So yesterday was Sunday—should be a day of rest. But I wanted to feel productive So I did some laundry, fixed my compost pile (my attempt to make it chicken proof) and began cutting some small pieces of Cassava so I could experiment with a graft (grafting two species of cassava together to increase the plants overall yield).
But before I begin, I want to mention that these chickens are driving me CRAZY, they come into the garden (they are small so they find small openings in my fence) and have killed numerous plants, clawing at the sandy soil (which can get really dry in the afternoon sun)—Its been a constant battle to keep them from completely destroying anything I’ve planted.
8:30am
So …I’ll continue…I start cutting little pieces of cassava, they need to be small and have a clean cut in order for the graft to take.
I cut a piece and its wasnt a clean cut, I moved it inward on the cutting board so I could try again. I bring my ansty back (a universal tool-think clever). As I came down I heard the sound of rustling leaves behind me, which broke my concentration-thinking “Those damn chickens are in my garden again.”
*Wack!*
I feel a sting and adrenaline kicks in…
First thought: Fuck! You Idiot! You Fucking Idiot…I just cut your thumb off!
After realizing my thumb was still in one piece .
Second thought: Fuck! You Idiot! You just cut the tip of your thumb off!
I wasted no time—shaking, I ran inside and grabbed my med kit. It looked bad…blood was dripping everywhere…….I wrapped it and applied pressure….as I was trying to locate my telephone (my site does have cell phone reception now—although it doesn’t always work). Eventually finding it I tied my phone numerous times but no signal. Thoughts raced through my mind…
Is it really that bad? When I cut myself before (that’s right this is my second time), it looked real bad at first but once the bleeding stopped, it turned out only to be minor. …maybe this was the same…
Should I go to Mahatalaky? (the center of my commune has a hospital.) If I go…how? It’s a Sunday and a strong wind (no lobster trucks are running today) Should I bike? It was starting to get hot.
I paced my house for 3 hours pondering these questions and more. I checked my wound twice hoping that each time it would look just a little bit better than before—of course it didn’t.
Sosony (my counter-part) finally arrives from his brother’s funeral a half-day walk from my village. I apologized and told him I cut myself…he quickly gave me his phone…at which point we contacted Lala (runs the environment program for my NGO) who suggested I go to Mahatalaky. The phone goes dead in mid-conversation. I rush back to my house, grab a few things and throw them in my backpack. Sosony comes walking over and I tell him that I should be returning later that afternoon. He helps wrap my thumb up tight. While we wrap he mentions that two people died yesterday in St. Luce while fishing and one was family. I pause and let out a big sigh, he finishes the tape and says “don’t worry about it, get to Mahatalaky quick.” I jump on my bike and go!
It’s now 12:30 and Hot!
As I bike the 15k to Mahatalaky. Thoughts continue to pop in and out of my head…First, this could have been a lot worse. Second—still trying to stay positive- maybe its not all that bad….I start to wonder about the Hospital…maybe the inside is a lot nicer than the outside. This country does continually manage to surprise me….Maybe the doctor is well educated and speaks English.
1:10 I arrive in Mahatalaky.
I try to buy some credit for my phone first, thinking it would be good to call Lala back or my PCMO (Peace Corps doctor). No one has any credit to sell me. ..
I walk into the hospital (a house) and take a seat at a rusty table and the female doctor (doesn’t speak English) removes my wrapping. I try and make light of the situation—telling them how I was farming Bella Hazo and how I’m not very good with a big knife. She takes cotton and cleans the wound, but in the process she manages to re-open it, causing it to bleed again. She lets out a sigh and says that we will need to cut it off….at which point I say….What!….Hold on here!….
I suggest we just wrap it, which she does and I start looking for a phone to call Peace Corps. The hospital didn’t have a phone, but she directed me to a house about 3k away that sites on a hill, where on clear days you can get cell reception from Ft. Dauphin.
As I approach the house, the family come out and greeted me. I tell them that I need to get phone reception and they point to a tree on the side of the house. I climb the tree and a few bars appear on the phone. I try and call and I loose the signal.
They finally invite me inside (realizing my desperation and frustration) and point to a basket hanging on the wall in the corner of the room. When the phone is placed directly in the basket I got a few bars. Thus, I’m standing in some strange family's house, interrupted their meal, talking into a basket (a bit odd). I don’t think these words give justice to how crazy the situation really was. ..
I finally get a hold of Dr. Bruce (PCMO) and after about 40 minutes of phone tag, he thought it would be best for me to make my way to Ft. Dauphin and than to Manambaro (a town 20k outside). They might be able to apply stitches (allowing me to save a tip of the thumb). My NGO gets a car but its about 1 hour and 30 mins away. I start biking thinking that any time saved can only help the situation. It’s now 2:00pm
As I bike I keep getting constant calls….Bruce, Lief (PCPD), Brett (runs my NGO), Rita (Volunteer in Ft. Dauphin), Eric (the driver of the car sent to pick me up). I bike about 20k and get picked up. The time is now 3:30pm
I car rushes to and through Ft. Dauphin. Finally arriving at Manambaro at 4:30pm
I get my thumb looked at be the nurse who, in a much more professional manner (it could be the atmosphere—no doubt still a third world hospital, but had funding through a Church) told me that the cells were dead and I would have to get it cut.
The Doctor finally appears. He takes me to a dark back room and tells me to have a seat on an old in-patient bed. He examines my cut, tells me its not all that bad, re-cleans and wraps it, and tells me that Jesus loves me (again Church funded).
They gave me a few pain killers and some anti-biotics for the night (both Ok with DR. Bruce PCMO) and they told me to return tomorrow when the pharmacist would be in so I could get the rest of my meds (it was a Sunday).
I get to Ft. Dauphin at 6:30pm.
Tell my crazy story a few times, eat a cup of rice, and pass-out.
5:00 am my watch alarm goes off and I start walking to the Taxi Be Station.
I’m able to get in the first full Taxi Be (they don’t leave until full, thus very unpredictable. Full means 4-5 in each a bench seat and 2 in the trunk of a very old car).
I arrive at 7:30 am and meet the two nurses. After a few minutes of small talk they invite me to go to the morning service at church (again Church funded hospital). I thinkWhy not?…Jesus love me…or so I’m told...thus I go to church.
The service ends at 8:30 am. I finally get my meds and pay my bill from yesterday.
But this story doesn’t end…
While picking up my medicine my original doctor, accompanied by another doctor, came and told me they wanted to see me again.
I went back into the examination room and one of the doctors takes another look at my thumb. Realizing the tissue was dead, he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the dead tissue and nail. It hurt! and bled again. He placed my small piece of thumb on the table, cleaned and bandaged me up, while calling the name of the other doctor. When a few minutes passed and the other doctor didn’t arrive, he told me to have a seat in the corner of the examination room. It got awkward because he started invited and treating other patients while I waited. For 30 minutes I sat through the cleaning and repacking of what I think was three deeply infected wounds of three different patients.
When the other doctor finally arrived, he picked up the small piece of thumb examined it for a minute and handed it to me saying I could keep it as a gift and that I was finally "done."
So to wrap up this long story, I am on antibiotics and a painkiller (although I’m in very little pain). I have a “prescription” to get me thumb re-cleaned and re-bandaged every two days at a hospital in Ft. Dauphin. But because I had a small piece of thumb removed (in a local hospital) Peace Corps is sending me to Tana so I can be examined by the PCMO. Under normal situations a trip to Tana would be great, but I didn’t bring anything (not even a change of cloths) when I left St. Luce on Sunday, which adds more stress to an already stressful situation.
I was examining my “gift.” It’s a small corner of my thumb and a large portion of nail—I think the nail will grow back and the cut was on an angle, so it’s hard to predict what it will look like when it finally heals. I did not hit bone, and I can still move and I have feeling. I was VERY lucky!
Overall, this was a valuable learning experience….. Ill keep you posted...
Sep 19, 2008
Volunteer to Change the World
Hello outside world! I needed a quick title for this post and got this one from my wrist. That’s right! Nestled nicely in one of the MANY packages I had waiting for me in Tana was a sweet red wrist band (similar to the Yellow one Lance made famous) but mine came with the Target store logo…(Thank you United Way?) hah!
Thanks to all who sent my care packages—yesterday I polished off the last item, a jar of dark chocolate peanut butter (which my body doesn’t seem to be enjoying) but I really enjoyed eating it.
Also thanks to my family for sending love from Ocean City New Jersey- sounds like everyone had a wonderful time. One of my favorites has to be the detailed map (I think my Grandmother created) which included the beach, boardwalk, and depth of the hotel swimming pool. Priceless!
8/17/08
My IST
Quick Highlights from my IST
-Learning about Bee Keeping with Stan (APCD of Env.). Clad in a green jump suite, which was difficult to see because he was covered in bees. Anyway, the moment when he turned towards us with a huge grin and said ‘’Yea…this is bad. I need smoke’’ as he proceeded to move very slowly with arms extended to the ‘safety’ of the fire. Hah! Apparently when you don’t check the hives everyday the bees can become VERY aggressive. Let’s just say if any of us do bee keeping-we’ll check the hives everyday. I think everyone got stung at least once-they got into our pants….it was crazy…you had to see it…hah!
-Going into Safeway (a grocery store in Tana). It wasn’t just all the stuff… but also what I could do with some of the ‘trash.’ ( plastic bags, containers, cases)
-Charlie lost 25 lbs-not sure about me, but I’ve been told that I look a lot better than I did during training….?? Between Fish, peanuts, and beans—I think I eat more protein than I did in the states.
