rice).

Tomorrow I embark on another epic journey to teach about compost, this time to a fokontany with the name of, loosely translated, “The Great Above”. Sounds kind of like heaven. I would also like to point out that after I boasted earlier in July about how it was sunny; the rest of the month was rainy and dreary. I knew I would jinx it!

I. Love. Football on TV.

(Written today, 9/12/2008)

It’s that time of year, and I’ve already got a longing for some gridiron action. Needless to say, even though I was able to find the Olympics on television here, football (American style) is not shown locally. But a bunch of volunteers are planning to get together for a late Thanksgiving holiday and feast, and really what is Thanksgiving without football? While I hope we can get a game going ourselves, I also thought I’d ask those of you who are technologically savvy a favor. Any chance someone out there, with a dvr recorder (or whatever the current technology is these days) would like to record a football game for us? We should have access to a computer for viewing a dvd. Of course I am partial to ND games (really Chris? I had no idea…) but our potential host is a diehard niners fan, if they are involved in any big games. Really any game that looks like it would be a good one, maybe primetime nfl?, in the early season would be awesome (as it would probably take a while to get here, maybe a month or so?). Just figured I’d make the request, but don’t worry about it if it is too much of a hassle!
As you may have noticed, I had access to a computer and was able to type up the below two entries rather than mail them home. They were pretty brief anyways. What can I say, not too many funny things have been happening to me lately! Or perhaps I’ve just gotten used to all the craziness and consider it normal now. Like having dinner with a Malagasy family and having an extended (and graphic) discussion of circumcision. Or arriving at a village a few hours from my own, at an appointed time, to meet a man I should be staying with for the night, and he himself doesn’t show up until the following day. These things are pretty normal. But still, I will try to get more good stories for you, or at least relate ways that I make a fool of myself (the best stories usually).
Also, check out our group blog for a quick tale from me about a certain “dumb” actor and his presence in Madagascar. I thought it was a pretty random tale.
Finally, this being Michigan Weekend...


GO IRISH, BEAT WOLVERINES!!!

Like Ma Bell, I Got the Ill Communication

(Written 8/31/2008)

Yes, I am out in a small town in Madagascar, living alone, speaking a foreign language, fetching water from a pump and using a pit latrine. But we recently had a modern technology arrive here: cell phone service! This is the modern Peace Corps experience, a merging of worlds. Now I see people washing their clothes by hand in the river, and stopping to talk on their cell phones. It is all quite surreal!
What does this mean for you reading at home? Well, you can call or text me now if you like. I usually check my phone in the evenings (still no electricity to keep it charged for full-time use), or late morning for most of you reading in the States. Calls are expensive for me to make, but free to receive, and texts are still cheap for me to send. Not sure the best way to call (my Dad uses Skype), and since my phone is not always on you won’t necessarily reach me, but texting is just as easy as in the States (although I do not know the cost for you folks). I’d be happy to hear from you, and my number is 261330607796 (261 is the country code… I’m not sure what exactly you need to dial to get me from the States, sorry!)
The other benefit to cell service is, when I hear a phone ring, I get to yell: “Phone is ringin, oh mygod!” I cannot tell if this confuses people more or less than when I do it in the U.S.
Last week I took a 25 km bike ride to visit a tree nursery. Along the way, my companion stopped to point out two large boulders across a large ravine from us. He told me that it was custom to try and throw a rock across the ravine and hit both boulders and then the large undergrowth below (in one shot), or as he described it the “breasts and stomach of a pregnant woman.” If you could hit all three with the single rock, you would receive good luck (specifically, health and wealth). We did not try, partially because he said it was impossible, and partially because it took me untile we were a ways down the road to fully grasp his explanation. Silly language barrier. Anyway, 15 minutes later he found a 5000 Ariary note on the road (a rather significant amount). He decided he was rewarded for sharing the tradition with me, even if he did not attempt the throw. Considering we barely saw any other people the whole journey, it was quite the coincidence!
Also on this journey, I saw my companion get a full massage next to the dinner table from an elderly masseuse. Nothing wrong with that, but it was unnannounce and a bit of a surprise. One minute he is eating and conversing with me, the next he is shirtless on the bed receiving his massage. Mad’car: Expect the Unexpected!
One other thing I found interesting on this trip: on our way back from the reforestation tree nursery, a 2 hour hike into the forest, we stopped and had some banana sandwiches. Bananas on bread. I thought I was the only one to master this simple delicacy (and that I was weird for enjoying it). I was encouraged to find fellow banana-sandwich fans! Of course, this does not cancel out my weirdness (for instance, I often breakfasst with bananas and sugar on rice).
Yesterday there was a dedication ceremony at my neighbor private school, Mitsinjo (“to take care of”). We had all sorts of Minisiters and education bigwigs (the “Lehibes”) to see the school and officially cut the ribbon. I will probably teach some environmental lessons at this school when lessons start in late September. The ceremony and subsequent party was nice (when I asked what we would do at the party, I received the response of “Eat rice… what else would we do?”), but I enjoyed taking pictures of the assembled kids, all of whom would fight over each other to see their picture. The digital camera and cell phone: two modern technologies making their presence felt in rural lands.
Fun with Malagasy words – I enjoy seeing how Malagasy words are formed. For instance:
Rano = Water
Nono = Breast
Ronono = Milk (or “Water of the Breast”)

Sira = Salt
Mamy = Sweet
Siramamy = Sugar (or “Sweet Salt”)

Aza = Don’t (the command)
Fady = Taboo/forbidden
Azafady = Please/sorry/excuse me (or “Don’t let it be taboo/forbidden!”)

Grew a Mustache and a Mullet

(Written 8-23-2008)

