Remember the TV show ‘FACT or FICTION’ with that guy who played ‘No. 2’ from Star Trak as the host. …need I say more…..hah, enjoy!
I’m still safe, but my future here isn’t clear. Here are some news articles on what has been going on here.
http://english.china.com/zh_cn/news/international/11020308/20090207/15313669.html
http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090208/wl_afp/madagascarpolitics_20090208210806
http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/africa/02/08/madagascar.violence/index.html?section=cnn_latest
Fact or Fiction?
Why doesn’t Marc Ravalomanana have Andry Rajoelina killed or even arrested?
Good question…People say its because they are ‘related.’ Apparently Andry had a relationship with Marc’s daughter—in fact they have a child together, which means the Marc is the grandfather of Andry’s child. Andry’s been trying to gain acceptance/approval from his much wealthier and successful Father-in-law ever since (Andry was a poor no-body when he fell ‘in-love’ with Marc’s daughter—explains his determination). Friends here believe this story to be…FACT.
‘’Look how thin the President looks!’’
We heard this said last night when the President (Marc. R.) was giving a speech addressing the public about the now 28 dead and hundreds reported wounded. In fact, people have been saying that the President isn’t the President (i.e. the ‘real’ Marc R.). Marc R. is well educated and no idiot—after all he did build a national multi-million dollar dairy corporation, which he started by selling yogurt from a cart on the streets of Tana. The current Marc R. is actually his less successful younger brother, who secretly had the old Marc. R. assassinated and has taken over the role of President. Marc. R.’s younger brother did run in the Mayoral Race against Andry back in 2007 and he is still bitter about the loss—contributing to the explanation for the current situation the country finds itself in. Friends here aren’t sure about this one and are a little hesitant about claiming it to be true…….FICTION.
Stirring-up the Ethnic Pot
Andry Rajoelina appointed 43-year-old Zafitsimivalo Monja Roindefo, the son of a well-known Madagascan nationalist Monja Jaona, as prime minister of the transitional government on Saturday. Monja Roindefo and his father are Antondroy (a southern ethnic group) that represents some of the poorest people in Madagascar. The region is currently suffering from a draught—thus, poor and hungry. Peace Corps Volunteers who live in the area have been told by friends that they consider the shootings personal (because Monja Roindefo was involved). It’s not clear what any of this means or what the implications will be. Today (Monday) is a meeting in Abovembe—a Antondroy regional hub…this one is….FACT
My situation….I was told in a cryptic Peace Corps text message sent yesterday that our future here is ‘cloudier than ever’ and that they are doing further consolidations (not sure what this means—maybe moving people closer to airports??) It seems our 'waiting game' has just been extended, which only dampens our moods and adds to our frustrations.
I feel for these people—they are frustrated and have no voice. What little voice they had—through peaceful demonstrations, have now turned violent and 28 people are now dead.
God, things are definately ‘cloudy.’
Feb 8, 2009
Feb 3, 2009
The news today…remains unknown (its early here), but I can tell you about yesterday.
Yesterday, late in the day we got a call from Peace Corps saying that we should expect to stay at Consolidation Points until the weekend. If demonstrations remain peaceful (as they have the last few days) we will go back to site, but remain on ‘high alert.’ (this means that once at site we would need to stay in daily contact with Peace Corps). The President (the elected one) made a visit to the Ft. Dauphin airport yesterday and gave a speech, which was an opportunity to demonstrate that he is still in ‘control.’
I wrote this early yesterday, but didn’t get to post it…
1/3/09
Yes, It’s Groundhog Day….and….Yes, It’s a ‘Coup.’
So…the ‘self-proclaimed’ leader of Madagascar (ie the Mayor of Tana) is beginning to pick his team for the creation of the ‘transitional’ government he is planning to institute. He will begin a regional tour of Madagascar to energize and stimulate support. The ‘President’ (ie the elected one) is in Africa at a meeting with the African Union—the Union has his support and full backing. Schools are open today, and people are for the most part back at work. Prices are starting to increase, especially oil—cooking and automotive. We seem to be at a standstill, playing the ‘wait and see’ game. Peace Corps has told us to plan on staying at CP (Consolation points) a few more days, until they gain a little more clarity on the situation and what will happen.
I’ve been telling friends about how I use to think those ‘luxury prisons’ they send white collar criminals to were just on big joke….this situation has forced me to reexamine that opinion. This whole experience has been stressful, frustrating, and a bit torturous. The only information we get are cryptic test messages once a day telling us about how the situation is ‘calm but tense’….’remains fluid’….and we are told…’keep a low profile’….’standby’…..’Stay alert.’
NEW RULE among PCVs in Ft. Dauphin: Don’t talk about it. We have no control over our eventual outcome. Let’s enjoy the Beach!
I wrote this early yesterday, but didn’t get to post it…
1/3/09
Yes, It’s Groundhog Day….and….Yes, It’s a ‘Coup.’
So…the ‘self-proclaimed’ leader of Madagascar (ie the Mayor of Tana) is beginning to pick his team for the creation of the ‘transitional’ government he is planning to institute. He will begin a regional tour of Madagascar to energize and stimulate support. The ‘President’ (ie the elected one) is in Africa at a meeting with the African Union—the Union has his support and full backing. Schools are open today, and people are for the most part back at work. Prices are starting to increase, especially oil—cooking and automotive. We seem to be at a standstill, playing the ‘wait and see’ game. Peace Corps has told us to plan on staying at CP (Consolation points) a few more days, until they gain a little more clarity on the situation and what will happen.
I’ve been telling friends about how I use to think those ‘luxury prisons’ they send white collar criminals to were just on big joke….this situation has forced me to reexamine that opinion. This whole experience has been stressful, frustrating, and a bit torturous. The only information we get are cryptic test messages once a day telling us about how the situation is ‘calm but tense’….’remains fluid’….and we are told…’keep a low profile’….’standby’…..’Stay alert.’
NEW RULE among PCVs in Ft. Dauphin: Don’t talk about it. We have no control over our eventual outcome. Let’s enjoy the Beach!
Feb 1, 2009
Update
Here is a good article that sums up the situation here.. But I do NOT like the first sentence/paragraph (its a bit insenstive...cultural and racial)
http://www.iht.com/articles/2009/02/01/africa/madag.4-420685.php?page=1
Things seem calm, nothing big happened here in Ft. Dauphin over the weekend, despite the many rumors going around. I was told by a shop owner to avoid the Market Saturday afternoon. He claimed people would raid and loot the rice silos. This never happened. Sunday morning was a meeting with local politicians. For the most part people here support the Mayor, but under the constitution the Mayor is "a criminal" and should be excuted for treason. The current President was elected by the people. He still is...under the law...the President. Everyone for the most part feels that this is far from over (now being the "eye" of the storm)...I hope they are all wrong. I have heard reports of the military illgally taking 20 billion ar from the central bank, creating some concerns over the current banking system. Again, we wait and see. All the Peace Corps volunteers I am with feel (and hope) that this remains a peaceful political issue/dispute, at which point we would be able to return to are sites under the status of being on "high alert." For now..we remain consolidated, recieving little news and info. Its stressful and tension is high among all of us.
Ill try and keep you all updated
http://www.iht.com/articles/2009/02/01/africa/madag.4-420685.php?page=1
Things seem calm, nothing big happened here in Ft. Dauphin over the weekend, despite the many rumors going around. I was told by a shop owner to avoid the Market Saturday afternoon. He claimed people would raid and loot the rice silos. This never happened. Sunday morning was a meeting with local politicians. For the most part people here support the Mayor, but under the constitution the Mayor is "a criminal" and should be excuted for treason. The current President was elected by the people. He still is...under the law...the President. Everyone for the most part feels that this is far from over (now being the "eye" of the storm)...I hope they are all wrong. I have heard reports of the military illgally taking 20 billion ar from the central bank, creating some concerns over the current banking system. Again, we wait and see. All the Peace Corps volunteers I am with feel (and hope) that this remains a peaceful political issue/dispute, at which point we would be able to return to are sites under the status of being on "high alert." For now..we remain consolidated, recieving little news and info. Its stressful and tension is high among all of us.
Ill try and keep you all updated
Jan 30, 2009
‘‘Yea man, it’s true''
‘‘Yea man, it’s true; he has been stealing money and taking land. All the News, he tells them what to say. None of it…It’s not true. The people don’t like him man’’
My heart sank when a friend said these words to me yesterday while sitting around a table over a bottle of rum in Ebakika (the next village north from St. Luce). We stopped in Ebakika because we needed to make arrangements with the village regarding tree planting next month (we are planting 24,000 trees, many native). The rum…an inviting cultural gesture by the Chief of the Village.
I was on my way to Ft. Dauphin because Peace Corps has ‘consolidated’ us because of current political unrest. The article below does a better job than I could on the details of the current situation we face here. Please know that I am safe!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20090130/wl_nm/us_madagascar_protests_1
The following is my journal from this last month. A friend over-vacation told me that my ‘blog’ was a bit depressing. I apologize if it comes across that way…Writing seems to have become an excellent outlet for the stress I experience and wonderful tool for me to process what is going on around me.
1/8/09
Out and Back
The ‘out and back’ was my least favorite run. I cringed when the words would come out of coach’s mouth. The sheer thought of running 45-50 minutes on a straight flat trail, knowing that when the watch hit ‘the mark,’ I needed to turn around and do it all over again. The general rue—going is always easier than coming back and that rule defiantly applies to my little trip across the ‘belly’ of the south (i.e. Tulear), referring mainly to the transportation of course. A three day journey that is mostly non-stop with the exception of a few hours sleep during one night (which I later learned was a luxury). My ‘wheels’…a Camion—a military truck that had the roof and seating of a school bus. Benches made of wood and packed tight with people.
The trip going out, as expected wasn’t bad. The ride was equipped with music and a light (also a luxury) but doing anything other than staring, sleeping, or engaging in light conversation was impossible. The road across southern Madagascar (R10) is one of the worst. On a few occasions I was amazed that our vehicle managed to stay ‘up-right’ as it navigated around deep holes, debris, and through water that reached far above the wheel-well at times.
Bruised with feet swollen the size of softballs. I did finally arrive in Tulear.
My List of Favorite Moments
1- Getting out of my little corner of the island. I got to drive through most of my friends’ sites (those that ‘bank’ or get money in Fort Dauphin). Its a beautiful country, filled with beautiful people.
2- My New Years—What do you get when you mix a bunch of Rastafarians and Peace Corps Volunteers together on a beach with a fire, a guitar, drums, and a roasted goat. A Good Time!
3- Christmas Breakfast (the Madagascar equivalent to a Denny’s Grand Slam) followed by a Banana Split (No Lie!) DELICIOUS!
4- Epic seaside battle between Flipper Boy (me) and the evil Dr. Able (Ryan Marsh). His technology will never be able to match a high flipper kick/upper cut/followed by a forward motion dauphin kick. (Unfortunately it was one of those moments; you just had to be there!)
5- Maureen telling the story of how I shouted ‘’I’m a Dauphin!’’ while continually diving in and out of water—apparently I managed to interrupt the romantic sun-set being enjoyed by a French couple and the looks on both faces--annoyance and puzzlement were priceless.