-Great Stories were shared—taboos, many awkward moments, and my favorite Charlie and Julia’s story about potatoes. (a young married couple, from New York City, she’s a lawyer and he’s a political scientist, both Irish I think…..anyway they no nothing about potatoes, but are charged with solving the mysterious potato famine in their Village--North of Madagascar…hah…it makes a great story!)
8/21/08
Welcome Back—Quick Update
I arrived at site yesterday. IST went well, it was wonderful to see everyone, exchange ideas and share tales of ‘’survival.’’ I also learned how to make a water filter out of sand, charcoal, and a bucket—cool stuff.
Judging by the smiles and laughter. I think my absence was felt. I was only gone for two weeks, but it felt like a month. Thanks to Sosony, the garden survived. In fact, I just eat a dish with fresh green beans and lettuce, both freshly picked yesterday. Mahatavy!
8/22/08
Give me…Give me…Give me…
‘’I….go….home…on…Monday’’ Soza says in real long, slow, drawn-out malagash sentence.
A long pause follows as Soza takes what feels like an eternity to root through his things. For what…? I have no idea… the awkward silence doesn’t phase him. I sit patiently watching, trying hard not to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.
My last encounter with Soza was when I was sick and emerged from the kabone dehydrated and delusional to the sight of him loitering outside my house with the hope that I would teach him English (he lives 15k away in Mahatalaky)
‘’Ahh….etho’’ he finally takes a seat in the chair I offered him five minutes ago.
‘’Vanilla…..four…..thousand…..five…hundred…’’
I smile and tell him politely that I’m not interested in buying vanilla.
He proceeds by opening the plastic container in his hand, which contained a plastic bag, which contained an envelope, which contained a notebook and showed me the photo identification of himself and the words ‘security officer’ written in French.
He lets out a nasty cough and proceeds to take five more minutes and neatly re-packages everything back into its original container. More awkward silence follows.
He finally asks me for a cigarette explaining that he has no money. I’m not sure what to make of Soza, he still gives me feeling of distrust and a bit of suspicion. I gave him a few condoms and a toothbrush (thank you Dr. Goldstein) and told him I had to work.
People ask me for things all the time—a ball, medicine, soap, beer, coffee, money, food.
It’s difficult to feel integrated into a community when you feel like your constantly being ‘’used.’’ It may sound foolish, but I’m more than a ball, soap, and coffee or I would like to think that I am….
8/30/08
It’s like coming from High School and being dropped into Primary School—Frustrating??
Since I’ve returned to site, I’ve been enjoying the company of foreigners-Volunteers with a development program run by my NGO. Its been nice speaking English and having company during meals. But, one question is continually raised—‘’What do you do here?’’ Every time its asked I have to pause. Its not that it catches me off guard, its that I need to sort through and make sense of what it is I am doing here. Peace Corps (Env) doesn’t place you in a community with a nice clear path (with a clear outline of expectations, roles, and responsibilities). They supply you with the tools (support and skills) you can/could use to construct a path.
While trying to describe what I do to one of the guides he asked me how I handle the ‘shock’ (coming from the ‘developed’ place). He asked me ‘’Do you find it frustrating?’’
‘’Why’’ I replied.
‘’Isn’t it like being in High School and being dropped into Primary School?’’
Only frustrating if I knew all the answers or worse believed that I did, which couldn’t be further from the reality of my present situation.
9/1/08
The Outsider—Revisited
Imagine a group of complete strangers coming into your home and asking you personal questions about food. (we have a lot of food in the states, we need to regulate our consumption, and its necessary for our survival—all is true about wood from the forests around St. Luce). Where do you food shop? Home many calories should you eat a day? Is this particular product good or bad? How do you feel about Ice Cream? Do you like this particular super-market?
In the Western world we are conditioned and unaccustomed to filling out surveys—we constantly give our feedback in restaurants, fill out surveys to receive rebates, or go online to report on a company’s outstanding service—but to apply this concept to the developing world….what about cultural differences?
Peace is tow years for a reason—the first year you integrate and the second you aid in creating ‘sustainable’ (in most cases small) changes.
My NGO strated survying/interviewing locals and I’m a little ‘bitter’ about the whole situation (if you haven’t picked up on it yet) because I wasn’t included in the conversations during its creation or given any opportunity for feedback (it was created in the camp 200 meters from my house—not in the office 45k away in Ft. Dauphin). I know its perceived as being intrusive and the majority of answers are going to be ‘’What you want to hear.’’ I’m thinking it….so I’m going to write it…..Why the hell am I here!?
9/2/07
How do you sell an electronic tooth brush-in pieces without clear instructions on how it should be assembled (Cook stoves 2.0)
So, I’ve inherited the fuel effient cookstove project being pushed by my NGO. What does that mean? My NGO dropped off 20 bags of clay, gave me two people for 3 days to build cookstoves—with no clear plan, just a piece of paper with 30 names of people interested in being ‘trained.’
Before, my NGO held a training and built stoves out of cow manure, clay, and sand, but many of these broke (either not mixed well enough, or not dry enough before cooking). PC trained us on building them out of clay, wood ash, and rice hulls. Because its not rice harvest season, we don’t have any rice hulls—A key ingredient that prevents cracking. So its just wood ask and clay, but how much of each? I learned one ratio (with rice hulls), my NGO wants to use another (untested). Yesterday my training partners show up at my door unexpected with a bag of wet clay and want me to start a training, but the clay needs to be dry and sifted first to ensure an even mix. No one (myself included) knows what going on. It’s a big frustrating mess fueled by miscommunication, cultural differences, and ignorance (on both sides).
How to sell an electronic toothbrush—who really knows?
So, we’ve built seven small stoves over three days. We build one using the Peace Corps ratio and six with the instructions given by my NGO. In the past there was a perception set (by whom, no idea) that my NGO would build/fix/and maintain them. I’m working hard to break that expectation. We’ve told people not to use them until completely dry (two weeks). Gave them a clay brick to use to fill cracks and worked hard on pushing the idea that anyone can build one—you don’t need an NGO or an American to do it. They key will be durability. People will want it when they realize the time and money it can save (and reduces smoke). We even built one for my favorite coffee spot (My Starbucks) with the hope that she’ll use it and people will see her using it, thus maybe generate some interest..? (sounds nice, but as I type this her stove is in pieces L--not helping the sale!)
A positive note:
Its amazing how powerful encouragement can be. You tell someone they can do something, they do it, and tell them they did it well….Wow! Its all some people need. Jax (18 years old) had a grin from ear to ear when I told him in-front of family and friends how Mahay (capable) he was at building cookstoves. We’ve build two together and today’s was by far the best. Mahay be izy!
(As I type this Jax’s stove in still drying and in on piece—keep your figures crossed!)
9/11/08
Two brief moments out of a long day with many
‘’E mafana zaho.’’ I hear him mumble in Malagasy as I set my fangady (shovel) next to me. I look up to the sight of Kolasy wearing nothing buy children’s underwear (he’s 30), a cigarette resting between his lips and sweat dripped from his head, while huched over moving the soil around him. He paused for a moment to catch me with what had to have been a huge grin (trying not to let out a big laugh).
‘’Ino..?’’ he asks. ‘’mafana be…’’ He smiles displaying the few teeth he has.
Today I learned the ‘art’ of farming Bella Hazo (Cassava)
‘’Brendan Lee…Mitovy vazaha vo gasy apella?’’ He moves his hand back and forth on the wet clay cook stove (implying a sexual gesture..hah!). We all look at each other for a moment and burst into laughter in unison. I could have been in a high school boys locker room or back at Albright College under the turtle dome waiting for the days workout with the boys XC team. But I wasn’t…I was on the sandy floor of a one room thatched roof hut half a world away training two guys on how to build a fuel efficient cook stove.
Boys will be boys! Hah!
9/19/08
Wrap Up!
So I’m sitting in my house waiting for my ‘rice rocks’ to cool. That’s right! Rice with a lot of rocks. The women in the market ‘sold me’ on the fact that her rice didn’t have a lot of rocks. I even dipped my hand into the sack to inspect it myself—in short, I’m not good at identifying rocks in dry rice and I think that will be the last time I buy rice from someone who claims that it doesn’t have a lot of rocks.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to this trip to Fort Dauphin. A lots been going on it this small community. Volunteers (myself included) have been continually coming and going. A large group in early August studied lemurs and following them was the volunteer group I mentioned earlier. When you walk around its not common to hear the sound of hammers hitting rock—this is because rock collection has begun (the first step in the creation of a road). A project being pushed by both the Govt. and QMM (the mining company). Thus, it’s been a nightmare trying to set vague times to meet, speak, and teach people. I also just came from a big community meeting hosted by QMM about rules and regulations in the protected areas around St. Luce. Tomorrow our commune (Mahatalaky) will be getting electricity — they are having a big party — it also makes St. Luce another step closer towards getting it (inevitable because St. Luce is sited for a big mining project). I’ll post more about this later.
Anyway, its time to eat and I need to pack. Big bike ride tomorrow 45K on a sandy rocky road (need to leave early to avoid the heat of the day).
That’s all for now! Thanks for the love and support!
-Brendan
Thanks to all who sent my care packages—yesterday I polished off the last item, a jar of dark chocolate peanut butter (which my body doesn’t seem to be enjoying) but I really enjoyed eating it.
Also thanks to my family for sending love from Ocean City New Jersey- sounds like everyone had a wonderful time. One of my favorites has to be the detailed map (I think my Grandmother created) which included the beach, boardwalk, and depth of the hotel swimming pool. Priceless!