Well we had our In-Service Training, and I saw my fellow volunteers from training. I did indeed grow a mustache, although not a mullet (but my hair, when pulled back by a bandana, sort of resembles one). A few other volunteers also partook, and the range of different mustaches was fantastic. Also, ridiculous t-shirts were in abundance. Seeing everyone again was awesome, even if they all have accomplished much more than me already! During this training, we exchanged stories and learned new skills (like how to get funding for projects – now I just need to find a good project!). One session focused on beekeeping, a practice I thought would be fun to implement at site, at least until I was covered in bees and getting some nice stings. We were told to respect the bees and remain calm, but when they swarm you, inside and outside your clothing, that can be a difficult task. But a few stings are nothing compared to the delicious honey we harvested. Perhaps I can help people with beekeeping after all – To the Bee Mobile! (…You mean your Chevy?)
We also visited a cool organization called Tefy Saina. They pioneered SRI (the System of Rice Intensification), a way of increasing rice yields by better planting methods. But what I really liked was their appropriate technology gadgets. Much like at Akany Avoko, Tefy Saina has found ways to adapt everyday materials to suit all sorts of purposes: a stair-master-esque water pump, a water filter using charcoal, a hand operated washing machine… It was all very cool. You can check them out at www.tefysaina.org
Speaking of NGOs here in Madagascar, two of my friends are working at cool-sounding organizations. Reef Doctors, on the west coast, focuses on protecting the maritime reserves and coral reef environment. Azafady, in the south, has all sorts of projects focusing on environmental protection. I think both offer programs for volunteers to come to Madagascar and work for a few months, so if you are looking for a wild vacation, I would certainly welcome the chance to come see you (and my fellow vols), and you can begin to see some of what we are experiencing here!
Now for a few shout-outs, as I received lots of goodies lately. Thanks to Jen, who sent cds to help me stay sane(-ish), and among other goodies, pictures of friends, even before I had requested them! (I was impressed to, Jen). Bob and Doug, thanks for the reading materials! And of course the family too (my mom sent rice, of all things, as if I don’t get enough… but still wonderful!). And to all who have written too, I greatly appreciate it, and I am working hard to get back to all of you! The ladies at the Post Office are getting tired of seeing me all the time to send letters.
One common theme I have noticed in the letters is a variation on the phrase “You sound like you are having the best time!” While I certainly am, I hope I have not painted too rosy of a picture of my experience. For the most part I tell the good (or hopefully funny) stories here, but it has been a very difficult experience overall. Even after 3 months or so living in my community, I am still an outsider. I guess most days have lots of ups and downs, but it is certainly the good memories that last (and that I want to share with all of you). So if you receive a letter from me that is less positive, it is probably just my way of venting after a particularly tough day. This site we will keep positive, and hopefully entertaining!
Okay, one quick tale of transportation fun in Madagascar. On my way to my training, I had a 4 hour ride in the covered bed of a pickup with 30 other people. Yes, I counted. There were others in the cab, and still a few more brave souls on top. Somehow, it was surprisingly comfortable for me, since I could hang my legs out the back rather than have them crammed between seats. But the ride also featured a trait I have often noticed here: The chain-reaction boot. One person, usually a child (and sometimes a child who is in the middle of breast-feeding), will throw-up from the rough ride. Almost instantaneously, others will vomit as well. Usually it is little more than rice (what else!?) and contained by a cloth or bag. It is no big deal, and everyone goes about their business, cleaning up the puke at the next stop. So far I have been immune to the chain-reaction, but I enjoy the spectacle. After all, don’t be afraid!
I returned from training with more technical books, project ideas, a large bag of condoms (for AIDS awareness and education trainings!), plans to help with a SIDA (the French acronym for AIDS) bike race in Tamatave in October, and a Girls Camp in November. Oh, and some parasy. Parasy are little parasites that burrow into your feet and lay eggs, and look sort of like a blister. I had not gotten any at site (well, maybe one, I’m not sure what one pussy mess was), but during training I discovered one under the “knuckle” of my big toe. I had to pick it out, by digging under it with a pin or knife, but it doesn’t hurt. You have to becareful not to pop the eggsack though… which of course I did, and managed to ooze it out everywhere. No pain, but gross. Madagascar – no large dangerous animals, but plenty of random parasites and strange diseases! I’ll keep you posted if I encounter any more.

Because I’m Housing

(written by Chris July 14, 2008; posted by MOM)

Today I spent some time working with my neighbors, who are building an attachment to their house. The kids were working on the final stages and I asked to lend a hand and learn a bit about Malagasy construction. Houses are made out of mud/clay bricks around a wooden structure. During the past week, the family raised the many beams and supports to create a wooden skeleton of a house. They also thatched the roof. Then today it was time to complete the walls. The red clay dirt is mixed with water to form a sticky substance, which is then taken in small sections and applied to the wooden skeleton to make the walls. So we spent today throwing mud bricks on to the wall and smoothing them together. It was a lot of fun (full disclosure: not all of the mud ended up on the wall, some may have been “accidentally” thrown at fellow workers).

This is the time of year for home improvements (cue Tim Taylor grunts). The rice, the main livelihood in Madagascar, has been harvested and sold, so now people have means to build. Throughout town, stores and homes are being expanded, new animal enclosures built, new animals acquired, etc. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and soon the rice planting will begin again (Sept. or Oct. maybe), and there will be no spare money for such projects. But it is fun to see the new improvements all over town while they last.

Yesterday I broke out the football (Americain) with some of the local kids. It went over well, at least as a brief novelty perhaps. I thinks they still prefer the variety that you kick only, but we had some fun playing keep away and throwing spirals (and end-over-enders too). Speaking of kids, as I expected, my Sweet Home Alabama serenade has led to a new chant. Instead of merely yelling my name when I pass through, now groups of children chant “Bama, Bama, Bama, Whooo!” I fully support this, and often stop to conduct them, give fist pumps or sing along. So far, I have not been asked to translate that line into Malagasy, thankfully; the song itself would be tough to explain, let alone the chant. If pressed, I will probably go for “firenana tsara indrindra,” or “the best state”, although that would be pretty huge props to a state I have never visited, but it also translates as “the best country” so I can pretend it is an American pride song. Which, in a way, it sort of is....right?

I have also had my first semi-formal English lesson recently. I worked with a few men from one of the farmers’ groups, mostly on simple greetings and pronunciation. In case you were unaware, English is a difficult language. It is easy for us native speakers to forget this, but trying to explain it and teach it makes me appreciate those who have mastered it as a foreign language a lot. I found learning Malagasy tough, yet it is an easy language in some respects since there is no verb conjugation, few tenses, and lots of adapted French and English words (such as La biera = beer or telefaona = telephone). But I rarely know what voice or tense I am using in English. I tell anyone who ask to learn that I am not a teacher and therefore “Tsy Mahay” (not knowledgeable) at the grammar, but I would gladly teach words and phrases. So with the farmers, we focused on phrases to use with English-speaking tourists, such as “hello”, “how are you?”, “thank you”, and “you are welcome”. It was a slow start, but a start nonetheless!

Finally some of you have asked “what can I send you?” While I love care packages, I know they are ridiculously expensive to send. Letters are awesome, but if you feel the urge to send something substantial, you can include a CD. My Mom mailed me an old Discman, pointing out that people could include a CD with a letter cheaply and easily. Thus you can return to the John Cusack-era mixtape or maybe a copy of some new album that you think I need to hear. If you feel so inclined, I may even play your song on the local radio when I get the chance to select tunes. Tempting, is it not?

Malagasy 101—Home Improvement Edition:

House—trano—“trah-new”

To improve—manatsara—“man-ah-tsar-ah” (tsar like the Russian ruler). Tsara is Malagasy for “good”, so basically it means “to make more good”

Tool Time—fotoana fiasana—“foo-tone-ah fyas-ah-nah”. Fiasana comes from the very miasa, meaning “to work”

More power—hery betsaka kokoa—“airy bet-sa-ka koo-koo-ah”—I totally made this one up, and apparently “hery” is more like power wielded by a king, but close enough!

Argh, argh, argh—argh, argh, argh—really reach down deep for this one, it comes from the back of the throat (some things are just universal, right?)

Mr. Blue Sky, Please Tell Us Why, You had to Hide Away for So Long...

(written July 6, 2008; posted by MOM)

After all my complaining about the rain in June, the month of July has been absolutely beautiful. Sunny days, clear nights, although still breezy and cool. Let us hope I am not jinxing the weather by writing this!