6- Movie Mania: The Dark Night, Happy Feet, The Happening (made me miss PA), and Last King of Scotland…oh yes, I must not forget! ‘DRAINAGE! DRAINAGE, ELI!’ ….There Will Be Blood.
7- Snorkeling in the 4th largest coral reef in the world (I think…?)
8- Coco Punch, Café Punch, Sunrise Punch….I tried them all…twice.
9- An intense game of Sof Boccie on the Beach—Its like regular Boccie, only ‘you can play it anywhere. Inside, outside, in the dorm room, or on a table…..’
10- Getting the DJ at a popular night club to play ’Tsara Taolgnaro’ by DaDah de Fort Dauphen and showing the Veso what the Antanosy are all about….
The ride home…far less enjoyable, I was stuck in Tulear an extra night and sat at the station most of the next day—finally leaving at night. Our ride was packed with bags of rice and beans under or feet making an already uncomfortable wooden bench unbearable. We stopped (or broke down) in every town along the way. The journey ended 5k from Fort Dauphin when our ride ran out of gas. I hitched a ride with an aid worker the last 5k.
Overall a great trip! I’m happy I did it! I needed to remove myself from my very small pocket/world on the island.
1/8/09
Untitled
I finally caught that rat that has been living in my roof. I have a rat trap (think oversized mouse trap) and its effective—I’ve killed six to date. But the one I got last night was not only the largest I’ve seen (think small cat), but my trap wasn’t so effective on it. The trap clipped its front leg pinning the Rat it a position that prevented it from being able to free itself.
I had to kill it—I crushed its head with a rock this morning. A task I didn’t find enjoyable.
1/12/09
Moringa, Sales, and New Religious Movements—they all have something in common.
Today as I was walking from Amboandrika (my village) to Manafiafy (the village by the sea), I was continually stopped along the way by people asking about the trees I was carrying in my tanty (think hand-bag?..but much more socially acceptable here for a male to be carrying) and I started to realize that my work with Moringa is no different than a Salesman selling a product, or even a Prophet (or self-proclaimed prophet) recruiting individuals to join a cult religion (New Religious Movement is the more suitable term). When in college I took a Sociology course on New Religious Movements and I remember learning about a simple sociological theory which attempted to explain why people join or get mixed-up with such movements. The name of the theory I can’t remember, but I do remember it was based on a model of gradual socialization. On the fact that people who join cults join them because they have a friend or relative coerce them in attending an event or ceremony initially. At first they usually don’t believe it, they are hesitant and even skeptical of what they hear. But slowly as time goes by and they are continually listening to the religious rhetoric of friends, family, and charismatic individuals they begin to think otherwise. It’s a slow process—it takes time, but an effective way of creating a base (so the theory goes). You start small—with one person by slowly building trust and that person tells a friend, who also tells a friend. Thus, creating a (hopefully in the case of Moringa) a self propelled ‘’snow-ball effect.’’
Today when I returned home from my ‘Sales’ Trip, I stopped to visit a friend, who without any encouragement, help, or coercion was sitting on the floor of her hut picking Moringa Leaves to add to her vary sosoa (watered-rice). At the immediate site of this, two things crossed my mind (the first a thought and the second a feeling).
1-I never thought to even ‘preached’ to people that they should add Moringa Leaves to watered rice (Innovation! Brilliant!)
2-A slight feeling of hope, although small—I’ll take whatever I can get.
Today I made a Sale! I’ll end with a popular quote from the father who built his career in the sales industry. While growing-up when these words were uttered as he walked through the door it usually meant he had a ‘good day.’
‘’I be the Man!’’
1/16/09
Hidden Agenda
Development….sometimes I feel like it’s just the ‘nice’ bow that’s placed on something much deeper. Peace Corps is without a doubt in America’s best interest, sending mostly young Americans abroad and in two years time getting in return a individual with international experience working in and living among the poor. Many Returned Peace Corps Volunteers choice to pursue careers in foreign policy (State Dept. or USAID), or get graduate degrees and pursue careers contributing greatly to both the private and non-private sectors.
My NGO is no different—they use terms like ‘client’ and ‘package’ when it comes to providing people (clients) with a quality volunteer experience.
So what? Why does this eat at me?
I think it’s because when you peel all this ‘shit’ away at the core are people. Individual lives’, livelihoods’, and futures’.
My neighbors don’t own their land…legally. Sure, they farm it; build on it; plant papaya and coco trees. They also raise their children on it. But in an office 45k south sitting in a file cabinet is a piece of paper (or land deed) and its not in their name. It’s in the name of some guy who 15 years prior decided it would be a good investment to start buying up land. At any point this person can decide to build, farm, or just take claim possession of what is legally theirs. Literally pulling the ‘rug’ from under peoples’ feet (or lives).
How can you ever be expected to climb any ladder without ever having firm ground to put it on first?
1/20/09
Untitiled
My response to friends/NGO who are amazed and equally angry at the face that people do take wood from the well marked and well known ‘protected areas.’
‘’It happens…ever get a parking violation, litter along a highway, or urinate in public?’’ (I know I have received and done all three numerous times)
1/23/09
I just ate a watermelon that I grew from seed. It amazes me that I was able to produce a fruit of that size from a seed that was so small. It brings a sense of accomplishment that rivals no other.
1/26/09
Last Monday at market I watched as people traded baskets of leaves for cash. A kilo of leaves for 200ar. I was told that leaves are used for medicine and they grow naturally in the area, where do they go? First to Ft. Dauphin to be packaged, and then on a boat heading for china where they are…processed into some pill…made into some type of tea…an anti-acid elixir…? I’ll never know…
According to people around here the local name of the plant is ‘tonga’ and used for stomach ailments.
1/29/09
Consolidation
I got a phone call from Peace Corps today with instructions that we are in ‘consolidation’ phase. This means ‘get to Ft. Dauphin ASAP.’ I’ve heard that things are getting heated in the nation’s capital. Riots, looting, and the destruction of the headquarters of MBS (Madagascar Broadcasting System)—which all ties into unresolved political disputes (mainly true or untrue accusations) revolving around the current Madagascar President and the current Mayor of Tana (the capital).
‘Consolidation’ is one step away from evacuation and the thought of leaving St. Luce now at this point in my service in a bit painful. I don’t think and desperately hope it’s a situation I will have to face. But, I have very little idea of what is really going on and how serious the situation really is here. The only issue experienced in St. Luce as the result of all this is that I no longer have 3 radio stations to choose from. Life is going on as if nothing is happening. I have no idea how this is going to end…..
My heart sank when a friend said these words to me yesterday while sitting around a table over a bottle of rum in Ebakika (the next village north from St. Luce). We stopped in Ebakika because we needed to make arrangements with the village regarding tree planting next month (we are planting 24,000 trees, many native). The rum…an inviting cultural gesture by the Chief of the Village.
I was on my way to Ft. Dauphin because Peace Corps has ‘consolidated’ us because of current political unrest. The article below does a better job than I could on the details of the current situation we face here. Please know that I am safe!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20090130/wl_nm/us_madagascar_protests_1
The following is my journal from this last month. A friend over-vacation told me that my ‘blog’ was a bit depressing. I apologize if it comes across that way…Writing seems to have become an excellent outlet for the stress I experience and wonderful tool for me to process what is going on around me.
1/8/09
Out and Back
The ‘out and back’ was my least favorite run. I cringed when the words would come out of coach’s mouth. The sheer thought of running 45-50 minutes on a straight flat trail, knowing that when the watch hit ‘the mark,’ I needed to turn around and do it all over again. The general rue—going is always easier than coming back and that rule defiantly applies to my little trip across the ‘belly’ of the south (i.e. Tulear), referring mainly to the transportation of course. A three day journey that is mostly non-stop with the exception of a few hours sleep during one night (which I later learned was a luxury). My ‘wheels’…a Camion—a military truck that had the roof and seating of a school bus. Benches made of wood and packed tight with people.
The trip going out, as expected wasn’t bad. The ride was equipped with music and a light (also a luxury) but doing anything other than staring, sleeping, or engaging in light conversation was impossible. The road across southern Madagascar (R10) is one of the worst. On a few occasions I was amazed that our vehicle managed to stay ‘up-right’ as it navigated around deep holes, debris, and through water that reached far above the wheel-well at times.
Bruised with feet swollen the size of softballs. I did finally arrive in Tulear.
My List of Favorite Moments
1- Getting out of my little corner of the island. I got to drive through most of my friends’ sites (those that ‘bank’ or get money in Fort Dauphin). Its a beautiful country, filled with beautiful people.
2- My New Years—What do you get when you mix a bunch of Rastafarians and Peace Corps Volunteers together on a beach with a fire, a guitar, drums, and a roasted goat. A Good Time!
3- Christmas Breakfast (the Madagascar equivalent to a Denny’s Grand Slam) followed by a Banana Split (No Lie!) DELICIOUS!
4- Epic seaside battle between Flipper Boy (me) and the evil Dr. Able (Ryan Marsh). His technology will never be able to match a high flipper kick/upper cut/followed by a forward motion dauphin kick. (Unfortunately it was one of those moments; you just had to be there!)
5- Maureen telling the story of how I shouted ‘’I’m a Dauphin!’’ while continually diving in and out of water—apparently I managed to interrupt the romantic sun-set being enjoyed by a French couple and the looks on both faces--annoyance and puzzlement were priceless.
6- Movie Mania: The Dark Night, Happy Feet, The Happening (made me miss PA), and Last King of Scotland…oh yes, I must not forget! ‘DRAINAGE! DRAINAGE, ELI!’ ….There Will Be Blood.
7- Snorkeling in the 4th largest coral reef in the world (I think…?)
8- Coco Punch, Café Punch, Sunrise Punch….I tried them all…twice.
9- An intense game of Sof Boccie on the Beach—Its like regular Boccie, only ‘you can play it anywhere. Inside, outside, in the dorm room, or on a table…..’
10- Getting the DJ at a popular night club to play ’Tsara Taolgnaro’ by DaDah de Fort Dauphen and showing the Veso what the Antanosy are all about….
The ride home…far less enjoyable, I was stuck in Tulear an extra night and sat at the station most of the next day—finally leaving at night. Our ride was packed with bags of rice and beans under or feet making an already uncomfortable wooden bench unbearable. We stopped (or broke down) in every town along the way. The journey ended 5k from Fort Dauphin when our ride ran out of gas. I hitched a ride with an aid worker the last 5k.
Overall a great trip! I’m happy I did it! I needed to remove myself from my very small pocket/world on the island.
1/8/09
Untitled
I finally caught that rat that has been living in my roof. I have a rat trap (think oversized mouse trap) and its effective—I’ve killed six to date. But the one I got last night was not only the largest I’ve seen (think small cat), but my trap wasn’t so effective on it. The trap clipped its front leg pinning the Rat it a position that prevented it from being able to free itself.
I had to kill it—I crushed its head with a rock this morning. A task I didn’t find enjoyable.
1/12/09
Moringa, Sales, and New Religious Movements—they all have something in common.