8/17/08
My IST
Quick Highlights from my IST
-Learning about Bee Keeping with Stan (APCD of Env.). Clad in a green jump suite, which was difficult to see because he was covered in bees. Anyway, the moment when he turned towards us with a huge grin and said ‘’Yea…this is bad. I need smoke’’ as he proceeded to move very slowly with arms extended to the ‘safety’ of the fire. Hah! Apparently when you don’t check the hives everyday the bees can become VERY aggressive. Let’s just say if any of us do bee keeping-we’ll check the hives everyday. I think everyone got stung at least once-they got into our pants….it was crazy…you had to see it…hah!
-Going into Safeway (a grocery store in Tana). It wasn’t just all the stuff… but also what I could do with some of the ‘trash.’ ( plastic bags, containers, cases)
-Charlie lost 25 lbs-not sure about me, but I’ve been told that I look a lot better than I did during training….?? Between Fish, peanuts, and beans—I think I eat more protein than I did in the states.
-Great Stories were shared—taboos, many awkward moments, and my favorite Charlie and Julia’s story about potatoes. (a young married couple, from New York City, she’s a lawyer and he’s a political scientist, both Irish I think…..anyway they no nothing about potatoes, but are charged with solving the mysterious potato famine in their Village--North of Madagascar…hah…it makes a great story!)
8/21/08
Welcome Back—Quick Update
I arrived at site yesterday. IST went well, it was wonderful to see everyone, exchange ideas and share tales of ‘’survival.’’ I also learned how to make a water filter out of sand, charcoal, and a bucket—cool stuff.
Judging by the smiles and laughter. I think my absence was felt. I was only gone for two weeks, but it felt like a month. Thanks to Sosony, the garden survived. In fact, I just eat a dish with fresh green beans and lettuce, both freshly picked yesterday. Mahatavy!
8/22/08
Give me…Give me…Give me…
‘’I….go….home…on…Monday’’ Soza says in real long, slow, drawn-out malagash sentence.
A long pause follows as Soza takes what feels like an eternity to root through his things. For what…? I have no idea… the awkward silence doesn’t phase him. I sit patiently watching, trying hard not to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.
My last encounter with Soza was when I was sick and emerged from the kabone dehydrated and delusional to the sight of him loitering outside my house with the hope that I would teach him English (he lives 15k away in Mahatalaky)
‘’Ahh….etho’’ he finally takes a seat in the chair I offered him five minutes ago.
‘’Vanilla…..four…..thousand…..five…hundred…’’
I smile and tell him politely that I’m not interested in buying vanilla.
He proceeds by opening the plastic container in his hand, which contained a plastic bag, which contained an envelope, which contained a notebook and showed me the photo identification of himself and the words ‘security officer’ written in French.
He lets out a nasty cough and proceeds to take five more minutes and neatly re-packages everything back into its original container. More awkward silence follows.
He finally asks me for a cigarette explaining that he has no money. I’m not sure what to make of Soza, he still gives me feeling of distrust and a bit of suspicion. I gave him a few condoms and a toothbrush (thank you Dr. Goldstein) and told him I had to work.
People ask me for things all the time—a ball, medicine, soap, beer, coffee, money, food.
It’s difficult to feel integrated into a community when you feel like your constantly being ‘’used.’’ It may sound foolish, but I’m more than a ball, soap, and coffee or I would like to think that I am….
8/30/08
It’s like coming from High School and being dropped into Primary School—Frustrating??
Since I’ve returned to site, I’ve been enjoying the company of foreigners-Volunteers with a development program run by my NGO. Its been nice speaking English and having company during meals. But, one question is continually raised—‘’What do you do here?’’ Every time its asked I have to pause. Its not that it catches me off guard, its that I need to sort through and make sense of what it is I am doing here. Peace Corps (Env) doesn’t place you in a community with a nice clear path (with a clear outline of expectations, roles, and responsibilities). They supply you with the tools (support and skills) you can/could use to construct a path.
While trying to describe what I do to one of the guides he asked me how I handle the ‘shock’ (coming from the ‘developed’ place). He asked me ‘’Do you find it frustrating?’’
‘’Why’’ I replied.
‘’Isn’t it like being in High School and being dropped into Primary School?’’
Only frustrating if I knew all the answers or worse believed that I did, which couldn’t be further from the reality of my present situation.
9/1/08
The Outsider—Revisited
Imagine a group of complete strangers coming into your home and asking you personal questions about food. (we have a lot of food in the states, we need to regulate our consumption, and its necessary for our survival—all is true about wood from the forests around St. Luce). Where do you food shop? Home many calories should you eat a day? Is this particular product good or bad? How do you feel about Ice Cream? Do you like this particular super-market?
In the Western world we are conditioned and unaccustomed to filling out surveys—we constantly give our feedback in restaurants, fill out surveys to receive rebates, or go online to report on a company’s outstanding service—but to apply this concept to the developing world….what about cultural differences?
Peace is tow years for a reason—the first year you integrate and the second you aid in creating ‘sustainable’ (in most cases small) changes.
My NGO strated survying/interviewing locals and I’m a little ‘bitter’ about the whole situation (if you haven’t picked up on it yet) because I wasn’t included in the conversations during its creation or given any opportunity for feedback (it was created in the camp 200 meters from my house—not in the office 45k away in Ft. Dauphin). I know its perceived as being intrusive and the majority of answers are going to be ‘’What you want to hear.’’ I’m thinking it….so I’m going to write it…..Why the hell am I here!?
9/2/07
How do you sell an electronic tooth brush-in pieces without clear instructions on how it should be assembled (Cook stoves 2.0)
So, I’ve inherited the fuel effient cookstove project being pushed by my NGO. What does that mean? My NGO dropped off 20 bags of clay, gave me two people for 3 days to build cookstoves—with no clear plan, just a piece of paper with 30 names of people interested in being ‘trained.’
Before, my NGO held a training and built stoves out of cow manure, clay, and sand, but many of these broke (either not mixed well enough, or not dry enough before cooking). PC trained us on building them out of clay, wood ash, and rice hulls. Because its not rice harvest season, we don’t have any rice hulls—A key ingredient that prevents cracking. So its just wood ask and clay, but how much of each? I learned one ratio (with rice hulls), my NGO wants to use another (untested). Yesterday my training partners show up at my door unexpected with a bag of wet clay and want me to start a training, but the clay needs to be dry and sifted first to ensure an even mix. No one (myself included) knows what going on. It’s a big frustrating mess fueled by miscommunication, cultural differences, and ignorance (on both sides).
How to sell an electronic toothbrush—who really knows?
So, we’ve built seven small stoves over three days. We build one using the Peace Corps ratio and six with the instructions given by my NGO. In the past there was a perception set (by whom, no idea) that my NGO would build/fix/and maintain them. I’m working hard to break that expectation. We’ve told people not to use them until completely dry (two weeks). Gave them a clay brick to use to fill cracks and worked hard on pushing the idea that anyone can build one—you don’t need an NGO or an American to do it. They key will be durability. People will want it when they realize the time and money it can save (and reduces smoke). We even built one for my favorite coffee spot (My Starbucks) with the hope that she’ll use it and people will see her using it, thus maybe generate some interest..? (sounds nice, but as I type this her stove is in pieces L--not helping the sale!)
A positive note:
Its amazing how powerful encouragement can be. You tell someone they can do something, they do it, and tell them they did it well….Wow! Its all some people need. Jax (18 years old) had a grin from ear to ear when I told him in-front of family and friends how Mahay (capable) he was at building cookstoves. We’ve build two together and today’s was by far the best. Mahay be izy!
(As I type this Jax’s stove in still drying and in on piece—keep your figures crossed!)
9/11/08
Two brief moments out of a long day with many
‘’E mafana zaho.’’ I hear him mumble in Malagasy as I set my fangady (shovel) next to me. I look up to the sight of Kolasy wearing nothing buy children’s underwear (he’s 30), a cigarette resting between his lips and sweat dripped from his head, while huched over moving the soil around him. He paused for a moment to catch me with what had to have been a huge grin (trying not to let out a big laugh).
‘’Ino..?’’ he asks. ‘’mafana be…’’ He smiles displaying the few teeth he has.
Today I learned the ‘art’ of farming Bella Hazo (Cassava)
‘’Brendan Lee…Mitovy vazaha vo gasy apella?’’ He moves his hand back and forth on the wet clay cook stove (implying a sexual gesture..hah!). We all look at each other for a moment and burst into laughter in unison. I could have been in a high school boys locker room or back at Albright College under the turtle dome waiting for the days workout with the boys XC team. But I wasn’t…I was on the sandy floor of a one room thatched roof hut half a world away training two guys on how to build a fuel efficient cook stove.
Boys will be boys! Hah!
9/19/08
Wrap Up!
So I’m sitting in my house waiting for my ‘rice rocks’ to cool. That’s right! Rice with a lot of rocks. The women in the market ‘sold me’ on the fact that her rice didn’t have a lot of rocks. I even dipped my hand into the sack to inspect it myself—in short, I’m not good at identifying rocks in dry rice and I think that will be the last time I buy rice from someone who claims that it doesn’t have a lot of rocks.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to this trip to Fort Dauphin. A lots been going on it this small community. Volunteers (myself included) have been continually coming and going. A large group in early August studied lemurs and following them was the volunteer group I mentioned earlier. When you walk around its not common to hear the sound of hammers hitting rock—this is because rock collection has begun (the first step in the creation of a road). A project being pushed by both the Govt. and QMM (the mining company). Thus, it’s been a nightmare trying to set vague times to meet, speak, and teach people. I also just came from a big community meeting hosted by QMM about rules and regulations in the protected areas around St. Luce. Tomorrow our commune (Mahatalaky) will be getting electricity — they are having a big party — it also makes St. Luce another step closer towards getting it (inevitable because St. Luce is sited for a big mining project). I’ll post more about this later.