I want to give a quick thanks to Ryan Fasano and Kirsten Mizzi, both of whom sent wonderful care packages full of magazines and treats. Among the goodies, they both included Bill Simmons articles and the same Maxim issue. I guess my tastes are well known. And speaking of magazines telling me of events from a month ago, it sounds like the NBA finals were pretty fantastic. I enjoy reading magazines I get as if they were current; at this rate, upon my triumphant US return, I will only be a few months behind the on world events, sports and pop culture (as opposed to 2 years). Of course, even in the states I was perpetually behind-the-times, so maybe nothing will change!

Quick tangent—like a little kid, I have taken to covering my walls with interesting photos and such from magazines. One such picture is an Adidas ad for deodorant featuring a gang of Notre Dame football players making a tackle. Setting aside the difficulty in finding a recent photo of Notre Dame players actually making a tackle, since when does ND sell-out for deodorant? This Adidas ad is a far cry from the classic Champion-ND commercials of my childhood (“It takes a little more to make a Champion!”), the timing of which always seemed to coincide with the Planicka household getting a bit dusty. Oh well, I guess I should be happy to see ND portrayed in any sort of positive light after last year. If the wearing of Adidas deodorant leads to a national champ..., I mean, a winning season, then I guess it’s alright.

Getting back to Madagascar, one of the skills I have been trying to master since my arrival is the ability to observe everything around you while walking. You never know when you might see an interesting critter, in the trees, on the ground, anywhere. I am pretty terrible at this, and usually rely on others to point out chameleons or frogs. But today I got lucky, and as the cliché uttered by so many sports players say, it is better to be lucky than good. For the second time, I saw a Tenrec (which I previously wrote about), and this time I had my camera! The little fella posed for me and allowed some good pictures, but when I tried to put the camera on a timer and get in the shot with him, he quickly scampered away. The same thing happens when I try to get in a picture with the geckos at my house. Apparently the local wildlife is worried I’ll ruin their photo-op!

As for the Malagasy people and photo opportunities, I think we are making progress. At a recent compost lesson, I succeeded in getting most of the people to look at the camera and smile, something that has proven challenging. The nice thing about digital cameras is you can show people the shot immediately, and they can self-police with phrases like: “hey, you’re not smiling” and “can we take another?” Technology is wonderful, and I promise I will be able to share some of these photos with you all eventually!

Random Madagascar fact—the Indri, the type of lemur I hear each morning from my house, has an impressive voice: its song can carry up to 3km. Spread out throughout the rainforest, Indri call to each other every morning and again at nights. The following is from Bradt’s Madagascar Guide : “In Malagasy the Indri is called babakoto which means “father of Koto.” It is fady (fady means taboo basically) to kill an Indri, the legend being that the boy Koto climbed a tree in the forest to collect wild honey, and was severely stung by the bees. Losing his hold, he fell, but was caught by an Indri which carried him on its back to safety.” A timely alarm clock, with a haunting wailing song AND life-saving credentials make the Indri far superior to that other more annoying morning and evening crow-er, the rooster. Fady is itself an interesting concept, and each local area has their own set of fady or taboos. A relatively benign one in my area is you cannot work in the fields with a shovel. More interesting ones are you cannot wear red during a thunderstorm (because you will be struck by lightning) in parts of the country, and a friend of mine on the south coast says its is fady in his town to have stairs, perhaps because someone fell off a particularly high flight of stairs? Of course, we Americans harbor our own share of social taboos that may trike outsiders as odd (throwing salt over you shoulder, calling “shot gun” in a car, not walking under a ladder or other “bad luck” fears, etc)

Throw Away Your Television

(written 7/1/08; posted by MOM)

Why? Because when I start appearing on television, it has to be a bad sign. That’s right; I was briefly on Malagasy TV. I did not see it, since there are no televisions in my town, but fellow volunteers in my banking town saw me and told me about it. During tryouts for the town’s singing competitions for June 26th at the local radio station, I make an appearance in the background as I observe the talent. It was very brief, of course. Nevertheless—a star is born! Naturally, it was not a speaking part, but we all start somewhere. Perhaps I can be a silent star like Charlie Chaplin? An unknowing star, since I had no idea I would be on television until after it aired, but still a star!

I greatly enjoy shopping at Frips—the little stands in the market selling clothing. Since many of the clothes are donated from America, I often see shirts from local bars, high schools, athletic teams, restaurants and more from home. I also enjoy looking for ridiculous shirts, much as I did at thrift store in the US. In fact, when my Peace Corps training group gathers for in-service training (IST) next month, one event we have planned is a ridiculous tee shirt competition (there may or may not be a facial hair competition as well) But often when I am looking for outrageous or hideous shirts (or the Holy Grail—sports champion misprint shirts, like Patriots 19-0), I am surprised to find shirts that I would wear regularly in the US> Often these are band shirts (particularly cool G n’ R and Iron Maiden shirts, although the Scorpions shirt is most popular) but also cool South African and Aussie rugby shirts, English Premier League shirts..such a variety. You just never know when you will find a true treasure. As for what I have set for my IST wardrobe...I think it is best to wait for the photos, for the full effect.

Continuing the non-sequitoir stories, I had dinner with a Malagasy friend and his family tonight. Two things stuck out, both of which I have touched on before: the American songs on locally, and the Malagasy children. During my visit, I twice heard the Brittany Spears song “Not a Girl, Not yet a Woman”. It has, unfortunately, been stuck in my head since. The other point is that children really are the same everywhere. I completely lost track of time playing hand games and other simple word-less games with family’s little kids, I like that there is no cultural barrier when it comes to playing simple games with children, wherever you are.

Finally, I thought I would regularly drop some Malagasy language lessons in here. Maybe they will come in handy for you? At the very least, when I return in a few years and am still often speaking Malagasy, maybe some little bit of it will make since. Probably wishful thinking, but on with Malagasy 101!

• Masandro—sun—I start with this one because it is fun to say (pronounced “mah-swan-drew”) and it has a cool root: “maso” means “eye” and “andro” means “day”. Thus the sun is the eye of the day!
• Mihinana—to eat—very important verb, one of the first you learn when you arrive at your host family hungry (“noana”). Pronounced “me-he-na-na”. Most Malagasy verbs start with the letter M (making the M section take up half of the dictionary), and there is no conjugation. This means you rely on personal pronouns to determine the subject (“aho” for I, “ianau” for you pronounced “ah-who” like the sneeze “achoo” and “Ya-now”). Part of the usual greeting may include the question “Mihin anam-Bary ve ianao?”, meaning “have you eaten rice” basically, “bary” coming from “Vary {var-e, rice} “ve” being a question word for yes or no questions, like if someone said “you enjoy reading this blog, right?” The “right” would be equivalent to “ve”, but there is no translation.
• Aiza—where, where is [there is no verb “to be” in Malagasy]. Pronounced “tea-ah-kew”. In a related political note, the Malagasy President’s party if TIM, or Tiako I Madagasikara, literally “I Love Madagascar”. “Tough to vote against a name like the, I imagine!