Today as I was walking from Amboandrika (my village) to Manafiafy (the village by the sea), I was continually stopped along the way by people asking about the trees I was carrying in my tanty (think hand-bag?..but much more socially acceptable here for a male to be carrying) and I started to realize that my work with Moringa is no different than a Salesman selling a product, or even a Prophet (or self-proclaimed prophet) recruiting individuals to join a cult religion (New Religious Movement is the more suitable term). When in college I took a Sociology course on New Religious Movements and I remember learning about a simple sociological theory which attempted to explain why people join or get mixed-up with such movements. The name of the theory I can’t remember, but I do remember it was based on a model of gradual socialization. On the fact that people who join cults join them because they have a friend or relative coerce them in attending an event or ceremony initially. At first they usually don’t believe it, they are hesitant and even skeptical of what they hear. But slowly as time goes by and they are continually listening to the religious rhetoric of friends, family, and charismatic individuals they begin to think otherwise. It’s a slow process—it takes time, but an effective way of creating a base (so the theory goes). You start small—with one person by slowly building trust and that person tells a friend, who also tells a friend. Thus, creating a (hopefully in the case of Moringa) a self propelled ‘’snow-ball effect.’’
Today when I returned home from my ‘Sales’ Trip, I stopped to visit a friend, who without any encouragement, help, or coercion was sitting on the floor of her hut picking Moringa Leaves to add to her vary sosoa (watered-rice). At the immediate site of this, two things crossed my mind (the first a thought and the second a feeling).
1-I never thought to even ‘preached’ to people that they should add Moringa Leaves to watered rice (Innovation! Brilliant!)
2-A slight feeling of hope, although small—I’ll take whatever I can get.
Today I made a Sale! I’ll end with a popular quote from the father who built his career in the sales industry. While growing-up when these words were uttered as he walked through the door it usually meant he had a ‘good day.’
‘’I be the Man!’’
1/16/09
Hidden Agenda
Development….sometimes I feel like it’s just the ‘nice’ bow that’s placed on something much deeper. Peace Corps is without a doubt in America’s best interest, sending mostly young Americans abroad and in two years time getting in return a individual with international experience working in and living among the poor. Many Returned Peace Corps Volunteers choice to pursue careers in foreign policy (State Dept. or USAID), or get graduate degrees and pursue careers contributing greatly to both the private and non-private sectors.
My NGO is no different—they use terms like ‘client’ and ‘package’ when it comes to providing people (clients) with a quality volunteer experience.
So what? Why does this eat at me?
I think it’s because when you peel all this ‘shit’ away at the core are people. Individual lives’, livelihoods’, and futures’.
My neighbors don’t own their land…legally. Sure, they farm it; build on it; plant papaya and coco trees. They also raise their children on it. But in an office 45k south sitting in a file cabinet is a piece of paper (or land deed) and its not in their name. It’s in the name of some guy who 15 years prior decided it would be a good investment to start buying up land. At any point this person can decide to build, farm, or just take claim possession of what is legally theirs. Literally pulling the ‘rug’ from under peoples’ feet (or lives).
How can you ever be expected to climb any ladder without ever having firm ground to put it on first?
1/20/09
Untitiled
My response to friends/NGO who are amazed and equally angry at the face that people do take wood from the well marked and well known ‘protected areas.’
‘’It happens…ever get a parking violation, litter along a highway, or urinate in public?’’ (I know I have received and done all three numerous times)
1/23/09
I just ate a watermelon that I grew from seed. It amazes me that I was able to produce a fruit of that size from a seed that was so small. It brings a sense of accomplishment that rivals no other.
1/26/09
Last Monday at market I watched as people traded baskets of leaves for cash. A kilo of leaves for 200ar. I was told that leaves are used for medicine and they grow naturally in the area, where do they go? First to Ft. Dauphin to be packaged, and then on a boat heading for china where they are…processed into some pill…made into some type of tea…an anti-acid elixir…? I’ll never know…
According to people around here the local name of the plant is ‘tonga’ and used for stomach ailments.
1/29/09
Consolidation
I got a phone call from Peace Corps today with instructions that we are in ‘consolidation’ phase. This means ‘get to Ft. Dauphin ASAP.’ I’ve heard that things are getting heated in the nation’s capital. Riots, looting, and the destruction of the headquarters of MBS (Madagascar Broadcasting System)—which all ties into unresolved political disputes (mainly true or untrue accusations) revolving around the current Madagascar President and the current Mayor of Tana (the capital).
‘Consolidation’ is one step away from evacuation and the thought of leaving St. Luce now at this point in my service in a bit painful. I don’t think and desperately hope it’s a situation I will have to face. But, I have very little idea of what is really going on and how serious the situation really is here. The only issue experienced in St. Luce as the result of all this is that I no longer have 3 radio stations to choose from. Life is going on as if nothing is happening. I have no idea how this is going to end…..
Dec 17, 2008
Heat, Giardia, and Fish
The three things that sum up this past month at site. It’s been hot and some days unbearably humid. My day starts earlier and earlier (4am is now the norm), but life seems to slow from 11am to 3pm.
During my last trip back from Ft. Dauphin I brought back an unwanted guest in my gut, which caused a continuously need to go to the bathroom and for well over a week prevented me from traveling far from the comfort of the hole in the ground near my house. The good news is that it cleared up by itself—I suspect it was Giardia.
Fish….. I’ll save the explanation for this below. Overall, life has been good. We’ve had many good fishing days—light wind and a calm sea. People have money! Just in-time for the holidays!
FYI: I heard this bit of news from the hour of BBC news I get each day (about a week ago). Mining giant Rio Tinto is going to be cutting 14,000 jobs (14% of its workforce) worldwide, mainly because of the current economic situation AND particularly the decline of growth in the markets of Developing Countries (i.e. India and China). The implications this will have on the Madagascar Project are unknown—to me anyway.
I’m off to visit friends in Tulear for Christmas. I looking forward to the ride (although I’m told it’s a bit torturous). The route cuts directly through the ‘belly’ of southern Madagascar.
I wish everyone a Happy Holiday and/or Merry Christmas!
11/28/09
‘’We have no money’’—The words that keep the ‘poor’ in poverty?
I was paid a visit by Peace Corps yesterday. Part of me was excited to see what impressions my friends from Tana would have of St. Luce, but as always the trip was quick and brief. We bought fist, we talked about what I was doing, they swam, and we eat fish until we couldn’t move. We also went through all the ‘standard’ site visit formalities (interviews, paper work, etc.).
I was eager to show them some of the results of the cook-stove project, so we walked over to the elementary school in Manafiafy. The World Food Program feeds about 250 kids every school day (they provide pots, corn, rice, oil, sugar, and peas) After a quick introduction, the PCMO (peace crops Doctor) was quick to point out all the signs of malnutrition—disproportionate hands, feet, and heads; frail limbs; dry skin and skin infections; discolored hair and runny noses. In conversation he asked the local ladies who cook for the kids why they don’t treat the water they use with Chlorine (available at most shops throughout Madagascar), and than began instructing them on how they could clean the dirt off the plates with some vinegar.
As the doctor spoke, the faces of the two women became cold and serious. They lost all the facial glow that I was use to seeing. Immediately broke all eye contact with my ad the doctor and became fixated on the sandy soil at their feet. Shoulders dropped. It’s a posture I’ve seen before—a common sight when interning with a CYS agency during college. It’s the posture of disencouragement / disempowerment.
When the Doctor finished, he immediately got the response heard a lot, ‘’we don’t have money for that.’’ (a response or move of an excuse…?) I had a teacher in High School who would tell students (myself included) that if you say you ‘cannot’ do something, it actual means that you ‘will not’ do something, which ultimately means you ‘never’ tried. The ‘I have no money’ excuse is the ‘I can’t’ of the developing world. It justifies the current situation that the poor find themselves. When these words are uttered the doors of innovation and self-improvement are slammed shut. The advice given is being heard but processed defensively— Who are you? Why should I listen to you?
Of course this attitude can be overcome; all that is needed is trust, which is built through personal interaction. Andy’s successes as a social worker (my formal CYS supervisor) where the clients he continued to see and check-up on after they aged out the CYS system, the people he connected with on an individual level and was able to spark a willingness for self induced change.
12/01/08
The Politics of the Pump
In short, I returned from town to discover a new fence equipped with pad-lock around the water pump at the School near my house. My main source of drinking water and a favorite of many in my community because it doesn’t have a strong sulfur smell and the same discoloration like the water from the village well.
So, now when I get water people run after me with buckets in hand—lines form and what before only took 10 minutes now takes an hour. But the pump has been breaking and needs to be fixed every other day. First, I was told that kids shouldn’t use it, now people say I shouldn’t let other people use it (with the exception being a select few), and today Sosony suggested the I unscrew the handle and keep it in my house—what happened here! How did this become my pump and my problem? QMM built it, they should fix it right?
11/30/08
‘’Must remember that your role in development is not to become a hero, but rather make heroes out of the people with whom we are working.’’
I was disappointed and annoyed today when I showed up (as prearranged) only to discover that a cook-stove was already finished and build wrong (or differently). But later I came to the realization that this is how it should be. Who cares if they don’t like air vents, a certain mixture, or technique? It’s all about people taking ownership, taking an idea and making it their own. After all, creativity always sparks enthusiasm.
So…what have I contributed to this cook-stove project? At times it feels like I’ve done little, but help people construct them. But after some thought it seems I have actually supplied my NGO with heroes. Key people who advocate and help family, friends, and neighbors build improve cook-stoves, while saving money, time, and ultimately trees. They each have their own way of doing it, that doesn’t make it ‘wrong,’ its just ‘different.’
12/7/08
Wedding Season
As the sun slips southward (the north goes cold and Mad-car goes hot). Wedding Season also seems to accompany the rapid rise in temperature and just starting to pick-up down here. My village (Amboandrika) has had two this past weekend and it’s ‘different’ alright….
Everyone piles into a small house (a how many people can fit inside a phone booth situation—literally). Struggling for cool air and enduring the awkward position of sitting with my knees in my face, we all watched as a chicken’s neck is cut and blood collected on a flat stone, at which point the Bride is escorted inside. Both Bride and Groom sit in front of an elder from each family. Both say some words and place a dot of chicken blood on the forehead of both. Everyone cheers! Next, enters the jug of moon-shine (a rum made from sugarcane) and everyone drinks. Following all the drinking a table and chair is placed outside the hut and the newly married couple take a seat. Everyone shows their encouragement by giving money (putting it inside a hat), giving handshakes, and close family and friends give cooking utensils.
12/09/08
It’s the Night Before….
I helped build 3 cook-stoves today and I am exhausted, but no rest for this guy because tomorrow I… Armed with a hook, a tatava or stick, and 5 kilo line, tomorrow at 3am I get to experience… I don’t know how this is going to go… I’m going to get sick and based on past experiences (mostly around man-made lakes in PA) my changes of catching anything are slim. That’s right! Tomorrow I fish!
12/10/08
Sun Rise, Sun Rise
There is something exciting about getting up before the sun. Maybe it’s because I only do it on rare and special occasions, the anxiety and anticipation experienced as a child, always arousing the emotions of waiting for the sun the break through the horizon on Christmas mornings.