Anyway, its time to eat and I need to pack. Big bike ride tomorrow 45K on a sandy rocky road (need to leave early to avoid the heat of the day).
That’s all for now! Thanks for the love and support!
-Brendan
Aug 8, 2008
Liquid Sunshine= St. Luce doesn't need anymore
It wasn’t an easy last four weeks at site. We have been receiving hard rains and a strong northern wind has made it difficult to fish. No fish = no money = no loaka (side dish). This means for most people just a bowl of white/brown rice. But even rice has become less available because of a dramatic increase in price over the last four weeks. When I fist got to site a cup of Malagasy red rice was 300Ar, now that price is 400Ar and likely to keep going up. This may not seem like much, but when you have a large family that eats 8-10 cups a day, it starts to add up. I guess it’s similar to the increase in food prices experienced in the US (the end of cheap oil = the end of cheap food). Let’s just say we have all been eating a lot more Cassava.
Enjoy!
7-10-08
The Poor as Consumers?—A Seachange in Thinking
Awhile back (about 3 weeks) I got to witness the arrival of the Protector Mobile-a condom education
Vehicle funded by PSI (Population Services International). The men working for PSI greeted and identified me as Peace Corps before I could say a word (sometimes I forget how much I standout).
They didn’t waste anytime and quickly set up a pair of speakers on the roof of their SUV, opened a few boxes in the back, and than to my amazement jumped back inside the vehicle. ‘Strange’—I thought to myself. ‘How effective can they educate from the comfort of the driver and passenger seats?’
Mahagaga zaho-boy was I in for a surprise.
First came the music, creating a bit of excitement. Then came the announcement. I understood every fourth word, but the smiles said it all. A line began to from which quickly became dysfunctional as people stormed the passenger side door with 100Ar in hand. People were eagerly paying 100Ar for a condom-the incentive? An opportunity to win a ‘Protector’ hat, wallet, condom holder, and t-shirt. The shock was that people with little were willing to pay….By creating a game and charging 100Ar, PSI managed to assign value to an object that otherwise would have been valueless to an uneducated individual. (note: winning the lottery only granted you an opportunity to answer questions on the topic of safe sex/condom use-only when answered correctly would people be given prizes).
However, if you put a condom in the hands of a small child it quickly becomes transformed into a balloon, a sling shot, or enjoyed as a chew toy (remind anyone else of the movie Coneheads?)
7-13-09
The Ocean Claims Two
(that morning) As I write this I know very little about what’s going on. Cries echo throughout the village and a large group of people have gathered at the house down the road. My assumption is that a death has occurred—but whom? I don’t know… I walked past to see if I could find someone who could explain what’s going on, what happened….A gloom has fallen over the village. The usual joyful eyes of playful children have been replaced with water filled eyes and a sorrow demeanor. I’ve decided to return to my house and keep my distance.
I really dislike this feeling a mixture of isolation, confusion, sorrow, and loneliness. The cold dampness of the day accompanied with a light drizzle only adds to the mood.
(that afternoon) The ocean claimed two lives-a capsized laka in a rough ocean is a dangerous situation even for a skilled swimmer. One was family of Sosony & Kolastant. I don’t know him well other than the daily ‘Hello’ and the one afternoon we spent together talking about fishing and building lobster traps. He leaves behind four small children.
Its not clear now who the second victim is, but tomorrow I will pay my respects in Malagasy custom to both families (mamangy)
When I was in Alaska (with AmeriCorps) I spent my 4th of July in a Park with some locals from Seaward, Alaska. A few co-workers and I became good friends rather quickly with one ‘local’ in particular and the following couple of nights we invited him to spend his evenings at our campsite near Exit Glacier. One evening after hanging out and indulging in a few drinks (myself not included-because of exhaustion from work that day), our friend got in his car and drove home from our campsite for the last time. That night he flipped his car along the dark road back into town-killing himself on impact.
My experience with death is limited, but both experiences stir-up the same mixed-up batch of emotions. Both individuals were not close enough to be unbearably painful, but close enough to feel the discomfort and share the pain experienced by others-friends/family.
7-16-08
What…?
A few times throughout each week I have moments where I think to myself…’’What the hell am I doing?’’
When I first arrived in Madagascar they were much more frequent, but as I adapt and the ‘abnormal’ becomes ‘normal’ these sudden conscious moments, epiphanies, or awakenings become less apparent during the hustle of everyday activity. An example…..
Yesterday morning as people awoke from the events of the night before (when someone dies its custom to have a wake-no sleep, lots of booze and singing). I noticed the zebu (think bull) across the road was missing. I didn’t think anything of it until that afternoon when I got a knock on my door and was handed two large slabs of zebu meat (still warm).
As an advocate for ‘local food’ my first thought was-‘wow, now that’s local.’ My second thought-‘what am I going to do with all this meat?’
7-20-08
‘’You are the sun; I am the moon; You are the words; I am the tone; Play me…..’’
Hah! I couldn’t think of a title and I just heard Mr. Neil Diamond on the radio (you would not believe the excitement this man generates-and its not just middle/older aged women).
Today as I was shifting rice (removing hulls and rocks-the sand unfortunately stays). I was thinking about some of the things I’ve become really good at over the past 3 months. Here’s a quick list (a good exercise).
1-Shifting Rice: After learning the proper way to use the shohafa, I’m getting better, almost around 30 mins for 3 cups.
2- I can clean a fish pretty darn well- not bad considering the most exposure I got to the sea and its wonderful bounty growing up was the lobster tank at the Pathmark down the street.
3-To my amazement things are growing well in my garden—True, I did volunteer on an organic farm and was a member of a CSA (community supported agriculture farm), but its still like having volunteered with habitat for humanity a few times and than told that you need to build a house—I’ve been learning a lot.
The truth is that the hour/30mins a day spent shifting rice is my least favorite time because its easy for the mind to wander and thoughts of homesickness, doubts about work and/or being productive easily creep into the forefront of thought.
No worries, for every valley has two peaks! …..Neil Diamond….hah!
7/23/08
‘’No...no…its clear to me’’
‘’What is Development? When does someone become Developed’’ Maka asked me in his broken English as we huddled around my world map while sitting on the floor of my house.
I speak English with Maka twice a week and he’s been a huge help with understanding and making sense of my new community and new environment.
When Maka asked me both those questions today images raced through my head-tall buildings, paved roads, industrial farms, people working assembly lines, Jared Diamond (this one a bit odd, but if you read the book Guns, Germs, and Steel you’d know why-he was asked a similar question by a New Guinean friend). I didn’t know where to begin? Is it even possible to explain with a limited vocabulary? The development sector isn’t even sure how development should be defined. I looked development up in my dictionary, read it to him and I wrote out three works: Happy, Healthy, and Productive. I tried to explain that while it’s easy for an outsider to think that St. Luce needs help in all three of these areas and that it is obvious from my perspective (living here for 3 months)-people are happy (despite the conditions) as well as the most productive people I have ever met.
In essence, I told him that it wasn't clear when someone reaches the point of ‘Developed’
I kept trying to explain that it isn’t clear and he kept saying ‘’no…no…its clear to me.’’ Answering his own question, ‘’I think people are ‘developed’ when they wash their hands, they don’t drink [alcohol], they don’t go to the bathroom on the beach….no…no…its clear to me.’’
The brilliance of an eager mind and the blissfulness of ignorance....a priceless moment….
7-26-08
A Cool Roof?
Last time I was in Fort Dauphin, I was with some fellow volunteers from throughout southern Madagascar watching a movie (Transformers) on a portable DVD player (The joyful wonders of the 21st century!). When out of the corner of my eye I saw a mouse scurry under a pile of books on the floor. At which point someone (I will not name-no not me) screamed. As you can imagine conversation quickly turned to all the critter encounters we have all experienced. I told the story of the rat that tormented me for two weeks, while scavenging around my house for food and built a nest in my thatched roof—at which point someone thought it was cool that I even had a thatched roof. I had never really thought about my roof as being ‘cool’ and I guess it does fit with the over romanticized image many (including myself) have before applying/committing to Peace Corps. But, the more I thought about it the more I would rather my roof was made of something different.
My roof is its own ecosystem with all sorts of things living and falling from it. Just the other day while reading a book a lizard fell on my lap (its home to roaches, some giant cricket like creature, and the recent discovery of scorpions!). When the wind blows hard it likes to cover everything with bits of palm.
No….my roof isn’t all that ‘cool.’
7-30-08
Feeling Uncomfortable—could this be my most effective tool?
The ‘stare-down,’ its defensive in American culture. When people walk by and continually stare at me without saying a word-well it gets old and becomes REALLY irritating. Yet, it’s this felling of ‘uncomfort’ that could prove to be my most effective tool as a volunteer. People stare because they are curious-curiosity means interest, and interest breeds opportunity………right?
8-3-08
Coming Up For Air
Did you ever see the movie the Poseidon Adventure? (the original ). Its one of those movies that can easily be found on a Saturday afternoon on TNT or USA. The main idea is that an ocean liner becomes flipped at sea trapping its passengers inside while submerged underwater. The story follows the adventures of a small group of passengers as they struggle to survive. One scene in particular requires the group of characters to swim submerged underwater for an extended period of time. Some jump right in and take the lead, but many of the movie’s characters have doubts, fears, and some even need to be persuaded and encouraged to make the risky plunge into the dark unknown.
This scene sums up my first 3 months at site. In many ways I feel like I’ve been holding my breath, maneuvering around countless hazards, trying to make sense of a very unfamiliar place. Constantly confronting continual doubts-am I doing enough?-am I moving fast enough?-am I going to run out of air? (Keeping with the analogy)
When I joined Peace Corps, I was given some of the best advice form a volunteer who served in New Guinea and Madagascar (helped start the SED program here). After training she told us that ‘‘this experience is ours and ours alone-no two PC experiences are close to being alike.’’