Now, let’s put these sentences to some useful purpose—when it has been raining constantly for a few days, you ask “Aiza ny Masoandro?” When you want to reassure your Malagasy friends, say “Tiako Mihinanam-bary!) See, it’s not so hard, and soon you too will be Efa Mahay teny Malagasy! [Literally, “already smart at the Malagasy language” or already knowing the Malagasy language”}

P.S. In a sign of how humid and moist it is here, all of my envelopes have sealed themselves shut and I have to rip them a bit to use them. Whoops!

They Pick Me Up When I’m Feeling Blue, Now How About You?

(written 6/26/08; posted by MOM)

One of the 3 goals of Peace Corps is to share American culture with your host country. Well, I am not sure if what I shared was a universal American culture, but it was certainly a part of my personal culture...Maybe we should start from the beginning, and you be the judge.

Today is Madagascar’s Independence Day. They celebrate in a similar style to our Independence Day but since Madagascar achieved independence more recently, in 1960, the Malagasy are more enthusiastic about it. There are people here who remember life under colonization still. They held a parade in town, with each school’s students marching behind a banner. They had a flag-raising ceremony, sang the national anthem, and the many local dignitaries gave speeches. Then the American and Malagasy Independence Day similarities took a hiatus. Because it was time for the singing competition.

Yes, there was a singing competition, and it was pretty serious, complete with tryouts and winners. In between the formal competitors, who sang Malagasy pop songs, there were other groups with more fun entries. These included school groups with songs and dance routines, some joke songs written just for this occasion, and me. You read that correctly. After much cajoling, I gave in to an on-the-spot request to sing something. I eventually convinced everyone that I did not know any Malagasy songs, and they said: “Sing an American song!” Well, alright, I am not one to pass up an opportunity to be a ridiculous spectacle, am I?

I decided a good representation of American classic rock was needed, so I went to an old faithful that I knew well: Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama. So the music man put on a generic “rock and roll” beat on the synthesizer, which sounded like 1950’s era rock, and I took the mic in front of my soon-to-be adoring fans. But before I began, I told the crowd they had to help me: after each line in the chorus, they had to all sing “Bama bama bama who!” This was a direct nod to H. Tom, the London 8 ballers, and the Greater 523 S. St. Joe’s family. You know who you are. (I decided not to add the lines “they are so blue” and “here I come-a, Alabama” to keep it simple for an audience that spoke no English) And it worked, the crowd enjoyed my scratchy singing, and enthusiastically yelled their pert after every line in the chorus—by the end, after very line in the verse too. Now, I know what you are thinking: where is the video? Well, fear not, for I took a poor-quality, brief video with my digital camera. It is shaky, since I took it with my left hand and quickly before I finished, but it is proof that I led some Malagasy people in a heartfelt rendition of Sweet Home Alabama. This fall I plan to mail home a camera card to post photos online, and hopefully we can get the video up then too. It was a fun experience, even if now I will likely hear “Bama bama bama who!” yelled at me everywhere I go. But then, that is not such a bad thing, and it will be a nice reminder of home.

So that is my tale of Independence Day cultural exchange. Next year I will maybe learn and sing a Malagasy song, since I have to one-up myself on the embarrassment scales, right? I think so. The Malagasy celebrate in style, and I contributed a bit of southern rock. This proves that, even without Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum, Independence Day can be a fun-filled extravaganza.

--Random Madagascar fact—During World War II, Britain launched its first ever large-scale combined air, sea and land operation to capture the strategic Madagascar port Diego-Suarez from Vichy France. This was to prevent Japanese takeover, and to provide British mastery of the seas. This mastery would thwart one major plan of Nazi Germany. Since the late 1930’s, the Nazi’s planned to deport European Jews to Madagascar. The plan was to either make Madagascar a vast “reservation” for Jews, or to make it the site of the final solution’s atrocities since it is so remote. Until 1941, this plan was Nazi doctrine, when the continued superiority of the British Navy proved it impractical. Both these stories were excerpted from my Bradt Madagascar guidebook, which it turn, takes them from a cool sounding book: The Forgotten Invasion: The Story of Britain’s First Large-Scale Combined Operation, the Invasion of Madagascar, 1942, by John Grehan. Hope you liked this first Random Fact, I’ll try to include more in the future!

May You Have a Happy Birthday, Now and Your Whole Life Through (boom boom boom)

(written 6/25/08—posted by MOM)

Only a very select few will know the title to this entry, but it probably the greatest birthday song ever. The closest competitor I can think of comes from an episode of the Simpsons, in which animatronics robots at a Chuck E. Cheese-style restaurant (or Pip’s!) sing, “you’re the birthday, you’re the birthday, you’re the birthday boy OR girl!!”

Getting back to my point, I have been lucky enough to spend my birthdays in some pretty amazing places. In grade school, there were 2 times that school ended on my birthday or the day before, due to snow days (multiple snow days in Southern Connecticut?! This was before global warming...). A pretty great present, even for a nerdy kid like me. I turned 17 in Spain, in an awesome little town that put on a fireworks display and concert—not directly in my honor, but I pretended it was (the name escapes me; Alex, do you recall? It had an aqueduct I think). My 23rd birthday was in Los Angeles at CDBSD I: The Awakening (for the uninitiated, a college reunion...of sorts). Now for my 25th birthday I am in Madagascar! Really amazing. Let me recount the day and some recent tales for you.

I started the day by cooking some delicious banana pancakes (thus doing Jack Johnson proud), then proceeded on a lengthy trek over the hills and far away (paying homage to Led Zeppelin). Monday, June 23rd was the day of a teaching session in a nearby fokontany (village). Unfortunately, due to the constant rains, the road was more of a river, so a local friend and I hiked 5 hours through rice paddies and over giant hills. When walking through the open fields, it felt like a scene from pretty much any war movie (minus any sense of danger, of course). Then hiking along the hilltops, it felt like Lord of the Rings. Crossing the wet rice fields and surrounding areas, many times I had to make a Leap of Faith, much like the final challenge faced by Indiana Jones in the Last Crusade: I would step on to what I hoped, or believed, was solid ground, or where I thought there was a rock or plank of wood just beneath the murky water. Of course, this method is far from fool proof, and I managed to fall in to one river, covered up to my waist in muck. I was quite the hilarious sight. Quick side note: How was the new Indy movie: I am hoping by the time I return they have released a Special Edition that edits Sean Connery in to the film. Quitting acting to free Scotland from the British; doesn’t Sean know Bravehart Gibson already did that?!

So I spent my birthday in the fokontany, eating lots of rice, conversing with my new Malagasy friends, and being laughed at by children. I taught the farmers about natural fertilizers and compost, and we joked about my struggles with the Malagasy language (and they attempted to learn some English). I also had the special treat of honey, straight
from the comb! One of the farmers raises bees, so we sat around and enjoyed some very sweet honey. Maybe too sweet; after a spoonful I was left puckering and making a face like the rookie in the H. Tom-approved classes, Super Troopers, after his syrup chugging. So, a birthday unlike any other, fun and exhausting.

I returned home to prepare for my first real kibary (formal speech) tomorrow at the Madagascar Independence Day ceremony. I plan to write one more entry about the holiday before sending these entries home to be posted. A couple of last tidbits before I go to burn some trash (Bob Brooks—Paper everywhere!)