I was up before I heard the knock on the door. Grabbed the things I had set out the night before and bolted out the door. As we walked by my neighbors I made sure to yell and make as much noise as possible (a rare opportunity for a little pay-back).
In the morning darkness we sat, drank coffee, and laughed (mostly at my expense as usual). I told them that I was probably going to throw-up and how I didn’t need paddle because I had my hands. Conversation mostly revolved around me and of course, fishing.
We walked under the light of the stars, greeted in the darkness along the way by friends, family, and neighbors. Mostly with jaws dropped with amazement at the sight of me going to fish.
The Boys Club
We walked on to the Beach, which at that point was bustling with activity. People pulling boats into the water and getting gear ready. Yesterdays catch, todays calm sea, and yes…girls were all common topics of discussion. This is without a doubt a ‘boys club’ and I was honored to have been invited to experience it. We sat and waited as the other three in out fishing party paddled the boat around the rocks from the southern beach.
‘’Its going to be hot, did you bring water?’’ A friend asks with a touch of laughter accompanied with a look of amazement.
‘’Yes I have some thanks.’’ Thanks dad—I think to myself.
By now the sun crept above the horizon and lit-up the sky with every shade of pink and red imaginable. With the palm trees in the background it reminded me of a photo you would see on someone’s’ Windows desktop.
The boats are small one piece canoes carved out of large trees from the rain forests up north. I can’t imagine experiencing a rough sea in one and I wont any time soon because today the sea is as calm as a swimming pool. The boat arrives, I throw on my life jacket (a PC must) and hop in. Balance is critical in these hollowed out tree trunks. Each man has to sit on alternating sides to keep the ‘sea-worthy’ craft from tipping.
Fishing
We paddled around some rocks and about 2k into the body of water known as the Bay of St. Luce. But don’t be fooled by the name, this is nothing like the protected bay side I was use to seeing at the Jersey shore. It is unprotected open water. We paddled into a group of about 20 boats. All making some reference to the fact that this canoe was carrying a tall lanky ‘white’ guy.
Did you ever see a game show where the winner gets the chance to stand in a box and grab as much money out of the air as possible as $ bills are continuously blown all around? I don’t think I have.... But anyway fishing for Sihely is a similar experience (I can imagine).
You throw your hand-line into the school of fish below and pull up a 7 inch fish. I used one line, which continually became tangled with every fish I brought out of the water. Everyone else in the boat worked three at a time. Drop the line into the water, pull on it quickly when you feel a tug, bring up the fish, grab it (without getting your hand hooked), drop it into your basket, rebate if needed, and repeat. We fished like this for four hours, interrupted periodically by the Dauphines who also were enjoying the bounty of the sea just a few feet away. I could have fished longer—the time past quickly. But I was interrupted by a shout from the rear of the boat saying we needed to get back quick. The logic was that other boats were already heading back and if we get back early enough you could sell less for more (8 for 200ar) I rolled up my line and was handed a paddle.
This part I particularly enjoyed—because it was a mad dash to get back to the beach. We rowed in alternating unison, right side and left side continually sprayed by a mist as we cut through the swells. My chest burned and arms ached, but I found the sound of the paddles cutting through the water and the quick propulsions forward almost hypnotic. It was exhausting, but it was accompanied with a rhythm that made it pleasurable. We passed numerous boats—most stopping at the site of me rowing a boat. We finally approached the beach, which by mid-morning was littered with people and bustling with activity, I walked onto the beach trying not to fall over and was greeted with laughter, amazement, and Sosony.
‘’Fa nahazo hanoa?’’ He yells out from the top of the beach.
His face was lit-up at the sight of the full basket of fish I was carrying.
After selling my basket of fish for 2000ar (12 fish for 200ar), Sosony and I started walking home as the rest of the group geared up to head back out. Our walk home was frequently interrupted by people stopping and asking questions— Did you get a lot? Did you throw up? You can fish?
I broke two taboos while fishing. The first was whistling—a hard one to restrain from and I broke it a few times. Apparently is attracts whales and sharks. Yelling out ‘Fuck!’ when I would catch myself in the mindless act each time brought about more laughter among my fishing mates than the actual fear of attracting a large predatory fish. The second was bringing a banana with me on board (which I later learned if eaten would have spoiled the catch).
In all it was a good experience and I have been on a natural ‘high’ all day. It’s fun to see the reactions on faces when people find out that I fished. Even people who don’t fish for a living have expressed interest in going after I tell them about my experience. As if I have made it ‘okay’ to fish—not just a job for the uneducated and poor…
What happens to my fish?
The journey doesn’t end on the beach (except for the six I ate for lunch). They will get smoked and tomorrow begin the 15 hour walk from St. Luce to Ranomafana. Where they are sold for 200ar a piece or traded for rice (sold around 250/300ar a cup in Ranomafana). The rice gets transported back to St. Luce and sold at 400ar a cup.
People can make a lot of money and it all revolves around supply, demand, and accessibility. Ranomafana is not accessible by road from St. Luce. Only by a steep and difficult to navigate trail that cuts across a mountain range and through the southern tip of Madagascar’s rain forest corridor. The town is a Commune head that is highly populated (and relatively speaking) wealthier than St. Luce. Most of the wealth coming from agriculture, supplying the region and Ft. Dauphin with coffee, rice, beans, and other agricultural commodities.
The fishermen know it’s not particularly ‘fair.’ They fish all day (with at times a lot of risk involved), pull in a catch, sell if for pennies to a foreigner on the beach who transports it (one could argue with an equal amount of energy input) and sells it for dimes. ‘’It’s not right.’’ Kolasy tells me as we sit on the floor of his hut and he takes a sip of rum.
According to his reports the second trip out was not nearly as bountiful as the first. I received an open invite to go again. I told him when it’s really calm I’ll consider it, we both laugh and I headed home to cook the rest of my fish for dinner.
During my last trip back from Ft. Dauphin I brought back an unwanted guest in my gut, which caused a continuously need to go to the bathroom and for well over a week prevented me from traveling far from the comfort of the hole in the ground near my house. The good news is that it cleared up by itself—I suspect it was Giardia.
Fish….. I’ll save the explanation for this below. Overall, life has been good. We’ve had many good fishing days—light wind and a calm sea. People have money! Just in-time for the holidays!
FYI: I heard this bit of news from the hour of BBC news I get each day (about a week ago). Mining giant Rio Tinto is going to be cutting 14,000 jobs (14% of its workforce) worldwide, mainly because of the current economic situation AND particularly the decline of growth in the markets of Developing Countries (i.e. India and China). The implications this will have on the Madagascar Project are unknown—to me anyway.
I’m off to visit friends in Tulear for Christmas. I looking forward to the ride (although I’m told it’s a bit torturous). The route cuts directly through the ‘belly’ of southern Madagascar.
I wish everyone a Happy Holiday and/or Merry Christmas!
11/28/09
‘’We have no money’’—The words that keep the ‘poor’ in poverty?
I was paid a visit by Peace Corps yesterday. Part of me was excited to see what impressions my friends from Tana would have of St. Luce, but as always the trip was quick and brief. We bought fist, we talked about what I was doing, they swam, and we eat fish until we couldn’t move. We also went through all the ‘standard’ site visit formalities (interviews, paper work, etc.).
I was eager to show them some of the results of the cook-stove project, so we walked over to the elementary school in Manafiafy. The World Food Program feeds about 250 kids every school day (they provide pots, corn, rice, oil, sugar, and peas) After a quick introduction, the PCMO (peace crops Doctor) was quick to point out all the signs of malnutrition—disproportionate hands, feet, and heads; frail limbs; dry skin and skin infections; discolored hair and runny noses. In conversation he asked the local ladies who cook for the kids why they don’t treat the water they use with Chlorine (available at most shops throughout Madagascar), and than began instructing them on how they could clean the dirt off the plates with some vinegar.
As the doctor spoke, the faces of the two women became cold and serious. They lost all the facial glow that I was use to seeing. Immediately broke all eye contact with my ad the doctor and became fixated on the sandy soil at their feet. Shoulders dropped. It’s a posture I’ve seen before—a common sight when interning with a CYS agency during college. It’s the posture of disencouragement / disempowerment.
When the Doctor finished, he immediately got the response heard a lot, ‘’we don’t have money for that.’’ (a response or move of an excuse…?) I had a teacher in High School who would tell students (myself included) that if you say you ‘cannot’ do something, it actual means that you ‘will not’ do something, which ultimately means you ‘never’ tried. The ‘I have no money’ excuse is the ‘I can’t’ of the developing world. It justifies the current situation that the poor find themselves. When these words are uttered the doors of innovation and self-improvement are slammed shut. The advice given is being heard but processed defensively— Who are you? Why should I listen to you?
Of course this attitude can be overcome; all that is needed is trust, which is built through personal interaction. Andy’s successes as a social worker (my formal CYS supervisor) where the clients he continued to see and check-up on after they aged out the CYS system, the people he connected with on an individual level and was able to spark a willingness for self induced change.
12/01/08
The Politics of the Pump
In short, I returned from town to discover a new fence equipped with pad-lock around the water pump at the School near my house. My main source of drinking water and a favorite of many in my community because it doesn’t have a strong sulfur smell and the same discoloration like the water from the village well.
So, now when I get water people run after me with buckets in hand—lines form and what before only took 10 minutes now takes an hour. But the pump has been breaking and needs to be fixed every other day. First, I was told that kids shouldn’t use it, now people say I shouldn’t let other people use it (with the exception being a select few), and today Sosony suggested the I unscrew the handle and keep it in my house—what happened here! How did this become my pump and my problem? QMM built it, they should fix it right?
11/30/08
‘’Must remember that your role in development is not to become a hero, but rather make heroes out of the people with whom we are working.’’
I was disappointed and annoyed today when I showed up (as prearranged) only to discover that a cook-stove was already finished and build wrong (or differently). But later I came to the realization that this is how it should be. Who cares if they don’t like air vents, a certain mixture, or technique? It’s all about people taking ownership, taking an idea and making it their own. After all, creativity always sparks enthusiasm.
So…what have I contributed to this cook-stove project? At times it feels like I’ve done little, but help people construct them. But after some thought it seems I have actually supplied my NGO with heroes. Key people who advocate and help family, friends, and neighbors build improve cook-stoves, while saving money, time, and ultimately trees. They each have their own way of doing it, that doesn’t make it ‘wrong,’ its just ‘different.’
12/7/08
Wedding Season
As the sun slips southward (the north goes cold and Mad-car goes hot). Wedding Season also seems to accompany the rapid rise in temperature and just starting to pick-up down here. My village (Amboandrika) has had two this past weekend and it’s ‘different’ alright….
Everyone piles into a small house (a how many people can fit inside a phone booth situation—literally). Struggling for cool air and enduring the awkward position of sitting with my knees in my face, we all watched as a chicken’s neck is cut and blood collected on a flat stone, at which point the Bride is escorted inside. Both Bride and Groom sit in front of an elder from each family. Both say some words and place a dot of chicken blood on the forehead of both. Everyone cheers! Next, enters the jug of moon-shine (a rum made from sugarcane) and everyone drinks. Following all the drinking a table and chair is placed outside the hut and the newly married couple take a seat. Everyone shows their encouragement by giving money (putting it inside a hat), giving handshakes, and close family and friends give cooking utensils.