When a fellow volunteer from the south made a surprise visit my first week at site, I remember asking him how he handled the constant ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ experienced daily. He paused, gave a little laugh and told me-‘’You’ve gotta figure that one out of your own…’’ That’s what my first 3 months have been-‘figuring things out on my own.’
I now head to Tana in a few days to take in a breath of fresh air, recharge, and come back with fresh eyes and hopefully new ideas. There is one thing I am curious to discover…In the movie not everyone emerged from the swim—I hope my fellow volunteers and friends were able to beat those odds.
Thanks all for now
Enjoy!
7-10-08
The Poor as Consumers?—A Seachange in Thinking
Awhile back (about 3 weeks) I got to witness the arrival of the Protector Mobile-a condom education
Vehicle funded by PSI (Population Services International). The men working for PSI greeted and identified me as Peace Corps before I could say a word (sometimes I forget how much I standout).
They didn’t waste anytime and quickly set up a pair of speakers on the roof of their SUV, opened a few boxes in the back, and than to my amazement jumped back inside the vehicle. ‘Strange’—I thought to myself. ‘How effective can they educate from the comfort of the driver and passenger seats?’
Mahagaga zaho-boy was I in for a surprise.
First came the music, creating a bit of excitement. Then came the announcement. I understood every fourth word, but the smiles said it all. A line began to from which quickly became dysfunctional as people stormed the passenger side door with 100Ar in hand. People were eagerly paying 100Ar for a condom-the incentive? An opportunity to win a ‘Protector’ hat, wallet, condom holder, and t-shirt. The shock was that people with little were willing to pay….By creating a game and charging 100Ar, PSI managed to assign value to an object that otherwise would have been valueless to an uneducated individual. (note: winning the lottery only granted you an opportunity to answer questions on the topic of safe sex/condom use-only when answered correctly would people be given prizes).
However, if you put a condom in the hands of a small child it quickly becomes transformed into a balloon, a sling shot, or enjoyed as a chew toy (remind anyone else of the movie Coneheads?)
7-13-09
The Ocean Claims Two
(that morning) As I write this I know very little about what’s going on. Cries echo throughout the village and a large group of people have gathered at the house down the road. My assumption is that a death has occurred—but whom? I don’t know… I walked past to see if I could find someone who could explain what’s going on, what happened….A gloom has fallen over the village. The usual joyful eyes of playful children have been replaced with water filled eyes and a sorrow demeanor. I’ve decided to return to my house and keep my distance.
I really dislike this feeling a mixture of isolation, confusion, sorrow, and loneliness. The cold dampness of the day accompanied with a light drizzle only adds to the mood.
(that afternoon) The ocean claimed two lives-a capsized laka in a rough ocean is a dangerous situation even for a skilled swimmer. One was family of Sosony & Kolastant. I don’t know him well other than the daily ‘Hello’ and the one afternoon we spent together talking about fishing and building lobster traps. He leaves behind four small children.
Its not clear now who the second victim is, but tomorrow I will pay my respects in Malagasy custom to both families (mamangy)
When I was in Alaska (with AmeriCorps) I spent my 4th of July in a Park with some locals from Seaward, Alaska. A few co-workers and I became good friends rather quickly with one ‘local’ in particular and the following couple of nights we invited him to spend his evenings at our campsite near Exit Glacier. One evening after hanging out and indulging in a few drinks (myself not included-because of exhaustion from work that day), our friend got in his car and drove home from our campsite for the last time. That night he flipped his car along the dark road back into town-killing himself on impact.
My experience with death is limited, but both experiences stir-up the same mixed-up batch of emotions. Both individuals were not close enough to be unbearably painful, but close enough to feel the discomfort and share the pain experienced by others-friends/family.
7-16-08
What…?
A few times throughout each week I have moments where I think to myself…’’What the hell am I doing?’’
When I first arrived in Madagascar they were much more frequent, but as I adapt and the ‘abnormal’ becomes ‘normal’ these sudden conscious moments, epiphanies, or awakenings become less apparent during the hustle of everyday activity. An example…..
Yesterday morning as people awoke from the events of the night before (when someone dies its custom to have a wake-no sleep, lots of booze and singing). I noticed the zebu (think bull) across the road was missing. I didn’t think anything of it until that afternoon when I got a knock on my door and was handed two large slabs of zebu meat (still warm).
As an advocate for ‘local food’ my first thought was-‘wow, now that’s local.’ My second thought-‘what am I going to do with all this meat?’
7-20-08
‘’You are the sun; I am the moon; You are the words; I am the tone; Play me…..’’
Hah! I couldn’t think of a title and I just heard Mr. Neil Diamond on the radio (you would not believe the excitement this man generates-and its not just middle/older aged women).
Today as I was shifting rice (removing hulls and rocks-the sand unfortunately stays). I was thinking about some of the things I’ve become really good at over the past 3 months. Here’s a quick list (a good exercise).
1-Shifting Rice: After learning the proper way to use the shohafa, I’m getting better, almost around 30 mins for 3 cups.
2- I can clean a fish pretty darn well- not bad considering the most exposure I got to the sea and its wonderful bounty growing up was the lobster tank at the Pathmark down the street.
3-To my amazement things are growing well in my garden—True, I did volunteer on an organic farm and was a member of a CSA (community supported agriculture farm), but its still like having volunteered with habitat for humanity a few times and than told that you need to build a house—I’ve been learning a lot.
The truth is that the hour/30mins a day spent shifting rice is my least favorite time because its easy for the mind to wander and thoughts of homesickness, doubts about work and/or being productive easily creep into the forefront of thought.
No worries, for every valley has two peaks! …..Neil Diamond….hah!
7/23/08
‘’No...no…its clear to me’’
‘’What is Development? When does someone become Developed’’ Maka asked me in his broken English as we huddled around my world map while sitting on the floor of my house.
I speak English with Maka twice a week and he’s been a huge help with understanding and making sense of my new community and new environment.
When Maka asked me both those questions today images raced through my head-tall buildings, paved roads, industrial farms, people working assembly lines, Jared Diamond (this one a bit odd, but if you read the book Guns, Germs, and Steel you’d know why-he was asked a similar question by a New Guinean friend). I didn’t know where to begin? Is it even possible to explain with a limited vocabulary? The development sector isn’t even sure how development should be defined. I looked development up in my dictionary, read it to him and I wrote out three works: Happy, Healthy, and Productive. I tried to explain that while it’s easy for an outsider to think that St. Luce needs help in all three of these areas and that it is obvious from my perspective (living here for 3 months)-people are happy (despite the conditions) as well as the most productive people I have ever met.
In essence, I told him that it wasn't clear when someone reaches the point of ‘Developed’
I kept trying to explain that it isn’t clear and he kept saying ‘’no…no…its clear to me.’’ Answering his own question, ‘’I think people are ‘developed’ when they wash their hands, they don’t drink [alcohol], they don’t go to the bathroom on the beach….no…no…its clear to me.’’
The brilliance of an eager mind and the blissfulness of ignorance....a priceless moment….
7-26-08
A Cool Roof?
Last time I was in Fort Dauphin, I was with some fellow volunteers from throughout southern Madagascar watching a movie (Transformers) on a portable DVD player (The joyful wonders of the 21st century!). When out of the corner of my eye I saw a mouse scurry under a pile of books on the floor. At which point someone (I will not name-no not me) screamed. As you can imagine conversation quickly turned to all the critter encounters we have all experienced. I told the story of the rat that tormented me for two weeks, while scavenging around my house for food and built a nest in my thatched roof—at which point someone thought it was cool that I even had a thatched roof. I had never really thought about my roof as being ‘cool’ and I guess it does fit with the over romanticized image many (including myself) have before applying/committing to Peace Corps. But, the more I thought about it the more I would rather my roof was made of something different.
My roof is its own ecosystem with all sorts of things living and falling from it. Just the other day while reading a book a lizard fell on my lap (its home to roaches, some giant cricket like creature, and the recent discovery of scorpions!). When the wind blows hard it likes to cover everything with bits of palm.
No….my roof isn’t all that ‘cool.’
7-30-08
Feeling Uncomfortable—could this be my most effective tool?
The ‘stare-down,’ its defensive in American culture. When people walk by and continually stare at me without saying a word-well it gets old and becomes REALLY irritating. Yet, it’s this felling of ‘uncomfort’ that could prove to be my most effective tool as a volunteer. People stare because they are curious-curiosity means interest, and interest breeds opportunity………right?
8-3-08
Coming Up For Air
Did you ever see the movie the Poseidon Adventure? (the original ). Its one of those movies that can easily be found on a Saturday afternoon on TNT or USA. The main idea is that an ocean liner becomes flipped at sea trapping its passengers inside while submerged underwater. The story follows the adventures of a small group of passengers as they struggle to survive. One scene in particular requires the group of characters to swim submerged underwater for an extended period of time. Some jump right in and take the lead, but many of the movie’s characters have doubts, fears, and some even need to be persuaded and encouraged to make the risky plunge into the dark unknown.
This scene sums up my first 3 months at site. In many ways I feel like I’ve been holding my breath, maneuvering around countless hazards, trying to make sense of a very unfamiliar place. Constantly confronting continual doubts-am I doing enough?-am I moving fast enough?-am I going to run out of air? (Keeping with the analogy)
When I joined Peace Corps, I was given some of the best advice form a volunteer who served in New Guinea and Madagascar (helped start the SED program here). After training she told us that ‘‘this experience is ours and ours alone-no two PC experiences are close to being alike.’’