One more movie reference in this already reference-heavy entry: I thought of a good analogy for walking around the slippery roads here. It is like in the Return of the Jedi when the Imperial walkers, the ones that look like chickens and get beat by the cute fuzzy bears, stumble on the logs and their legs turn jellyish as they sway every which way. It can actually be fun, although I don’t think it is ever a pretty sight for those watching me.

A quick book recommendation: I recently read How Soccer Explains the World by Franklin Foer. A very interesting read about globalization and soccer, although it should be subtitled “why you should cheer for Barca.” People here like soccer, but the national team is not very good, and I don’t know of many Malagasy players playing in the top
European leagues, so this book has no real Madagascar connection. Just an insightful read.

I’ve had lots of good questions from friends’ letters, asking about what exotic animals I see, foods I eat, clothes people wear, and other such daily things. I will try to write about such cultural and environmental aspects here as well. Aside from honeycomb, I recently had a sweet root called fary. I am not too familiar with roots, like cassava, so I’m not sure how best to describe it, but you suck on the fibers and get a sweet sugary juice from it. Most fruits here are seasonal, and I hear the lychee season is particularly good, so I will keep you posted.

If it Keeps on Rainin’, the Levee’s Gonna Break....

(written Thurs. 6/19/08; posted by MOM)

To be honest, I don’t even know where the closest levee is, so I don’t think it is in danger of breaking. But I wanted to stress (again....) that it rains here a lot, at least once a day. But after living in rainy havens like South Bend and London, I am pretty used to it. (Even DC could feel like those two dreary-weather places at times). And when the sun does come out, it is usually a beautiful sight.

One effect of the constant rains (note: this is actually Madagascar’s “dry season”) is that the road become slick. That is a huge understatement. The roads here are dirt or clay, and they become like muddy ice sheets in the rain. I tend to slip n’ slide (remember that game?) my way wherever I am going. This makes walking places especially interesting because you always have to go up and down steep hills around town. So far I have mostly lived up to the challenge, with only a few near-wipeouts to my name. When I do fall hard in a huge mud puddle (and I will, no doubt), I hope plenty of people are there to see. I wouldn’t want to waste the site of the big goofy American covered in much! Also, semi-related, I tend to wear my hiking boots in this type of weather (barefoot, hiking boots, sandals...all have proven ineffective for traction, but the boots are the warmest!) Well coming home from the fields or a long walk, I can finally understand somewhat the scourge of WWI infantrymen—trench foot.. I can see how wading through dank mud all day could leave feet damp and cold; of course, I have not had it, and am sure to get warm as much as possible. It is just funny sometimes to think that you share more in common with early 20th Century dwellers (or earlier) in the Peace Corps than 21st Century. But I wouldn’t be telling you about pit latrines and bucket showers without the modern technology like the internet!

When I was a student at ND, I took a service trip to Appalachia. My fellow classmates on the trip (unfortunately, almost all of whom I have lost touch with) atone point dubbed me “Huck Finn”, because whenever I had the chance I would wander off some cool trail of roll up my jeans and wade through water. While the nickname did not stick (to be fair, there were lots of nicknames created on this trip; I at one point also held the less-masculine one of “Princess,” a nickname that would pop up again in London with my roommate Tarv), everywhere I’ve been I think I could be described as a wanderer. Far from the banks of the St. Joe’s River and the forests of suburban Arlington, VA, my wanderings now take me in to the rainforest.

I know, you’re jealous, I am wandering distance from the rainforest, albeit a long and tiring wander. My recent excursion did not yield any new favorite animals (you’re safe for now, Tenrec) and in fact I did not see much wildlife, but I was able to enjoy the solitude and majesty of undisturbed natural rainforest. Well, mostly undisturbed—the area is plagued by tree-cutters and mineral-miners, most of the illegal nature, and I could see evidence of their work. But then that is why a Peace Corps Environment volunteer is here (ahem—me): to both educate about the destructive practices’ consequences and to improve other resources (tree production, farming techniques, and soil restoration) to alleviate pressure on the forest. So I guess it is a catch-22 of sorts; in order to be here and enjoy the beautiful nature, there had to be problems needing to be faced.

Funny how quickly I can digress in to the semi-philosophical, isn’t it? I will close on a more practical note, a request of sorts. If you are sending a letter, or want to but don’t feel comfortable in this digital age committing thoughts to paper (it is surprisingly liberating, I think you’ll find out) and want to include a picture or something, I would love it. Old articles of interest are always entertaining for me to read, and thinks like newspaper crosswords or puzzles are fin distractions )I am currently struggling through an old USA today puzzle page). But I was negligent in bringing photos of family and friends, so if you slipped one in with a letter I’d love to add it to my collection. My sister might be upset, as she is currently featured in all 4 of the photos above my desk and contributed 3 of the 5 picture post cards likewise adorning my room (the others from the McCloske7y and Orfield clans) Send something cool and get mentioned in a blog! Despite Karl Marx’ feelings, competition is a good thing.

Well there will be more to come soon, especially with Independence Day (Madagascar’s), my ¼ century day and 4 month anniversary of arrival of yours truly here on the Red Island all coming up in the next week. Stay tuned!

PS: in reference to the title, I am pretty sure I think already mentioned the Led Zeppelin connection to Mad’Car, but if not: we constructed a kabone (outhouse) at our training site for the community, and painted a large Peace Corps symbol on the side (as well as Malagasy for “welcome” and “enjoy” on the door, “tonga soa” and mazotoa” respectively). On a whim, one volunteer painted Led Zeppelin on the other side, and we all painted a lovely beach scene. It would be a fitting (reunion?) album cover—if you check Brittany’s blog I bet she has pictures!

I Wanna Know Have You Ever Seen the Rain Comin’ Down on a Sunny Day?

(written Friday, June 13, 2008)

Yes, yes I have. As a matter of fact, it happens almost every day here! I know, that’s why they call them RAIN forests, right?

With this entry, I am trying out a new tactic. My Mom has graciously offered to post blogs that I mail to her, since computer access is often a limitation to my postings. The plus to this approach is I can write more frequently and longer, and she can post them when she can. The downside, of course, is that they will be posted at least a month late! But many of my postings were written and posted at different times already. And when I am near a computer and the internet, I cant still post brief “up-to-the-minute” entries here (or on our group blog). I think this system will work well. Maybe if you see a batch posted at once, just read the earliest, then the next day read the next, and the day after that another—it will feel like I’m updating daily!

As for life here, I encountered a new favorite Madagascar animal for the first time a few days ago—the Tenrec. This little insect-eater looks like a hedgehog; the one I saw was Black and Gold (DHHS colors!) and spiny. Cool little guy, and next time I hope to get pictures (pictures also forthcoming here, I promise—I plan to send a batch to the US soon-ish to be posted here). So, lemurs and geckos are cool, but the Tenrec (specifically the highland streaked Tenrec, I think, judging from my wildlife guide) is my current favorite. Of course, by next post, this could (very likely) have changed.