12/09/08
It’s the Night Before….
I helped build 3 cook-stoves today and I am exhausted, but no rest for this guy because tomorrow I… Armed with a hook, a tatava or stick, and 5 kilo line, tomorrow at 3am I get to experience… I don’t know how this is going to go… I’m going to get sick and based on past experiences (mostly around man-made lakes in PA) my changes of catching anything are slim. That’s right! Tomorrow I fish!
12/10/08
Sun Rise, Sun Rise
There is something exciting about getting up before the sun. Maybe it’s because I only do it on rare and special occasions, the anxiety and anticipation experienced as a child, always arousing the emotions of waiting for the sun the break through the horizon on Christmas mornings.
I was up before I heard the knock on the door. Grabbed the things I had set out the night before and bolted out the door. As we walked by my neighbors I made sure to yell and make as much noise as possible (a rare opportunity for a little pay-back).
In the morning darkness we sat, drank coffee, and laughed (mostly at my expense as usual). I told them that I was probably going to throw-up and how I didn’t need paddle because I had my hands. Conversation mostly revolved around me and of course, fishing.
We walked under the light of the stars, greeted in the darkness along the way by friends, family, and neighbors. Mostly with jaws dropped with amazement at the sight of me going to fish.
The Boys Club
We walked on to the Beach, which at that point was bustling with activity. People pulling boats into the water and getting gear ready. Yesterdays catch, todays calm sea, and yes…girls were all common topics of discussion. This is without a doubt a ‘boys club’ and I was honored to have been invited to experience it. We sat and waited as the other three in out fishing party paddled the boat around the rocks from the southern beach.
‘’Its going to be hot, did you bring water?’’ A friend asks with a touch of laughter accompanied with a look of amazement.
‘’Yes I have some thanks.’’ Thanks dad—I think to myself.
By now the sun crept above the horizon and lit-up the sky with every shade of pink and red imaginable. With the palm trees in the background it reminded me of a photo you would see on someone’s’ Windows desktop.
The boats are small one piece canoes carved out of large trees from the rain forests up north. I can’t imagine experiencing a rough sea in one and I wont any time soon because today the sea is as calm as a swimming pool. The boat arrives, I throw on my life jacket (a PC must) and hop in. Balance is critical in these hollowed out tree trunks. Each man has to sit on alternating sides to keep the ‘sea-worthy’ craft from tipping.
Fishing
We paddled around some rocks and about 2k into the body of water known as the Bay of St. Luce. But don’t be fooled by the name, this is nothing like the protected bay side I was use to seeing at the Jersey shore. It is unprotected open water. We paddled into a group of about 20 boats. All making some reference to the fact that this canoe was carrying a tall lanky ‘white’ guy.
Did you ever see a game show where the winner gets the chance to stand in a box and grab as much money out of the air as possible as $ bills are continuously blown all around? I don’t think I have.... But anyway fishing for Sihely is a similar experience (I can imagine).
You throw your hand-line into the school of fish below and pull up a 7 inch fish. I used one line, which continually became tangled with every fish I brought out of the water. Everyone else in the boat worked three at a time. Drop the line into the water, pull on it quickly when you feel a tug, bring up the fish, grab it (without getting your hand hooked), drop it into your basket, rebate if needed, and repeat. We fished like this for four hours, interrupted periodically by the Dauphines who also were enjoying the bounty of the sea just a few feet away. I could have fished longer—the time past quickly. But I was interrupted by a shout from the rear of the boat saying we needed to get back quick. The logic was that other boats were already heading back and if we get back early enough you could sell less for more (8 for 200ar) I rolled up my line and was handed a paddle.
This part I particularly enjoyed—because it was a mad dash to get back to the beach. We rowed in alternating unison, right side and left side continually sprayed by a mist as we cut through the swells. My chest burned and arms ached, but I found the sound of the paddles cutting through the water and the quick propulsions forward almost hypnotic. It was exhausting, but it was accompanied with a rhythm that made it pleasurable. We passed numerous boats—most stopping at the site of me rowing a boat. We finally approached the beach, which by mid-morning was littered with people and bustling with activity, I walked onto the beach trying not to fall over and was greeted with laughter, amazement, and Sosony.
‘’Fa nahazo hanoa?’’ He yells out from the top of the beach.
His face was lit-up at the sight of the full basket of fish I was carrying.
After selling my basket of fish for 2000ar (12 fish for 200ar), Sosony and I started walking home as the rest of the group geared up to head back out. Our walk home was frequently interrupted by people stopping and asking questions— Did you get a lot? Did you throw up? You can fish?
I broke two taboos while fishing. The first was whistling—a hard one to restrain from and I broke it a few times. Apparently is attracts whales and sharks. Yelling out ‘Fuck!’ when I would catch myself in the mindless act each time brought about more laughter among my fishing mates than the actual fear of attracting a large predatory fish. The second was bringing a banana with me on board (which I later learned if eaten would have spoiled the catch).
In all it was a good experience and I have been on a natural ‘high’ all day. It’s fun to see the reactions on faces when people find out that I fished. Even people who don’t fish for a living have expressed interest in going after I tell them about my experience. As if I have made it ‘okay’ to fish—not just a job for the uneducated and poor…
What happens to my fish?
The journey doesn’t end on the beach (except for the six I ate for lunch). They will get smoked and tomorrow begin the 15 hour walk from St. Luce to Ranomafana. Where they are sold for 200ar a piece or traded for rice (sold around 250/300ar a cup in Ranomafana). The rice gets transported back to St. Luce and sold at 400ar a cup.
People can make a lot of money and it all revolves around supply, demand, and accessibility. Ranomafana is not accessible by road from St. Luce. Only by a steep and difficult to navigate trail that cuts across a mountain range and through the southern tip of Madagascar’s rain forest corridor. The town is a Commune head that is highly populated (and relatively speaking) wealthier than St. Luce. Most of the wealth coming from agriculture, supplying the region and Ft. Dauphin with coffee, rice, beans, and other agricultural commodities.
The fishermen know it’s not particularly ‘fair.’ They fish all day (with at times a lot of risk involved), pull in a catch, sell if for pennies to a foreigner on the beach who transports it (one could argue with an equal amount of energy input) and sells it for dimes. ‘’It’s not right.’’ Kolasy tells me as we sit on the floor of his hut and he takes a sip of rum.
According to his reports the second trip out was not nearly as bountiful as the first. I received an open invite to go again. I told him when it’s really calm I’ll consider it, we both laugh and I headed home to cook the rest of my fish for dinner.
Nov 24, 2008
Lets Talk Mining: A thick layer on the multi-layered cake I call St. Luce.
----This is meant to give only a brief introduction to the overall mining project----
The Rio Tinto Group, a UK-Australian based mining company has been studying a mining project near the town of Fort. Dauphin in Southeastern Madagascar for the past 17 years. The mining project, which is extracting ilmenite and small quantities of zircon, is called Qit Fer Madagascar Minerials S.A. (QMM) and is owned 80% by Rio Tinto with the possibility of the government owning 20%. The 20% ‘potential’ ownership depends on the availability of international funds—needing to find $117 million USD through international financial institutions to claim its full 20% capital share. The current shared ownership is only assured during the current ‘mine development phase,’ which expires at the point of first extraction (originally set for Dec. 2008), if funds can not be found/borrowed Rio Tinto would become the sole owner of the project.
Its been estimated that the mine could last 50-60 years extracting grains of ilmenite and small quantities of zircon from the mineral sand deposits near Ft. Dauphin. Mining exploration efforts have confirmed ilmenite and zircon in four sectors (villages)—the Petriky sector, the Mandena sector, and the St. Luce sector. Together they host reserves which could sustain mining operations for more than 60 years at a rate of 750,000 tones of ilmenite a year.
The Mining Process:
1) Removing vegetation cover (storing the humus layer if and when applicable).
2) Extracting sand by dredging, requiring the creation of artificial lakes.
3) Mechanically separating the heavy metals (about 5%) and returning non-heavy metals(about 95%) back to mining site.
4) Separating ilmenite and zircon from other heavy mental.
5) Returning other heavy metals to the mining site.
6) Restoration of mined areas—replanting using tree species already commonly planted throughout Madagascar. (the process will require the removal and loss of extremely rare fragments of littoral coastal forest).
The project overall is the largest foreign investment in Maagascar’s history and is the first in a series of natural resource extraction projects that the country is developing with the international mining sector and the World Bank. This project has been labeled a ‘flagship,’ raising the bar of the international mining community. Is this true? Or just another exploitation of national resources at the expense of a desperate country and its people? …You Decide…. (I encourage you to research on your own and not to interpret anything written here as complete fact).
Good Community relations have always been a priority of the QMM project. A social and Enviornmental Impact Assessment started the project back in 1990 and concluded in 2001. (this includes the establishment of two ‘protected’ fragments of littoral forest—in Mandena and St. Luce). QMM’s early community relations strategy was inspired by Rio Tinto’s (the parent company) policy—As expressed in the document ‘the way we work.’ The document uses language such as ‘mutual respect,’ ‘active and reciprocal partnerships,’ and ‘long term commitment to the communities in which QMM is present.’
If you are saying, ‘That doesn’t sound much like a mining company.’ I found this info awhile back in Jared Diamond’s book ‘‘Clasped’’
Papua New Guinea’s Bougainville Island Copper Mine
The Bougainville Island Copper Mine in Papua New Guinea was the countries largest enterprise and biggest earner of foreign exchange, and one of the largest copper mines in the world.
The mine was faced with a problem, the same problem all mining projects face—what to do with tailings or unused/unneeded material, started dumping its waste directly into a tributary of the Jaba River (a major source of water for the people). This caused monumental environmental impacts at the expense of the New Guinean people. The Government failed to resolve the situation, thus outraged and frustrated inhabitants revolted, triggering a civil war that cost thousands of lives and nearly tore apart the nation of Papua New Guinea.
Fifteen years since the outbreak of civil unrest, peace has still not fully been restored on Bougainville. The mine still remains closed (officially closing its doors in 1989) at the expense of owners and lenders (including Bank of America, US Export/ Import Bank, and Australian and Japanese lenders).
In 1990 on the heels of this disaster, top executives of some of the world’s largest international mining companies became concerned about the future of their Industry (afraid that they had lost all ‘social license to operate’). They formed an initiative appropriately named the ‘Mining Minerals and Sustainable Development (MSD) project and launched a series of studies on sustainable mining and enlisted a well-known environmentalist as its director—the President of the National Wildlife Federation at the time. They also attempted without much success to involve the broader environmental community, which refused out of pure disgust from previous mining practices (i.e. Bougainville). In 2002, the study arrived at a series of recommendations (as mandated) at which point most of the mining companies involved declined to implement any recommendations.
The exceptions is the mining giant Rio Tinto, which moved ahead on some of the recommendations, which were backed by a supportive CEO and shareholders—still scarred by the companies experience of owning the Bougainville Island Copper Mine in New Guinea.
Of course business advantages exist when a company is seen as an industry leader in ‘social responsibility.’