When a fellow volunteer from the south made a surprise visit my first week at site, I remember asking him how he handled the constant ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ experienced daily. He paused, gave a little laugh and told me-‘’You’ve gotta figure that one out of your own…’’ That’s what my first 3 months have been-‘figuring things out on my own.’
I now head to Tana in a few days to take in a breath of fresh air, recharge, and come back with fresh eyes and hopefully new ideas. There is one thing I am curious to discover…In the movie not everyone emerged from the swim—I hope my fellow volunteers and friends were able to beat those odds.
Thanks all for now
Jul 4, 2008
Vaovoa
Doing this for the 2nd time...the joy of things that dont work right.
6/10/08
Comfortable being a "have"
Imagine a person moving in next door, they have a big house, they have nice things, a company car, they can buy food with ease and with the luxury of choice. Imagine being that “rich” person (me).
I’m struggling coming to terms with this reality. Everywhere I go I am watched with a continual gaze-part envy and part curiosity. My bike is like having a Land Rover when only a lucky few have a Ford-Pinto.
What is the Poverty like in St. Luce?
As mentioned before, my host family would have been one of the poorest in the community we trained in-St. Luce makes my host family seem well off.
If you’re a male you fish-good money, but the sea is unpredictable. Women care for children, farm cassava and sell extra fish and cassava to fellow villagers (family) and the porters that bring the daily fish to the main road 15k (Mahatalaky) to go to market.
The Sea is the like-line of the community. Every respectable family owns a boat. Wealth does exist here….and its more apparent the longer I live here. Some have nice cloths, larger houses, can eat a more varied diet (some could be considered overweight by US standards)
Wealth is expressed in a feeling of comfort. Peace Corps gives me a modest living allowance $24 USD a month, its small but still makes me feel like a millionaire at times.
6-11-08
Another Development Downer
If you have a toothbrush and it works-no cavities, no issues. Why would you put your life on hold to learn about a new electrical version? (Best analogy I could come up with-guess what I was doing when I came up with it?)
This is the situation my NGO found itself in today—a common experience in the “murky waters” of development.
THE SITUATION:
We want to save the forest. People cut down the forest for firewood. Introducing feul efficient cook stoves seems like a rational solution. Decrease the amount of firewood and save trees. Funding was found and the project implemented. Six people showed up for the training .
In Anthropology its called the emic vs. etic perspective (insider vs. outsider view) . What seems practical as an outsider doesn’t always take into account those you are trying to help. We know that the forest needs—Stop cutting it down! What about the people? What are their wants and needs?
After today I began to recognize that this will be a large part of my job here. Helping to bridge two very different worlds….
*Taken from the book ‘Out of Poverty”
Food for thought…..
“Sadly, the people in charge of the world’s poverty programs rarely focus on simple solutions, and the monumental investments made in poverty programs rarely focus on simple solutions, and the monumental investments make in poverty eradication initiatives have at best produced meager results.”
“We have invested a staggering $568 billion in development aid in Africa over the past 42 years and have very little to show for it”, says William Easterly, formerly a senior economist at the World Bank. Over those same 42 yrs. The per capita growth rate of the median African nation has stayed close to zero. “
Why...?
6-15-08
The Joy of Play
The children here are remarkable! I read recently a quote (from a book given to me by Mrs. Joanie Perkins) that said something along the lines that “the issue with US poverty is that the “poor” in the US have forgotten how to be “poor.” We all live in the suburbs with nice things and where more is better.
The children here don’t need Ipods, video games, or TVs, they invent their own entertainment. Here is a small list of what I’ve seen. Each can entertain for hours.
Tapy- an unripe Nato fruit with a stick through the middle. Used as a top and is spun with a rope.
Picutre drawling in the dirt (universal)
Valala- a live cricket tied to a string (think top plane, but living)
Capshill- a game played like shuffle board with old bottle caps.
Kanett- a game played with marbles (kind of like mini-golf…?)
A bombill- a stick with a bottle tied to the end-makes a neat noise when you drag it. Some have wheels.
Toy Laka- Built out of a Papaya. They play in puddles with it.
I watched a kid build a moto out of sticks (no need for Power Wheels here!)
6-17-08
A Long Day
I thought it would be a good idea to eat some greens this week and bought them from a friend—Lets just say I must have missed a step in treating them before eating them.
Being sick here is not like being sick at home. Your are alone—No TV, a pounding head makes reading difficult, body achs restricts movement (no radio). What do you do between frequent trips to the hole in the ground?
Its just my bed, the four walls of my house, the sound of shouting children (think inner-city park), a Nalgene full of salt water (oral rehydration salts), and my aches and pains.
Today I missed Home….really bad…
6-20-08
My Subsistence
“God….if I know it was going to be this bad I would have brought your some vegetables.”
-Steve, Director of Peace Corps Madagascar
Steve came for a surprise visit today to check up on things, he was in the area and took advantage by visiting volunteers in the Ft. Dauphin region. His comment above made me stop and reflect on my food situation here. My diet doesn’t get much variety but its getting better as I get more inventive the longer I am here. I have four staple food that I know I can always get, they include rice, cassava, and peanuts. Veggies are rare-I’m lucky if I can buy a green pepper at my market. Onions are really the only veg. easily found and available in St. Luce. The wonderful news is that I have a garden right now and if all goes well I should have beans, peas, onions, garlic, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, potatoes, bananas, and watermelon all in a few months…..
*I’m not starving, don’t panic!
Its strange how removed you become. It took a comment like Steve’s to remind me what I have to look forward to when I go to Ft. Dauphin and Tana. By the way…I had no problems eating all that junk food he brought.
6-27-08
A Middle Class
I live on less than one US dollar a day. But I’m not the only one who has expendable income.
I was sitting reading a book by candle light when I heard the knock on the door.
“Ody Oh!...Salama eh!”
It was Kolastant.
After the standard greeting, he invited me over to his father’s house (Sasony-my counterpart).
I quickly grabbed a sweat shirt and closed/locked my door. We walked the 200 meters down the sandy road to Sasony’s. (Quickly stopping along the way so he could replenish an old coke bottle with some moonshine-homemade rum made of sugarcane)
As we approached Sasony’s house the sound of music and the hum of a generator became more prominent. I knew Sasony had just returned from Ft. Dauphin, buy I had no idea he purchased a generator. As I approached the doorway it was clearly noticeable that the room was not only lit from the warm glow of a low watt bulb, but with the smiles and laughter of everyone packed inside the small 2 room hut.
I took a seat next to Sasony in the corner. For 3 hours we sat-I danced a little to the five songs that were played on repeat. He sat motionless with a small grin while he soaked up the radiant joy of the room packed with his grandchildren. The children danced themselves to complete exhaustion.
There is a “middle class” here but its an elite. A private club with only a few lucky members. They work for my NGO (ie Sasony) , they work for the mining company, which has a small camp that employs locals as guards and caretakers, and they work for the Madagascar govt. (as school teachers, politicians, or implementers of national programs-nutrition). The small shop holders do well, but all work or have worked in one the 3 groups mentioned (that’s how they got the start-up capitol). It’s a small version of the “power elite.”
Thinking about it, maybe Jeff Sachs (economist in charge of the UN’s millennium initiative) is correct when he suggests giving everyone 500 USD as a legitimate way out of pversty. It seems that the members of the “Elite” here have been given opportunity from a 3rd party and have invested it to increase wealth. (Sasony plans on using the generator to start a little movie theater showing films for a small price).
6-29-08
My Starbucks
Since I come from a family of diehard coffee drinkers I feel it is approapriate for me to comment on my “Starbucks” a.k.a Madame Sarahfyn’s coffee.
The coffe here is an “local” as coffee can get. The coffee is farmed 80k away in the town of Ranomifana (I visited PC friends and have seen the coffee growing under the shade of Neem Trees).
Sarahfyn’s coffee is the best in St. Luce. (I have tried all) She gives the most, which as an American I like…I tell here all the time her coffee is the same as in American..Delicious! She even has pastries, small fried dough balls. All my walks usually include a visit and I usually bring a bucket along to collect her coffee ground for my garden (great compost!)
7/1/08
A call to Culture and the Guilt that Follows
I’m not sure if its because I was an anthropology major in college or I just over think things…but they thought of teaching English here makes me feel a bit guilty, like I am destroying something “unique” by helping to assimilate yet another group of people into the mono-culture of the global world.
English has been adapted by the govt. and encouraged in schools and everyone is eager to learn-I get asked at least once a day if I can teach.
One of the goals of Peace Corps is to Educate other ‘Cultures” about American Culture (the ambassador portion of my job). But I need help this task. You can help by including a cultural picture item with any mail you send. Culture is a broad term and you may be thinking….where do I begin? What would be interesting to share? I assure you that anything would help me in fulfilling this part of my job. Peace Corps already provides me with Newsweek Mags., but most of the picture are political (Picture are the best).
I just want to say Thank You. I haven’t been receiving mail since I arrived at site- two months now-and is one of the many things I need talk with PC headquarters about. Anyway, thank you friends, family and past Co-workers (United Way) for all the support! It helps in a BIG way.
7-4-08
Happy Independance Day!
I wanted to just write quickly about the progression of things here. I’m tow months at site and each passing day feels more and more comfortable. Although each day is a rollercoaster with its many peaks and valleys, overall things are good. This experience is providing me with one hell of a challenge….this is hard!
Communication/language is still a struggle. Generally they pace of things is slow and the daily routine is as unpredictable as the sea. You are always in the “hot seat.” Continually learning from mistakes, answering questions, surviving—sleep is the only real time for rest.