Also recently, while in my banking town, I saw this awesome Malagasy rock band called Ambondrona. Most bands here are real pop-ish and full of synthesizers, but these guys could have been an American rock band (bass, drums, bongos, a real good lead guitarist, rhythm guitar). They had a keyboard player, too, but if Van Halen can do it, then I won’t hold it against Ambondrona! I hope to find a CD to bring back with me.

I have lately been gorging on care package goodies such as pretzels, peanut butter, granola bars, and just as important old reading materials like the Economist and a NFL draft recap—special thanks to my Dad and also Cara and Nolan! And thanks to everyone who has written so far, I love getting mail when I get to my banking town, it is a rush. Hopefully my replies are getting to you in due time (less than a month?)

Yesterday, in my usual random fashion, I may have accidentally volunteered (or “been volunteered”) to participate in a singing competition. Madagascar’s independence day is June 26th, and there is a big Fety (party) to celebrate the end of French Colonial rule. Apparently part of this is a singing event—so I may be singing, in either English (hopefully) or Malagasy (yikes!) in front of my whole community. But then, making a fool of myself is something I have always excelled at, and it is pretty much a requirement in Peace Corps. More to come on this, as it develops.

As for work, the name of the game is flexibility. Planned meetings or projects with farmers often fall through at the last moment, so I tend to play things by ear. I promote eco-friendly farming practices like composting and green manure (growing crops to be used to enrich the soil), all with the intent of increasing yields while keeping inputs low. Sometimes a farmer will want to try a new crop, so I will help him experiment with a small piece of land—minimum risk if things go poorly, but the chance to grow more if the crop is successful. I have heard recently on BBC broadcasts that the food shortage worldwide has prompted renewed interest in Agricultural Development, so it will be interesting to see if that has any effects on practices here. I’m still just getting my feet wet, so I am sure more work-related details will follow soon (successes hopefully, failures likely—but, as a book I read during training, and mentioned to you here already, Two Ears of Corn, puts it: “It seems characteristic of human nature that people learn more effectively from mistakes—their own as well as others’—then from success” Deep, right?)

Well, as the candle burns low, I too should go. Thanks to my Mom for typing these, I hope this new system works well! And thanks to you all for reading, commenting, writing....everything!

PS: Alternative title for this post: “Well I woke UP this Morning, Rainbow Filled the Sky” But the beautiful rainbow I saw today was in the afternoon, and I wouldn’t want to mislead you!

PSS: the words for rain and nose are very similar (orana and orona, respectively), so I get a laugh by saying, “the rain is cold, my nose is cold, everything is cold!” Hmm, maybe it sounds better in Malagasy...or maybe, like back home, they are just humoring me!

Slow Ride, Take it Easy

Well, I have not had many chances to update more regularly here, as you may have noticed. So I am taking a new tactic, and mailing home to my mother a bunch of blog posts for her to put up here all at once. They will be late, but there are some worthwhile stories in there, I promise. Like leading my entire town in the singing of a classic rock anthem. This way, when I am near a computer, I can focus on updating on the spot, but still get the older longer tales up here too. We'll see how it works. Also, I have some friends visiting the States in the fall, so I will probably send back a camera card with photos (and some video perhaps) to upload here. Bear with me, there will be more stuff coming!
As for now, I road a nice 5 hours through mud and slop to get from my site to my banking town for a little birthday celebration with some fellow volunteers. We've had a good time, and it is always fun to spend time with fellow volunteers. Also, as I mentioned before, I am always amazed at the range of people who check in on my adventures here on this blog, and I love seeing everyone's comments and know that you are enjoying my experiences almost as much as I am. Sometimes I'll hear from fellow volunteers that their family enjoys my blog and are regular readers, so it is nice to know I reach a broad audience! On that note, hello Sooka and thanks for making your daughter share her care packages! Okay, that is all for now, hope to talk more soonish! I hope everyone is well, and that life in the US is going great for you all!

I Want to Thank You for Letting Me Be Myself, Again

I just wanted to offer a quick thanks to everyone for posting responses so far to my blog. I always enjoy the comments when I get a chance to read them, and am very appreciative! I will continue to do my best to update when I can, and now you can check the group blog for other details and hopefully pictures from my friends. Misaotra Betsaka! (Malagasy for Thanks Much!)

I again tried and failed on pics, but I swear there will be some sooooon!

When It’s Cold Outside, I got the Month of May

(Written Tuesday 5/20/2008)

Perhaps this song was written in Madagascar, for it is both May and cold outside right now. Certainly not for the whole country, but my site is on a hillside near the rainforest and is constantly cool and windy. Couple this with the fact that we are entering our winter as many of you reading this are beginning summer, and perhaps it makes sense that it is cool and I often wear a sweatshirt on this tropical island. Well, I guess you’d say, what could make me feel this way? Madagascar!

I have been at my site for a few weeks, and am beginning to settle in and learn the lay of the land. Everything here is beautiful: the sunrises over the rainforest, the sunsets over the hilltops, the regular morning calls of the Indri in the rainforest, the different stars at night, the family of geckos guarding my outhouse from flies, the various other animal calls that I cannot identify but still enjoy. But rather than ramble on about these sensations, allow me to ramble on instead about a few recent stories.

My final presentation (which I mentioned last time) on Vetiver went well. I was the last to present, so a large portion of my presentation was spent thanking the few remaining audience members for not leaving (namely my host mother), and acting out erosion with fellow volunteer, um, volunteers. Around the same time, we had our final language assessment, during which I told my tester he looked like Beastie Boy MCA, in Malagasy, which he rightly took as a compliment and I passed the test. We then had a farewell luncheon with our host families, highlighted by a kibary (a Malagasy speech format that emphasizes elaborate apologies – “I am sorry for speaking today because I am not the eldest but the youngest,” “I am sorry for speaking so long,” I am sorry I was asked to speak today, but I will do my best to honor the request”) given by Marshall. He rocked it, and got more laughs from his jokes than all the other kibarys combined (there were a lot).

After that, we spent the next several days bouncing between Tana and the Peace Corps Training Site, wrapping up loose ends mostly. It was during this time that we rocked a karaoke bar and some other fun places. This was also the time of our (in)famous talent show. There were dance-offs, skits, boy bands – for those Sorin College Alumni reading, think the Sorin Talent show, although far less vulgar and offensive. It was all tremendous fun.

Finally it was time for Swearing-In. We had a beautiful outdoor ceremony at a Tana zoo/park, Brendan H. this time gave the kibary, which seemed to focus on a particular incident from one of the less-Mahay trainees – Me! The first morning at site, before leaving my room, I poured water from my filter into a bucket and proceeded to “shower” in my room by pouring the water over myself and (more or less) back into the bucket. It was only when I finished and walked out of my room that my befuddled family showed me where the actual shower was. So this anecdote for a good laugh from all the Lehibes (important Malagasy government people) in attendance – when the American ambassador did not understand the story (which was in beautiful Malagasy Officiel), a Malagasy minister acted it out for him! We then sang an awesome Malagasy original song written by some of the very talented volunteers in our group. After the ceremony, we had lunch at the US Ambassador’s house, which is simply gorgeous. But (even new) Peace Corps Volunteers feel a bit out of place in such luxury, and we were soon on our way to be installed at site, a world away from the ice cubes and pizza and swimming pool that the Ambassador’s residence offered.