The Borax mine in California’s Death Valley is one of the most cleanly operated mines in the U.S. (owned by Rio Tinto).
When Tiffany and Co. began stressing environmental considerations in selecting a mining company as a key gold supplier, they went with Rio Tinto. Tiffany and Company was eager to fend off the negative attention of protesters outside of their jewelry stores protesting the use of cyanide (linked to clasping fisheries) in the gold mining process
The ilmentite deposit here in Madagascar is located in the Anosy region of south-eastern Madagascar (I speak/learned the Anosy dialect). It’s a region that has been historically plagued with poverty, isolation, and according to who you speak with—political/administrative neglect. 82% of the people live in poverty (the national average is around 74%). The regional economy is based on agriculture (sisal and rice are the ‘staple’ crops).
A word on Sisal production.
(from the Bradt Madagascar Guide)
The crop was introduced in the early 1900s with the first exports in 1922 (with 42 tons going to France). By 1950 production reached 3,080 tons annually mainly because of its use in carpet production. Requiring the clearing of endemic forest, to make room for sisal production. In 1952 a synthetic substitute was developed in the US and the market in Madagascar clasped.
But in the 1990’s the market resurged exporting 5,000 tones in 2005—putting more forest at risk (old land was converted to other uses—thus new land needed to be found). Why?
Ironically ‘green’ consumers in the EU and USA demanding biodegradable packaging, which is made from sisal.
Even rice production is weak and the region, which needs to import 12,000 tons to meet its yearly demand.
74% of school aged children do not attend school.
When I recently asked Angelo who is 14 years old, ‘why doesn’t go to school?’ He told me that the teacher was mean and laughed (I laughed too, because this wasn’t true—he is a good friend and well respected within the community). It makes sense…Why go to School? An office/job or any future other than fishing seems so abstract and unattainable. With the mining project underway and the rapid development to come, Angelo and others like him will surely be left behind.
What is Ilmenite?
It’s been said that the project is dependant on China’s growth, which is generating much of the demand for both ilmenite and zirconium. The ilmenite is used in making a white dye that is used to give the white pigment found in plastic bags, paint, and skin lotions.
According to an article I found with 2006 figures, ilmenite stood at $75-85 USD per-ton. Zirconium was priced at $800 USD per ton. But the ilmenite will not be going straight to the open market. A special agreement allows Qit Fir (Rio Tinto) to have exclusive rights to buy the ilmenite at market price and ship it to its smelting plant in Canada, where it will be converted into titanium chloride (priced at $413-550 USD per ton in 2006).
A lot of tension exists between the mining company and my partnering NGO (the relationship between the two was even mentioned in a report by the WWF in 2006). My NGO, was created in 1994 with the intension of finding ‘developmental alternatives’ to the mining project.
When I recently asked Sosony ‘Why he didn’t like the mining company?’
He said it was ‘bad and would damage the soil.’
He than sat quietly in a daze for a brief moment, finally letting out a sigh with the word ‘unwise.’
Many in the village don’t hold this same view and are supportive of the QMM project.
The Rio Tinto Group, a UK-Australian based mining company has been studying a mining project near the town of Fort. Dauphin in Southeastern Madagascar for the past 17 years. The mining project, which is extracting ilmenite and small quantities of zircon, is called Qit Fer Madagascar Minerials S.A. (QMM) and is owned 80% by Rio Tinto with the possibility of the government owning 20%. The 20% ‘potential’ ownership depends on the availability of international funds—needing to find $117 million USD through international financial institutions to claim its full 20% capital share. The current shared ownership is only assured during the current ‘mine development phase,’ which expires at the point of first extraction (originally set for Dec. 2008), if funds can not be found/borrowed Rio Tinto would become the sole owner of the project.
Its been estimated that the mine could last 50-60 years extracting grains of ilmenite and small quantities of zircon from the mineral sand deposits near Ft. Dauphin. Mining exploration efforts have confirmed ilmenite and zircon in four sectors (villages)—the Petriky sector, the Mandena sector, and the St. Luce sector. Together they host reserves which could sustain mining operations for more than 60 years at a rate of 750,000 tones of ilmenite a year.
The Mining Process:
1) Removing vegetation cover (storing the humus layer if and when applicable).
2) Extracting sand by dredging, requiring the creation of artificial lakes.
3) Mechanically separating the heavy metals (about 5%) and returning non-heavy metals(about 95%) back to mining site.
4) Separating ilmenite and zircon from other heavy mental.
5) Returning other heavy metals to the mining site.
6) Restoration of mined areas—replanting using tree species already commonly planted throughout Madagascar. (the process will require the removal and loss of extremely rare fragments of littoral coastal forest).
The project overall is the largest foreign investment in Maagascar’s history and is the first in a series of natural resource extraction projects that the country is developing with the international mining sector and the World Bank. This project has been labeled a ‘flagship,’ raising the bar of the international mining community. Is this true? Or just another exploitation of national resources at the expense of a desperate country and its people? …You Decide…. (I encourage you to research on your own and not to interpret anything written here as complete fact).
Good Community relations have always been a priority of the QMM project. A social and Enviornmental Impact Assessment started the project back in 1990 and concluded in 2001. (this includes the establishment of two ‘protected’ fragments of littoral forest—in Mandena and St. Luce). QMM’s early community relations strategy was inspired by Rio Tinto’s (the parent company) policy—As expressed in the document ‘the way we work.’ The document uses language such as ‘mutual respect,’ ‘active and reciprocal partnerships,’ and ‘long term commitment to the communities in which QMM is present.’
If you are saying, ‘That doesn’t sound much like a mining company.’ I found this info awhile back in Jared Diamond’s book ‘‘Clasped’’
Papua New Guinea’s Bougainville Island Copper Mine
The Bougainville Island Copper Mine in Papua New Guinea was the countries largest enterprise and biggest earner of foreign exchange, and one of the largest copper mines in the world.
The mine was faced with a problem, the same problem all mining projects face—what to do with tailings or unused/unneeded material, started dumping its waste directly into a tributary of the Jaba River (a major source of water for the people). This caused monumental environmental impacts at the expense of the New Guinean people. The Government failed to resolve the situation, thus outraged and frustrated inhabitants revolted, triggering a civil war that cost thousands of lives and nearly tore apart the nation of Papua New Guinea.
Fifteen years since the outbreak of civil unrest, peace has still not fully been restored on Bougainville. The mine still remains closed (officially closing its doors in 1989) at the expense of owners and lenders (including Bank of America, US Export/ Import Bank, and Australian and Japanese lenders).
In 1990 on the heels of this disaster, top executives of some of the world’s largest international mining companies became concerned about the future of their Industry (afraid that they had lost all ‘social license to operate’). They formed an initiative appropriately named the ‘Mining Minerals and Sustainable Development (MSD) project and launched a series of studies on sustainable mining and enlisted a well-known environmentalist as its director—the President of the National Wildlife Federation at the time. They also attempted without much success to involve the broader environmental community, which refused out of pure disgust from previous mining practices (i.e. Bougainville). In 2002, the study arrived at a series of recommendations (as mandated) at which point most of the mining companies involved declined to implement any recommendations.
The exceptions is the mining giant Rio Tinto, which moved ahead on some of the recommendations, which were backed by a supportive CEO and shareholders—still scarred by the companies experience of owning the Bougainville Island Copper Mine in New Guinea.
Of course business advantages exist when a company is seen as an industry leader in ‘social responsibility.’
The Borax mine in California’s Death Valley is one of the most cleanly operated mines in the U.S. (owned by Rio Tinto).
When Tiffany and Co. began stressing environmental considerations in selecting a mining company as a key gold supplier, they went with Rio Tinto. Tiffany and Company was eager to fend off the negative attention of protesters outside of their jewelry stores protesting the use of cyanide (linked to clasping fisheries) in the gold mining process
The ilmentite deposit here in Madagascar is located in the Anosy region of south-eastern Madagascar (I speak/learned the Anosy dialect). It’s a region that has been historically plagued with poverty, isolation, and according to who you speak with—political/administrative neglect. 82% of the people live in poverty (the national average is around 74%). The regional economy is based on agriculture (sisal and rice are the ‘staple’ crops).
A word on Sisal production.
(from the Bradt Madagascar Guide)
The crop was introduced in the early 1900s with the first exports in 1922 (with 42 tons going to France). By 1950 production reached 3,080 tons annually mainly because of its use in carpet production. Requiring the clearing of endemic forest, to make room for sisal production. In 1952 a synthetic substitute was developed in the US and the market in Madagascar clasped.
But in the 1990’s the market resurged exporting 5,000 tones in 2005—putting more forest at risk (old land was converted to other uses—thus new land needed to be found). Why?
Ironically ‘green’ consumers in the EU and USA demanding biodegradable packaging, which is made from sisal.
Even rice production is weak and the region, which needs to import 12,000 tons to meet its yearly demand.
74% of school aged children do not attend school.
When I recently asked Angelo who is 14 years old, ‘why doesn’t go to school?’ He told me that the teacher was mean and laughed (I laughed too, because this wasn’t true—he is a good friend and well respected within the community). It makes sense…Why go to School? An office/job or any future other than fishing seems so abstract and unattainable. With the mining project underway and the rapid development to come, Angelo and others like him will surely be left behind.
What is Ilmenite?
It’s been said that the project is dependant on China’s growth, which is generating much of the demand for both ilmenite and zirconium. The ilmenite is used in making a white dye that is used to give the white pigment found in plastic bags, paint, and skin lotions.
According to an article I found with 2006 figures, ilmenite stood at $75-85 USD per-ton. Zirconium was priced at $800 USD per ton. But the ilmenite will not be going straight to the open market. A special agreement allows Qit Fir (Rio Tinto) to have exclusive rights to buy the ilmenite at market price and ship it to its smelting plant in Canada, where it will be converted into titanium chloride (priced at $413-550 USD per ton in 2006).
A lot of tension exists between the mining company and my partnering NGO (the relationship between the two was even mentioned in a report by the WWF in 2006). My NGO, was created in 1994 with the intension of finding ‘developmental alternatives’ to the mining project.
When I recently asked Sosony ‘Why he didn’t like the mining company?’
He said it was ‘bad and would damage the soil.’
He than sat quietly in a daze for a brief moment, finally letting out a sigh with the word ‘unwise.’
Many in the village don’t hold this same view and are supportive of the QMM project.
Nov 20, 2008
Shahalay and Lychees
I didn’t have an easy month. I was plagued with cultural frustration and homesickness. But overall things seem to be coming together. I’ve been eating well—My favorite fish are running (an oily sardine about six inches long— Shahalay in Gasy ) that can be cooked in a soup or fried and eaten whole. I’ve also been enjoying the Lychee harvest—a sweet fruit the same size as a cherry (Do we have them in the States? I’ve never had them before).
9/26/08
Who Stole the Cookies from the Cookie Jar?
Everyone gathered around the one small shop in Amboandrika (my village, the first hamlet that makes up St. Luce) in the late afternoon. I showed up late because I was roaming around the side of the road hoping to find a piece of scrape wood that could be mounted above my door to prevent rain water from coming in, of course I didn’t find anything…
It was the largest gathering in our hamlet that I’ve seen. Kids, men, women –all village life came to a halt. Our chief of the village sat in the only chair in the center surrounded by villagers. He was angry and it was easy to tell by his body language. He sat on the edge of his chair hands cutting through the air as he spoke.