The cook stoves my NGO built has cracked—we think the damp weather didn’t aid in them completely drying before being used.
We planted 300 moringa trees a month ago for Env. Day most of which have died. The eight (not ten) that I planted near my house are doing real well and I’m currently building a sign and promotional poster to display near them.
I’m working with a local on deigning a t-shirt to use a s a possible fund-raiser (more details to come). Still working on logistics. I’ll post more about this later.
The garden is doing well—all my seed with the exception of Basil have germinated. My tomatoes are another story, they have developed a purple tint on the underside of the leaves and aren’t growing (a nutrient deficiency-phosphorus I think…) I’m experimenting with some organic fertilizers-urine, cow tea, kelp.
I hope to get in contact with a guy from USAID (State Dept Aid program) about a new variety of sweet potato with more nutritional benefits than the variety already being grown.
I have IST (in service training) in August and look forward to seeing friends and learning about funding opportunities for various projects.
Thank you all for the support (prayers, letters, emails, and comments) please keep them coming. Also, I have just learned that my Grandmother is going into Surgery-I don’t know any details. But thoughts and prayers are always welcome!
Thank you and until next time,
-Brendan
6/10/08
Comfortable being a "have"
Imagine a person moving in next door, they have a big house, they have nice things, a company car, they can buy food with ease and with the luxury of choice. Imagine being that “rich” person (me).
I’m struggling coming to terms with this reality. Everywhere I go I am watched with a continual gaze-part envy and part curiosity. My bike is like having a Land Rover when only a lucky few have a Ford-Pinto.
What is the Poverty like in St. Luce?
As mentioned before, my host family would have been one of the poorest in the community we trained in-St. Luce makes my host family seem well off.
If you’re a male you fish-good money, but the sea is unpredictable. Women care for children, farm cassava and sell extra fish and cassava to fellow villagers (family) and the porters that bring the daily fish to the main road 15k (Mahatalaky) to go to market.
The Sea is the like-line of the community. Every respectable family owns a boat. Wealth does exist here….and its more apparent the longer I live here. Some have nice cloths, larger houses, can eat a more varied diet (some could be considered overweight by US standards)
Wealth is expressed in a feeling of comfort. Peace Corps gives me a modest living allowance $24 USD a month, its small but still makes me feel like a millionaire at times.
6-11-08
Another Development Downer
If you have a toothbrush and it works-no cavities, no issues. Why would you put your life on hold to learn about a new electrical version? (Best analogy I could come up with-guess what I was doing when I came up with it?)
This is the situation my NGO found itself in today—a common experience in the “murky waters” of development.
THE SITUATION:
We want to save the forest. People cut down the forest for firewood. Introducing feul efficient cook stoves seems like a rational solution. Decrease the amount of firewood and save trees. Funding was found and the project implemented. Six people showed up for the training .
In Anthropology its called the emic vs. etic perspective (insider vs. outsider view) . What seems practical as an outsider doesn’t always take into account those you are trying to help. We know that the forest needs—Stop cutting it down! What about the people? What are their wants and needs?
After today I began to recognize that this will be a large part of my job here. Helping to bridge two very different worlds….
*Taken from the book ‘Out of Poverty”
Food for thought…..
“Sadly, the people in charge of the world’s poverty programs rarely focus on simple solutions, and the monumental investments made in poverty programs rarely focus on simple solutions, and the monumental investments make in poverty eradication initiatives have at best produced meager results.”
“We have invested a staggering $568 billion in development aid in Africa over the past 42 years and have very little to show for it”, says William Easterly, formerly a senior economist at the World Bank. Over those same 42 yrs. The per capita growth rate of the median African nation has stayed close to zero. “
Why...?
6-15-08
The Joy of Play
The children here are remarkable! I read recently a quote (from a book given to me by Mrs. Joanie Perkins) that said something along the lines that “the issue with US poverty is that the “poor” in the US have forgotten how to be “poor.” We all live in the suburbs with nice things and where more is better.
The children here don’t need Ipods, video games, or TVs, they invent their own entertainment. Here is a small list of what I’ve seen. Each can entertain for hours.
Tapy- an unripe Nato fruit with a stick through the middle. Used as a top and is spun with a rope.
Picutre drawling in the dirt (universal)
Valala- a live cricket tied to a string (think top plane, but living)
Capshill- a game played like shuffle board with old bottle caps.
Kanett- a game played with marbles (kind of like mini-golf…?)
A bombill- a stick with a bottle tied to the end-makes a neat noise when you drag it. Some have wheels.
Toy Laka- Built out of a Papaya. They play in puddles with it.
I watched a kid build a moto out of sticks (no need for Power Wheels here!)
6-17-08
A Long Day
I thought it would be a good idea to eat some greens this week and bought them from a friend—Lets just say I must have missed a step in treating them before eating them.
Being sick here is not like being sick at home. Your are alone—No TV, a pounding head makes reading difficult, body achs restricts movement (no radio). What do you do between frequent trips to the hole in the ground?
Its just my bed, the four walls of my house, the sound of shouting children (think inner-city park), a Nalgene full of salt water (oral rehydration salts), and my aches and pains.
Today I missed Home….really bad…
6-20-08
My Subsistence
“God….if I know it was going to be this bad I would have brought your some vegetables.”
-Steve, Director of Peace Corps Madagascar
Steve came for a surprise visit today to check up on things, he was in the area and took advantage by visiting volunteers in the Ft. Dauphin region. His comment above made me stop and reflect on my food situation here. My diet doesn’t get much variety but its getting better as I get more inventive the longer I am here. I have four staple food that I know I can always get, they include rice, cassava, and peanuts. Veggies are rare-I’m lucky if I can buy a green pepper at my market. Onions are really the only veg. easily found and available in St. Luce. The wonderful news is that I have a garden right now and if all goes well I should have beans, peas, onions, garlic, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, potatoes, bananas, and watermelon all in a few months…..
*I’m not starving, don’t panic!
Its strange how removed you become. It took a comment like Steve’s to remind me what I have to look forward to when I go to Ft. Dauphin and Tana. By the way…I had no problems eating all that junk food he brought.
6-27-08
A Middle Class
I live on less than one US dollar a day. But I’m not the only one who has expendable income.
I was sitting reading a book by candle light when I heard the knock on the door.
“Ody Oh!...Salama eh!”
It was Kolastant.
After the standard greeting, he invited me over to his father’s house (Sasony-my counterpart).
I quickly grabbed a sweat shirt and closed/locked my door. We walked the 200 meters down the sandy road to Sasony’s. (Quickly stopping along the way so he could replenish an old coke bottle with some moonshine-homemade rum made of sugarcane)
As we approached Sasony’s house the sound of music and the hum of a generator became more prominent. I knew Sasony had just returned from Ft. Dauphin, buy I had no idea he purchased a generator. As I approached the doorway it was clearly noticeable that the room was not only lit from the warm glow of a low watt bulb, but with the smiles and laughter of everyone packed inside the small 2 room hut.
I took a seat next to Sasony in the corner. For 3 hours we sat-I danced a little to the five songs that were played on repeat. He sat motionless with a small grin while he soaked up the radiant joy of the room packed with his grandchildren. The children danced themselves to complete exhaustion.
There is a “middle class” here but its an elite. A private club with only a few lucky members. They work for my NGO (ie Sasony) , they work for the mining company, which has a small camp that employs locals as guards and caretakers, and they work for the Madagascar govt. (as school teachers, politicians, or implementers of national programs-nutrition). The small shop holders do well, but all work or have worked in one the 3 groups mentioned (that’s how they got the start-up capitol). It’s a small version of the “power elite.”
Thinking about it, maybe Jeff Sachs (economist in charge of the UN’s millennium initiative) is correct when he suggests giving everyone 500 USD as a legitimate way out of pversty. It seems that the members of the “Elite” here have been given opportunity from a 3rd party and have invested it to increase wealth. (Sasony plans on using the generator to start a little movie theater showing films for a small price).
6-29-08
My Starbucks
Since I come from a family of diehard coffee drinkers I feel it is approapriate for me to comment on my “Starbucks” a.k.a Madame Sarahfyn’s coffee.
The coffe here is an “local” as coffee can get. The coffee is farmed 80k away in the town of Ranomifana (I visited PC friends and have seen the coffee growing under the shade of Neem Trees).
Sarahfyn’s coffee is the best in St. Luce. (I have tried all) She gives the most, which as an American I like…I tell here all the time her coffee is the same as in American..Delicious! She even has pastries, small fried dough balls. All my walks usually include a visit and I usually bring a bucket along to collect her coffee ground for my garden (great compost!)
7/1/08
A call to Culture and the Guilt that Follows
I’m not sure if its because I was an anthropology major in college or I just over think things…but they thought of teaching English here makes me feel a bit guilty, like I am destroying something “unique” by helping to assimilate yet another group of people into the mono-culture of the global world.
English has been adapted by the govt. and encouraged in schools and everyone is eager to learn-I get asked at least once a day if I can teach.
One of the goals of Peace Corps is to Educate other ‘Cultures” about American Culture (the ambassador portion of my job). But I need help this task. You can help by including a cultural picture item with any mail you send. Culture is a broad term and you may be thinking….where do I begin? What would be interesting to share? I assure you that anything would help me in fulfilling this part of my job. Peace Corps already provides me with Newsweek Mags., but most of the picture are political (Picture are the best).
I just want to say Thank You. I haven’t been receiving mail since I arrived at site- two months now-and is one of the many things I need talk with PC headquarters about. Anyway, thank you friends, family and past Co-workers (United Way) for all the support! It helps in a BIG way.
7-4-08
Happy Independance Day!