I mentioned anticipating hard goodbyes, and they were. But we all went our separate ways to our new homes to begin our adventures. Like I said in a previous post, we are a strong network of support for one another and I look forward to sharing the challenges and rewards of Peace Corps service with my training group. And now we have a group blog site, this should be even easier! Also, when I am slacking on the on the updates, you can read what others in my group are up to.

So I set off for site, along with my banking town buddy Allison. We purchased needed supplies (like a bed, small gas stoves, some buckets) and explored our banking town a bit, then she went to her site. Lastly I was brought to site, and continuing an earlier tradition of eerily fitting songs, I heard “All By Myself” on the radio as we pulled into my town. I settled in and have been learning and exploring ever since. My days have included putting my Vetiver skills to test in my own yard, gathering compost materials, frightening children (not intentionally – well, not always), helping people harvest rice, and convincing people my name is pronounced “Chris” and not ”Vazaha” (Vazaha is a general term for [usually] white foreigners). Still lots to learn (not the least of which is cooking), so I best wrap up. Til next time,

Chris

P.S. Alternate working titles for this post included “I rode for 4 hours then I hit the Spot,” and “When you see the Southern Cross for the First Time.” 4 Hours is how long it takes me to ride to my banking town by bike, but I did not want to remember that tough hilly ride. As for the Southern Cross, I think that is what I am looking at in the sky, but I am not entirely certain.

P.P.S – I am probably going to raise a few ducks and/or geese, mostly for pets and egg production. Ducks/Geese have a few qualities that make them better or easier to raise than chickens: they are more resistant to diseases, they are not picky eaters, they weed plants and pests, and geese even make good “watch dogs.” But what it really comes down to is chickens are annoying, while ducks are pretty much awesome. Just look at all the attention they have received from mass media over the years: DuckTales, Darkwing Duck, Mighty Ducks, Daffy/Donald/Daisy Duck, “Duck, Duck, Goose” (or “Duck, Duck, Gray Duck” for some Minnesota folks), The Ugly Duckling, Howard the Duck… So if you have any good duck names, pass them along (the leaders right now include Drake Mallard, Launchpad McQuack, RoboDuck, Plucky Duck, Mallard Fillmore, Scrooge MacDuck and Mr. Ducksworth. On second thought, it’s Geese names I need!

Will You Take My Picture? Cause I Won't Remember

As I have mentioned before, it takes forever to upload pictures here. I just failed a bunch oftimes, hopfully some other time... So please take a look at other people's sites for some good pictures. I am in Tana now, we finished our training. We hit up a sweet karaoke bar, where I and my friend Brendan (H) rocked out to Blues Brothers SOUL MAN. Good times, we have a bit more un here bore swearing in, so I should get going. Hope all is well!

Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning’s End

(Written Sat. 4/19/08)

Training is wrapping up, and in a little over a week we will all be leaving for our permanent sites as official Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs)! The time here in our training village had flown by, but at the same time I can’t believe it has only been two months. I feel like so much has changed for me since I left the US. Perhaps I should give a recap of my training activities so you can all see what I have been up to here.

Since we all need to be proficient language speakers, we have had to do a lot of activities in Malagasy. I have given a presentation on the Bonara tree (Albizia Lebbek), a cool nitrogen-fixing tree used for erosion control. I gave a second presentation on a cool form of charcoal made from dead grass to preserve wood while still providing energy. And I have a final presentation in a few days on Vetiver, an awesome erosion-controlling type of grass. Also, with Tara & Austin, I taught a class at the primary school on Erosion. As you may have guessed, erosion is a huge problem here, in Madagascar (Aerial images show Madagasar apparently ‘bleeding’ because the red soil is all eroding into the rivers and being taken out to sea).

We have worked on lots of projects in our technical training, including: gardening, composting, building improved cookstoves, planting trees and vetiver as erosion control / prevention, teaching environmental education, solar cookers, tree nurseries, etc. Hopefully I can put a lot of these skills to use and eventually post pictures of what I do at site.

Also, just this past week, we finally got to the rainforest. We saw some amazing chameleons and lemurs. I want to upload some pictures here, but as usual other people are more “Mahay” * at phots than I am, so check out some of the other blogs for better shots. I am going to add some more blogs, including some of the SED (Small Enterprise Development) volunteers, so you can read about all the cool people here and the great stuff they will be doing.

My fellow volunteers and I have been training with really are amazing. I was not expecting to form such a strong bond with so many of them, but we all get along well and I think we have already enhanced each other’s experiences. It will be tough to leave such a great group, but I think we can all find solace in the fact that we are finally going off to do what we signed up for: exciting, challenging development work immersed in a foreign culture and community. Plus we can all visit and support one another throughout our service.

I went a little off-topic there, as is my style. I have also had lots of time to read. Mostly it is technical books, like finding trees good for firewood that are also leguminous [nitrogen-fixing] – say, Albizia Lebbek, for instance. Or which trees are En Vogue in the development world and how useful they really are - like Moringa or Jatropha. I have also been reading real books, like A Farewell to Arms and The Brothers Karamazov. If you come across anything you think I should read, whether it is a book or magazine/newspaper article or internet story, please send it my way! In return, I have a recommendation if you have any interest in agricultural development or want a better idea of the concepts behind my type of work here. It is a book I read through quickly and loved called Two Ears of Corn by Roland Bunch. It gives an awesome view of the philosophy of “sustainable” rural development. Worth checking out if you have any interest in the subject.

Well that wraps up another installment here. Any letters to my old address will be forwarded to me, so don’t fret about that (or use it as an excuse for not writing!) Also happy birFday to the Mac Attack, your quarter-century is tomorrow, even though this won’t be posted til well afterwards. Live it up Kid!

*Mahay – pronounced “Ma-Hi” – Malagasy verb used in many different ways. Basically it means “to know” but it can also mean “smart” or “to be smart,” like someone who is awesome at farming rice would be “Mahay Mamboly Vary” (Mamboly=to farm and Vary=rice). Mahay is a great word, especially when used in Englasy/Malagasish combos like the “Mahay Five”, our local version of the high five. Haptic Closure Baby.