‘’It was children, children, not foreigners. I’m not playing! I will go to Ft. Dauphin and get the police. Who? Who was it?’’
A long silent pause follows as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.
As we wait, people start talking among themselves. Some put forth alternative theories of what could have happened to the two missing coconuts and the four missing chickens.
‘’It could have been a hawk’’ one suggests.
‘’Someone from Malatalaky’’ another yells out.
Benombie (chef de village) wasn’t convinced and sat up in his chair, again hands waving as he spoke. He spoke with such intensity that the veins in his neck and forehead started to swell.
‘’We have a problem here…It’s a big problem. Someone stole two of Rasimba’s coconuts. People are missing chickens, not a few, a lot! Children! You think I am playing? This is a huge problem and I will get the police myself!’’
The children sitting behind him muttered a few words. I couldn’t make out what was said. Benombie didn’t turn around, he maintained his position in the chair facing forward with a look the displayed both his anger and disappointment. He pointed to the sandy soil next to him.
‘’Here!’’ he said. ‘’Stand here, and speak up!’’
Two boys arose from behind him with water filled eyes—shoulders drooped, eyes frantically scanning the disappointed faces of the crowd. It was clear that they have been shamed.
They apologized to Rasimba for taking his coconuts and claimed that they did not know who was stealing the chickens and cooking them in the forest. The gathering continued for another half hour as Benobmie drilled the children until one boy finally gave him a list of four names.
Besides public humiliation, the boys had to pay for each coconut and each chicken that was taken.
(I wrote this before my accident, because people have had questions about my safety and security at site).
10/24/08
Coming to Terms with the Reality of Things—what did I get out of all this? A lesson on what Peace Corps is all about.
When I returned to my village earlier this week I wasn’t sure what I was going to be returning to. A garden full of dead plants, a house full of rat poop, a blood stained floor, and moldy food, all I knew was inevitable. But what I ultimately got when I returned on Monday was a lesson of what this experience is all about. If you have read previous posts, its clear that I’ve been suffering from a lot of self-induced doubt about my work here—am I doing enough and am I being productive? It’s clear now that assessing progress through a ‘’western perspective’’ will never work here.
Everyday when I wake-up..I’m doing something. Every smile I bring…I’m doing something. Every person who has asked about my finger or by overall well-being…proves that I’ve done something.
My progress here is displayed on the face of Juno when he greets me everyday with a grin from ear to ear. It’s displayed in the words of Sosony when he continually told me how he missed having me around. It’s shown in the newly found confidence displayed by Kolasy when he is interacting and working around foreigners. The reality of this situation is that vegetables die, food rots, and cook stoves break. But it’s the intangible, the unnoticed, and the personal relationships that matter most. That’s what is and will ultimately be ‘sustainable.’ This experience here is mine, its time I accept it for what it is. People will continually judge, ask, and wonder. But they will never really know. They don’t live here. They camp for a week, visit for a day, or read a report from an office. Non-of-which will ever fully capture the reality of my situation here.
10/27/08
It’s a Celebration
Today my brother got married. Between spreading the joy by telling everyone I know that a HUGE party was taking place in America. I spent most of the afternoon with just about every able bodied person trudging through marsh trying to distinguish a brush fire. The reality and dangers of ‘slash and burn’ agriculture on an exposed wind swept field. The good news is that no one was injured, no houses burned, and no cassava fields damaged.
The day ended with the purchase of a beer (a rarity when at site) and a communal gathering with Sosony and his family as we ‘’toasted’’ to my brother and new sister’s good fortune and future life together! Cheers!
10/29/08
The Egos in the World of Development and the Complications that Follow
Its no mystery that Peace Corps or the ‘challenge’ of Peace Corps attracts some highly qualified, bright, and very opinionated people. My closest Peace Crops friends went to Dartmouth and Yale. Half of my training group has a graduate degree (Law, Engineering, Political Science, Marine Biology, and Conservation are just a few). Even the people who work for or volunteer with my partnering organization have degrees and graduate degrees from highly reputable institutions (Oxford, Cambridge, St. Andrews, London School of Economics). On the one hand it’s great that this type of work can attract the best and the brightest. On the other hand it creates an environment of what I find to be full of unnecessary tension and competition. Everyone has the same goal in mind (Development), but it easily takes a back seat to individual gains and interests. Publications, organization/self-promotion, and thoughts of future careers can quickly over shadow any idealism.
At the organization level, you have a large number of NGOs, many providing the same services, competing among each other for the same grants, funding streams, and media attention. All adding more tension to an already highly competitive field.
Organizations create artificial boundaries, claiming ‘this’ village or ‘that’ village as their ‘territory.’ Organizational cooperation is rare (we have the funding and the staff…why talk to them..??). It’s a constant race against time. Founding streams go dry, quotas and obligations need to be met and reports compiled.
The three month tale of the Vitamin A Sweet Potato
-Steve visits my site and tells me about this new vitamin A enriched sweet potato.
-Thinking about farming sweet potatoes, I decide to try and get some cuttings.
-I email a contact given to me by Steve—not as easy as it sounds.
-I get a reply a month later and learn that CARE had run a test program back in 2004.
-I talk to a CARE worker in Mahatalaky who has no idea what I’m talking about.
-I resend an email to my contact, who never replies because I later discover that he no longer works in Madagascar.
-I talk to the regional head of CARE who says, ‘’Yea we have them, but not here.’’ He sends me to ASOS (another organization).
-I go to ASOS and talk with a representative who tells me they do have the variety, but they are ‘’not here.’’ ‘’Come back in a month.’’
-I return a month later, still no sweet potato
-I speak with the head of the nutrition program at ASOS (a frustrating experience with my limited Gasy). He gives me a map with the name of what I though was an organization 20k outside of Ft. Dauphin.
-I bike the 20k and discover that the ‘organization’ is a village and I would need to bike another 20k to reach it.
All I wanted was to help by setting up a test plot and see if it would grow in St. Luce. I walk away three months later Potato less and missing my short window to plant.
11/09/08
Damn Johnny, this sucks!
Johnny Appleseed—would have been labeled an evangelical ‘’hippie’’ by today’s standards. He spread the word of god, his love of nature, and apple seeds throughout the American frontier (at the time—Western PA, Ohio, and Indiana). He was no ‘’saint’’ by definition, although a missionary of sorts, he made his money/living setting up apple orchards. Apples were a prized possession for making moon-shine all along the frontier. Johnny was also a little odd. He preferred isolation, enjoyed sleeping outdoors in hollowed logs, and used a potato sack as clothing. Its been said that he once punished his foot for killing an ant by walking shoe-less an entire winter. None of this I particularly relate with—with the exception of having a love for nature and maybe being a bit odd. What I can relate with is the contrast between the two very different worlds he frequented. He was drawn to the wild of the outdoors—slept under trees, lived among Native Americans, and scavenged for food. He also stayed in a place long enough to establish a tree nursery, and witness the establishment of settlements and arrival of settlers, providing them with a much valued commodity. He was a frequently welcomed guest into homes up and down the frontier, receiving a warm meal and place to sleep for the exchange of tales about Indians and the gospel. Although living an entertaining life he was ‘’sandwiched’’ between two very different worlds, never fully belonging to any particular one.
I’m not sure if ‘lost’ would have best described his predicament as much as ‘awkward.’ He never really ‘fit-in’ and I have come to this realization that I, like Johnny, am also ‘’sandwiched.’’ When I run into people from the western world—tourists, volunteers, researchers I find it harder and harder to relate. Conversation quickly runs dry and stories quickly become old. I am still and probably always will be an awkward fit within my community and as my ‘’western’’ conversation skills start to degrade; I start to feel more and more isolated/trapped. I currently find myself ‘sandwiched.’ I wonder if Johnny found his situation as frustrating as I find mine to be.
11/11/08
Curve Balls
Forest Gump’s mother best described life as a box of chocolates and that you will never really know what you’re are going to get. That explanation is the best way to describe daily life here. The curve balls, the things that I don’t see coming and catch me completely off guard only add to my already unpredictable pace of life here. This past week I experienced three. First, I learned that a Gasy friend gets money and ‘nice’ things through gay prostitution (as you can imagine it’s much more complicated). He’s married with a beautiful wife and child. The thought that he is doing it just for money to support his family makes my stomach turn. Second, I discovered that a brick building down the road houses about 300 ‘improved’ unused bee hives (for increasing honey production). Another example of poor managed funding/projects within development. Third, I discovered that the person who runs the environment program for my NGO, owns land (or a patch of forest) in St. Luce. He has already cleared a large portion and plans to clear more—with the hope of building tourist bungalows. (A great example of ‘Tragedy of the Commons’?? An ‘If I don’t someone else will’ mentality??).
11/15/08
Untitled
I can’t help but wonder what everyone thinks when they see me or when they speak to me. To many people I feel like I am just my material possessions. A ball pump, a bike pump, scotch tape, a flash light, a radio. People love to come into my house and gaze wide eyed at my bike, my stove, my books, my solar panels (that run my BLU radio). I can’t stand the type of attention this brings and as you can imagine it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable. You begin to question peoples’ motives. Why are they helping me? What will they ask for later on? Are they just being nice because they want something? I hope I am able to move past this, but I am not sure I ever will.
11/18/08
An Update
So I’ll close with a quick update on things.
My finger tip has grown back (I’m like a lizard). It looks a little odd, but not all that noticeable. People in my village love to show me injures they have had with an antsy, an axe, or a machete. We’ve been laughing a lot, mostly at my expense.
The Humpback Whales are migrating to feeding grounds up north (they move down south to give birth) and they are active— the breeching can be heard at night in my house and I live 3k from the beach.
I took advantage of a school vacation and build five cook stoves near the EPP(elementary school) in St. Luce. A food aid program cooks for the children five days a week.
My neighbor has a Moringa tree that’s maybe four/five months old and 8 feet tall already.
The big question on everyone’s mind—When will Brendan go fishing?
The answer: December
Another big question: Can I have some Tomatoes?
I have started getting informal mandolin lessons—made of fishing wire and wood carved by locals. I’m no good.
I fixed our water-pump today with Scotch Tape—A job that would make my grandfather (a well experienced master of the ‘quick’ fix) very proud.
Helped with some lemur research—I have seen all the lemurs found in St. Luce except for the Collard Brown lemur. I starting to question its existence.
I ate my first sea-urchin the other day and it tastes as you would expect…a spongy texture with a fishy taste.
Because it was written in my notebook—I’ll add it to this post. A quote from ‘One Straw Revolution’ by Masanobu Fakuoka
‘’I believe that a revolution can begin from this one strand of straw. Seen at a glance, this rice straw may appear light and insignificant. Hardly anyone would believe that it could start a revolution. But I have come to realize the weight and power of this one strand of straw.’’
9/26/08
Who Stole the Cookies from the Cookie Jar?