Cause Once in a While You get Shown in the Light in the Strangest of Places if you Look at it Right

(Written Sat 4/5/08)

Lots to cover, as usual, but first a quick shout-out to DWheels: Many thanks for the tunes. I am quite grateful. On a related note, bonus points to those who recognize the title lyrics…

Many people mention the numerous rewards of Peace Corps, such as meeting new people, exchanging cultural ideas and practices, learning a new language, acquiring life skills, etc. In reality, the best rewards are often found in unexpected places or during seemingly mundane activities that produce moments of profound clarity. During these moments, I cannot help but goofily smile and marvel at being here. Some of these rewarding moments: tossing the football (American) with my host brother; giving high-fives to all the little kids here (although many, especially the older kids, prefer the fist-pound); finding myself giving a speech and an interview on Malagasy radio (more on this shortly); writing a letter* describing the day’s activities by candlelight; washing my clothes in the river by myself as the sun sets; successfully making small talk and cracking jokes with Malagasy cab drivers; giving an impromptu history lesson on colonization and the struggle for independence in the world to my host family over dinner…

One such moment stands out in my mind and prompted this entry. I was returning from my site visit (each trainee spent a few days at their respective permanent sites, aka where we will be for the next 2 years), travelling in a crowded taxi-brousse (taxi-brousse is the term for cars or vans that transport lots of people from city to city, like a bus. In this case, think of a large van [similar to the DangeVan for Madison people] packed with people) along a small, windy dirt road in the countryside. Suddenly, none other than “We are the World” comes on the radio. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer, travelling with a bunch of Malagasy in the countryside of Madagascar, listening to celebrities sing about the need to help our fellow man and create a better world – it was pretty surreal. It could have been a Peace Corps commercial. It was cheesy, and awesome, and a little inspiring. Needless to say, I was smiling and singing along, albeit under my breath. And yes, I got chills when Bruce Springsteen’s part came on. A very cool and unexpected moment.

A little more about site visit. I will be in a small town working with a farmer’s Co-Op and the community. The Co-Op recently launched a local radio station that broadcasts throughout the nearby rainforest corridor. When I arrived, they took me to the small station house and suddenly asked me to give an introductory speech on the radio (in Malagasy of course). Unprepared, I stammered a brief personal introduction, mentioning my name, the Peace Corps and the work I will be doing. After a few more sentences, I returned the mic, thinking I was done. But they had questions for me! It was a bit nerve-racking, but pretty brief and a lot of fun. Afterwards, I hung around the station, They play Malagasy music interrupted with environmental information and agricultural techniques. It reminded me of many Saturday mornings in DC, because we were all gathered around watching the accompanying music videos. Yet another example of our universal similarities, no? I may end up with some regular radio appearances, so perhaps I can play some American music for cultural exchange purposes!

My house at site is very nice, situated on a hillside that over looks the rice paddies and beyond that the start of the rainforest corridor. I have some gardening space, 2 spacious rooms, and even a doghouse (a previous volunteer left behind a very cool dog named Cookis). There is no electricity or cell phone reception, but both are available in my banking town, as well as internet access. My banking town, which is large and more “metropolitan,” is about 50 Km away (though due to a bad road it takes 3-4 hours by car), and I should be able to visit there every month or so for banking, picking up/sending off mail*, internet, etc. On the whole, my site is cool and I am excited to move there permanently when training ends, less than a month from now.

Hopefully these updates are proving informative to you all, although I regret my inability to properly convey all that I am experiencing here. Perhaps you will just have to visit?

* Since I am moving to my permanent site soon, I have a new mailing address:
Chris Planicka
BP 31
Ambatondrazaka 503
Madagascar

I’ve got Friends in Low Places…

My house at my training site

Sweet pic eh? It took like an hour to load... Well as promised, here are some fellow trainees’ blogsites. Special thanks to Katie for letting me use her computer to pre-type the below post. We are going to visit our sites this weekend and early next week, so I am pretty excited. Hope to post again soon. Until then, enjoy the sites on the right…

Emancipate Yourselves from Mental Slavery, None but Ourselves Can Free Our Minds…

…Redemption Songs…

(Written Sat. 3/22/08)

Aside from being an awesome lyric and something of a general encouragement to all of you reading this, what does the title above have to do with anything? Simple – this post is my redemption song. *

Why redemption? Well my last post was quite brief and sparse. It really lacked that certain “style” (or “rambling”) so many of you have come to expect from my writings. My excuse is the French keyboards that greeted me at the internet café in Tana. I was unprepared, and it took me a very long time to type out those 2 entries. So this time I am planning ahead and writing BEFORE I get to Tana. Hopefully this will expedite the process, and not rob you all of that Planicka-eccentricity,

Since my last post, we have been studying language and agricultural techniques. A couple of highlights:

-While in Tana, we visited Akany Avoko. This is a children’s home in the city that is simply amazing. They work primarily with orphaned girls, instilling in them confidence and values along with an excellent education. Also impressive were the many eco-friendly features of the school. These included solar showers, solar cookers, biofuel outhouses, rainwater collection systems… very cool stuff. Akany Avoko also produces unique handmade crafts (including beautiful recycled paper). All around, an awesome place.

-Also while in Tana, we traveled to a nearby PCV’s site. After a day of hands-on agricultural training, we had a party with the local farmers’ group. This was very fun, as we learned dances and listened to their band (consisiting of guitars, drums… and an accordion!). At one point they even played “By the rivers of Babylon,” which reminded me of Sublime/Bob Marley, even though it was quite a different style. [Speaking of, Bob Marley goes over very well here. Someone even heard a Malagasy version of Redemption Song on the radio]

-One last Tana-related story: we had a session on MAP – Madagascar Action Plan. This is a very cool and groundbreaking document. Why? Well, aside from having the same initials as my sister (who is too busy gallivanting around Europe right now to even read this!), the MAP is an ambitious set of goals for the country. It includes agricultural and environment/conservation goals (making Madagascar the first, and perhaps only, country to specifically target the environment and conservation). The MAP really is worth a look, so check it out if you have a chance.

Alright, now for some more details on training and my daily life in Madagascar. In our training group (called a “stage” – pronounced “staaj” for some reason), we have 32 total volunteers… or, trainees (we are Peace Corps Trainees, PCTs, until the end of training when we become PCVs). There are 27 environmental volunteers and 5 SED (Small Enterprise Document) volunteers. We come from all over the country, although oddly there are 4 volunteers from CA and 4 from MN. There are 3 married couples. We have 2 Brendans, 2 Julias, 2 Chris-es, 2 Cor(ie/ey)s, 2 Katherines… just to keep things confusing. All told, we are a pretty awesome group, and we will be serving all over the island so our stories will be interesting and varied. I will try to add some of their sites here to provide some further insight into Peace Corps Madagascar. Then you can see that everyone is (at least) as nutty and random as I am [meant in the best possible way] – there is even a guy from MI who picks up on my obscure Beastie Boys references (something of an alternate reality Elsen perhaps, had he stayed in Michigan?) **

The candle is dying, so it must be time to wrap it up. We are visiting our sites soon, so I am excited to see my home for 2 years. My site is in the eastern rainforest corridor, not too far from Tana. Sorry to be so vague, but Peace Corps does not want site information posted on the internet for security reasons. I can provide more details if you write me (Letters) so consider this added incentive!

* I realize certain people (Ahem-Mom) will have no idea what these titles are. Don’t worry too much about it, I just enjoy the song lyrics that somewhat fit my mood. Plus I think a select few will enjoy the references (Brent, Ryan, Mark, Doug, Mike, etc. etc. – you know who you are)

** There is also a female volunteer who has a friend in the States that is eating her weight in bacon as a tribute while she serves here. I won’t hold any of you to such a high standard, but please do indulge in such unavailable delicacies as bacon, pepperoni, salsa, cheese, ice cream, etc. for me