Everyone gathered around the one small shop in Amboandrika (my village, the first hamlet that makes up St. Luce) in the late afternoon. I showed up late because I was roaming around the side of the road hoping to find a piece of scrape wood that could be mounted above my door to prevent rain water from coming in, of course I didn’t find anything…
It was the largest gathering in our hamlet that I’ve seen. Kids, men, women –all village life came to a halt. Our chief of the village sat in the only chair in the center surrounded by villagers. He was angry and it was easy to tell by his body language. He sat on the edge of his chair hands cutting through the air as he spoke.
‘’It was children, children, not foreigners. I’m not playing! I will go to Ft. Dauphin and get the police. Who? Who was it?’’
A long silent pause follows as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.
As we wait, people start talking among themselves. Some put forth alternative theories of what could have happened to the two missing coconuts and the four missing chickens.
‘’It could have been a hawk’’ one suggests.
‘’Someone from Malatalaky’’ another yells out.
Benombie (chef de village) wasn’t convinced and sat up in his chair, again hands waving as he spoke. He spoke with such intensity that the veins in his neck and forehead started to swell.
‘’We have a problem here…It’s a big problem. Someone stole two of Rasimba’s coconuts. People are missing chickens, not a few, a lot! Children! You think I am playing? This is a huge problem and I will get the police myself!’’
The children sitting behind him muttered a few words. I couldn’t make out what was said. Benombie didn’t turn around, he maintained his position in the chair facing forward with a look the displayed both his anger and disappointment. He pointed to the sandy soil next to him.
‘’Here!’’ he said. ‘’Stand here, and speak up!’’
Two boys arose from behind him with water filled eyes—shoulders drooped, eyes frantically scanning the disappointed faces of the crowd. It was clear that they have been shamed.
They apologized to Rasimba for taking his coconuts and claimed that they did not know who was stealing the chickens and cooking them in the forest. The gathering continued for another half hour as Benobmie drilled the children until one boy finally gave him a list of four names.
Besides public humiliation, the boys had to pay for each coconut and each chicken that was taken.
(I wrote this before my accident, because people have had questions about my safety and security at site).
10/24/08
Coming to Terms with the Reality of Things—what did I get out of all this? A lesson on what Peace Corps is all about.
When I returned to my village earlier this week I wasn’t sure what I was going to be returning to. A garden full of dead plants, a house full of rat poop, a blood stained floor, and moldy food, all I knew was inevitable. But what I ultimately got when I returned on Monday was a lesson of what this experience is all about. If you have read previous posts, its clear that I’ve been suffering from a lot of self-induced doubt about my work here—am I doing enough and am I being productive? It’s clear now that assessing progress through a ‘’western perspective’’ will never work here.
Everyday when I wake-up..I’m doing something. Every smile I bring…I’m doing something. Every person who has asked about my finger or by overall well-being…proves that I’ve done something.
My progress here is displayed on the face of Juno when he greets me everyday with a grin from ear to ear. It’s displayed in the words of Sosony when he continually told me how he missed having me around. It’s shown in the newly found confidence displayed by Kolasy when he is interacting and working around foreigners. The reality of this situation is that vegetables die, food rots, and cook stoves break. But it’s the intangible, the unnoticed, and the personal relationships that matter most. That’s what is and will ultimately be ‘sustainable.’ This experience here is mine, its time I accept it for what it is. People will continually judge, ask, and wonder. But they will never really know. They don’t live here. They camp for a week, visit for a day, or read a report from an office. Non-of-which will ever fully capture the reality of my situation here.
10/27/08
It’s a Celebration
Today my brother got married. Between spreading the joy by telling everyone I know that a HUGE party was taking place in America. I spent most of the afternoon with just about every able bodied person trudging through marsh trying to distinguish a brush fire. The reality and dangers of ‘slash and burn’ agriculture on an exposed wind swept field. The good news is that no one was injured, no houses burned, and no cassava fields damaged.
The day ended with the purchase of a beer (a rarity when at site) and a communal gathering with Sosony and his family as we ‘’toasted’’ to my brother and new sister’s good fortune and future life together! Cheers!
10/29/08
The Egos in the World of Development and the Complications that Follow
Its no mystery that Peace Corps or the ‘challenge’ of Peace Corps attracts some highly qualified, bright, and very opinionated people. My closest Peace Crops friends went to Dartmouth and Yale. Half of my training group has a graduate degree (Law, Engineering, Political Science, Marine Biology, and Conservation are just a few). Even the people who work for or volunteer with my partnering organization have degrees and graduate degrees from highly reputable institutions (Oxford, Cambridge, St. Andrews, London School of Economics). On the one hand it’s great that this type of work can attract the best and the brightest. On the other hand it creates an environment of what I find to be full of unnecessary tension and competition. Everyone has the same goal in mind (Development), but it easily takes a back seat to individual gains and interests. Publications, organization/self-promotion, and thoughts of future careers can quickly over shadow any idealism.
At the organization level, you have a large number of NGOs, many providing the same services, competing among each other for the same grants, funding streams, and media attention. All adding more tension to an already highly competitive field.
Organizations create artificial boundaries, claiming ‘this’ village or ‘that’ village as their ‘territory.’ Organizational cooperation is rare (we have the funding and the staff…why talk to them..??). It’s a constant race against time. Founding streams go dry, quotas and obligations need to be met and reports compiled.
The three month tale of the Vitamin A Sweet Potato
-Steve visits my site and tells me about this new vitamin A enriched sweet potato.
-Thinking about farming sweet potatoes, I decide to try and get some cuttings.
-I email a contact given to me by Steve—not as easy as it sounds.
-I get a reply a month later and learn that CARE had run a test program back in 2004.
-I talk to a CARE worker in Mahatalaky who has no idea what I’m talking about.
-I resend an email to my contact, who never replies because I later discover that he no longer works in Madagascar.
-I talk to the regional head of CARE who says, ‘’Yea we have them, but not here.’’ He sends me to ASOS (another organization).
-I go to ASOS and talk with a representative who tells me they do have the variety, but they are ‘’not here.’’ ‘’Come back in a month.’’
-I return a month later, still no sweet potato
-I speak with the head of the nutrition program at ASOS (a frustrating experience with my limited Gasy). He gives me a map with the name of what I though was an organization 20k outside of Ft. Dauphin.
-I bike the 20k and discover that the ‘organization’ is a village and I would need to bike another 20k to reach it.
All I wanted was to help by setting up a test plot and see if it would grow in St. Luce. I walk away three months later Potato less and missing my short window to plant.
11/09/08
Damn Johnny, this sucks!
Johnny Appleseed—would have been labeled an evangelical ‘’hippie’’ by today’s standards. He spread the word of god, his love of nature, and apple seeds throughout the American frontier (at the time—Western PA, Ohio, and Indiana). He was no ‘’saint’’ by definition, although a missionary of sorts, he made his money/living setting up apple orchards. Apples were a prized possession for making moon-shine all along the frontier. Johnny was also a little odd. He preferred isolation, enjoyed sleeping outdoors in hollowed logs, and used a potato sack as clothing. Its been said that he once punished his foot for killing an ant by walking shoe-less an entire winter. None of this I particularly relate with—with the exception of having a love for nature and maybe being a bit odd. What I can relate with is the contrast between the two very different worlds he frequented. He was drawn to the wild of the outdoors—slept under trees, lived among Native Americans, and scavenged for food. He also stayed in a place long enough to establish a tree nursery, and witness the establishment of settlements and arrival of settlers, providing them with a much valued commodity. He was a frequently welcomed guest into homes up and down the frontier, receiving a warm meal and place to sleep for the exchange of tales about Indians and the gospel. Although living an entertaining life he was ‘’sandwiched’’ between two very different worlds, never fully belonging to any particular one.
I’m not sure if ‘lost’ would have best described his predicament as much as ‘awkward.’ He never really ‘fit-in’ and I have come to this realization that I, like Johnny, am also ‘’sandwiched.’’ When I run into people from the western world—tourists, volunteers, researchers I find it harder and harder to relate. Conversation quickly runs dry and stories quickly become old. I am still and probably always will be an awkward fit within my community and as my ‘’western’’ conversation skills start to degrade; I start to feel more and more isolated/trapped. I currently find myself ‘sandwiched.’ I wonder if Johnny found his situation as frustrating as I find mine to be.
11/11/08
Curve Balls
Forest Gump’s mother best described life as a box of chocolates and that you will never really know what you’re are going to get. That explanation is the best way to describe daily life here. The curve balls, the things that I don’t see coming and catch me completely off guard only add to my already unpredictable pace of life here. This past week I experienced three. First, I learned that a Gasy friend gets money and ‘nice’ things through gay prostitution (as you can imagine it’s much more complicated). He’s married with a beautiful wife and child. The thought that he is doing it just for money to support his family makes my stomach turn. Second, I discovered that a brick building down the road houses about 300 ‘improved’ unused bee hives (for increasing honey production). Another example of poor managed funding/projects within development. Third, I discovered that the person who runs the environment program for my NGO, owns land (or a patch of forest) in St. Luce. He has already cleared a large portion and plans to clear more—with the hope of building tourist bungalows. (A great example of ‘Tragedy of the Commons’?? An ‘If I don’t someone else will’ mentality??).
11/15/08
Untitled
I can’t help but wonder what everyone thinks when they see me or when they speak to me. To many people I feel like I am just my material possessions. A ball pump, a bike pump, scotch tape, a flash light, a radio. People love to come into my house and gaze wide eyed at my bike, my stove, my books, my solar panels (that run my BLU radio). I can’t stand the type of attention this brings and as you can imagine it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable. You begin to question peoples’ motives. Why are they helping me? What will they ask for later on? Are they just being nice because they want something? I hope I am able to move past this, but I am not sure I ever will.
11/18/08
An Update
So I’ll close with a quick update on things.
My finger tip has grown back (I’m like a lizard). It looks a little odd, but not all that noticeable. People in my village love to show me injures they have had with an antsy, an axe, or a machete. We’ve been laughing a lot, mostly at my expense.
The Humpback Whales are migrating to feeding grounds up north (they move down south to give birth) and they are active— the breeching can be heard at night in my house and I live 3k from the beach.
I took advantage of a school vacation and build five cook stoves near the EPP(elementary school) in St. Luce. A food aid program cooks for the children five days a week.
My neighbor has a Moringa tree that’s maybe four/five months old and 8 feet tall already.
The big question on everyone’s mind—When will Brendan go fishing?
The answer: December
Another big question: Can I have some Tomatoes?
I have started getting informal mandolin lessons—made of fishing wire and wood carved by locals. I’m no good.
I fixed our water-pump today with Scotch Tape—A job that would make my grandfather (a well experienced master of the ‘quick’ fix) very proud.
Helped with some lemur research—I have seen all the lemurs found in St. Luce except for the Collard Brown lemur. I starting to question its existence.
I ate my first sea-urchin the other day and it tastes as you would expect…a spongy texture with a fishy taste.
Because it was written in my notebook—I’ll add it to this post. A quote from ‘One Straw Revolution’ by Masanobu Fakuoka
‘’I believe that a revolution can begin from this one strand of straw. Seen at a glance, this rice straw may appear light and insignificant. Hardly anyone would believe that it could start a revolution. But I have come to realize the weight and power of this one strand of straw.’’
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