I wanted to just write quickly about the progression of things here. I’m tow months at site and each passing day feels more and more comfortable. Although each day is a rollercoaster with its many peaks and valleys, overall things are good. This experience is providing me with one hell of a challenge….this is hard!
Communication/language is still a struggle. Generally they pace of things is slow and the daily routine is as unpredictable as the sea. You are always in the “hot seat.” Continually learning from mistakes, answering questions, surviving—sleep is the only real time for rest.
The cook stoves my NGO built has cracked—we think the damp weather didn’t aid in them completely drying before being used.
We planted 300 moringa trees a month ago for Env. Day most of which have died. The eight (not ten) that I planted near my house are doing real well and I’m currently building a sign and promotional poster to display near them.
I’m working with a local on deigning a t-shirt to use a s a possible fund-raiser (more details to come). Still working on logistics. I’ll post more about this later.
The garden is doing well—all my seed with the exception of Basil have germinated. My tomatoes are another story, they have developed a purple tint on the underside of the leaves and aren’t growing (a nutrient deficiency-phosphorus I think…) I’m experimenting with some organic fertilizers-urine, cow tea, kelp.
I hope to get in contact with a guy from USAID (State Dept Aid program) about a new variety of sweet potato with more nutritional benefits than the variety already being grown.
I have IST (in service training) in August and look forward to seeing friends and learning about funding opportunities for various projects.
Thank you all for the support (prayers, letters, emails, and comments) please keep them coming. Also, I have just learned that my Grandmother is going into Surgery-I don’t know any details. But thoughts and prayers are always welcome!
Thank you and until next time,
-Brendan
Jun 6, 2008
A Mix of Things
OMG: Brendan Ward is alive and well! Praise be! Because I will not be able to post often, I started to write stuff down in a journal and post it all at once. We'll see how this goes!
5/08/08
The Welcoming
"Hey! Its wonderful to see you again."
".....you as well!" I hesitated with a response because I couldnt match the face and voice.
"Welcome to St. Luce, we are all ecited to come and watch this afternoon."
"Watch what?" I said. I was having trouble gathering my thoughts after the 2 hour car ride.
"The big town meeting." she responded
______WELCOME TO ST.LUCE!____________
"Brendan!"
"Yes Stan!" I resplied
"Yea...Im going to talk and see if I stay here tonight."
"Okay, ill wait here." The ocean breeze felt good, but even the ocean view and beach full of small fishing boats did little to calm my nerves. I was trying hard to think of anything....anything to get my mind away from the overwhelming feeling of uncomfort I was feeling.
"What the hell am I doing here?" I said outload.
"Brendan!"
Shit its Raymond the driver, it must be time. I take the opportunity to degrade myself one last time. "You idiot! I should not be here...."
I jump in the car and Stan isnt inside.
"Eza i Stan?" I ask
Raymond doesnt respond he just continues to look forward.
We drive down the road and around a few houses into the crowd slowly gathering in the center of the thatched hut village.
"oh, great!" I think to myslef. Of course the new white guy needs to be driven everywhere.
I step out of the car and curious eyes follow my everymove. We wait longer as more people gather. I try and make small talk with the kids that have gathered around me. I regurgitate some vocab, trying to put words together to make a sentance. I know it makes little sense but the kids smile.
Two chairs are placed in the front of the crowd, facing a row of chairs filled by the political power of the commune. Stan and I take are seats in front of the gazing eyes of the crowd.
"Stan, should I have prepared somthing more formal to say." I didn't help that I was sick during the lesson given on Malagasy speeches.
"Yea, no problem you do your best man."
I found little comfort in those words.
The mayor of the commune spoke first, followed by the Shef Fokatany.
After we were introduced by both men, Stan turned to tell me that he would speak first.
Thank god!
In true Malagasy fashion each man took 10 mins to make his point. I tryed hard to observe each man. The movement, the little eye contact, the tone of the voice. Was this any different than any other thing I've done--A room of trustees, of students, of non-profit reps.
=My speech in Gasy=
Ladies and Gentlemen
First I want to greet you all today. Its nice to be done training in Tana and to be living here. My name is Brendan. I'm a Peace COrps Volunteer working in the Enviornment Sector. I'm not good with the ganguage and I'm not good with the culture, but we will work and learn together (note: I mix up work and learn all the time-but both worked well in this situation). Its nice to have a new home and a new family. Nice to meet you all. Thank you.
After I spoke the crowd rumbled with laughter followed by "Miahy malagash vasa."
Stan turned to me and said " Yea, great speech man" with a grin I'll never forget.
I feeling came over me that I think only Babe the Pig can relate to from the movie Babe. At the end of the movie the farmer turns to Bade and says "That will do Pig, that will do!"
5/15/08
Where a Dilemma Meets Reality
I planted 3 morninga tree seeds next to my house, they survided maybe 24 hours before a few chickens discovered them. The solution....build a fence, its what the locals do and every garden has one. So...I borrowed an ansty from Sasony and wne t to the forest to harvest some wood.
Deforestation is a hudge issue here. Going the 15k from Mahatalaky to Amboatrika (the town I live) is a open hot grassland with few trees. (once all forested). Thus the situation is- don't build a fence and encourage people to garden-malnutrition is a big problem. Or cut down the trees that I'm here to educate the people about protecting.
I need to buy rope for my fence. I walk to Manafiafy
*Conversation in Gasy*
"Hello Sir, how much does this rope cost? (its really vine)
"400 a meter"
"Im building a fence and need something to keep the wood together"
"A fence like this one overhere?"
"Yes"
"Okay, you want to wrap the rope (vine) around like this? This rope isn't good for that, we doent have the rope you need here, this rope is for lobster fishing, you will need to buy the rope you need in Matahlaky. "
"Thank you sir!"
The only thing missing was the orange apron and it could have felt like home.
5/25/08
The closest I will ever get to Racism/Discrimination.
This is worth mentioning because its the closest I will ever get to being discriminated and feeling segregated as a white, middle class, American Male.
First, I've been living here about a month and very few people call me by name-Those that I work with and see daily may call me by name to my face buy when speaking to others about me, my name is never used.
Who am I? I'm a vasa-a name used to classify French/Europeans, but not more broadly to include all non-locals (white people)
Everywhere I go I'm watched-What is he doing? What did he buy? Where is he going?
I experience discriminization everytime I buy somthing-my weak language skills are contantly being exploited. In the market I was denied service because I wouldn't pay double for a cup of peanuts--sounds crazy but true! The goal is to fit in, live and work and be Gasy.
5-30-08
How do you first loneliness?
Last night I woke up to my foot being really really itchy. Lets just say you never feel more alone than being completely alone in the middle of the dark night having to dig out a parasitic egg sack from your foot. (my third try in four weeks to get rid of the thing). This is a feeling that is going to be common during my time here I'm afraid.
6-04-08
The Progression of Things
I want to take the opportunity to comment on my pogress here. (and to end on a good note :))
First, I feel I've done a good job making myslef visible and pople are starting to feel comfortable around me and enjoy speaking to me.
I finished the garden fence. It took awhile to gather the wood and I had a few close calls with the ansty. I should be able to fit 3-4 beds with-in the fence and plant a few fruit trees-its a good size. I even planted some tomatoes and peppers that I hope to transplant when they are mature. The soil is questionable because its sand, which means lots of compost is going to be needed!
I planted 8 moringa trees- My NGO is pushing moringa hard and I was told that promoting its use would be a large portion of my work here ( I will post more about this later). Anywho, because chickens eat everything---I had to build samll enclosures around the young trees, this means I had to go back to the forest.
I built a hot box and it works just like a thermos-bring things to a boil (rice, beans) and Vita (done)--In threory. I'm still working on the rice because you need less water-less water evaporates. It has created a lot of curiousity. (I tell people I don't need an apela (a girl) to cook for me becasue I have a Sabika Mifana, which brings a lot of smiles and laughter. Wait till they see the solar cooker I'm going to build out of my Bike Box!
Composting, Moringa, Solar Cookers....What!
Yest I have/had little to no experience doing all of the above before coming here. Being in Peace Corps is about tinkering and experimenting. Two things I can afford to do while living in this community, a luxory no one else here can do.
5/08/08
The Welcoming
"Hey! Its wonderful to see you again."
".....you as well!" I hesitated with a response because I couldnt match the face and voice.
"Welcome to St. Luce, we are all ecited to come and watch this afternoon."
"Watch what?" I said. I was having trouble gathering my thoughts after the 2 hour car ride.
"The big town meeting." she responded
______WELCOME TO ST.LUCE!____________
"Brendan!"
"Yes Stan!" I resplied
"Yea...Im going to talk and see if I stay here tonight."
"Okay, ill wait here." The ocean breeze felt good, but even the ocean view and beach full of small fishing boats did little to calm my nerves. I was trying hard to think of anything....anything to get my mind away from the overwhelming feeling of uncomfort I was feeling.
"What the hell am I doing here?" I said outload.
"Brendan!"
Shit its Raymond the driver, it must be time. I take the opportunity to degrade myself one last time. "You idiot! I should not be here...."
I jump in the car and Stan isnt inside.
"Eza i Stan?" I ask
Raymond doesnt respond he just continues to look forward.
We drive down the road and around a few houses into the crowd slowly gathering in the center of the thatched hut village.
"oh, great!" I think to myslef. Of course the new white guy needs to be driven everywhere.
I step out of the car and curious eyes follow my everymove. We wait longer as more people gather. I try and make small talk with the kids that have gathered around me. I regurgitate some vocab, trying to put words together to make a sentance. I know it makes little sense but the kids smile.
Two chairs are placed in the front of the crowd, facing a row of chairs filled by the political power of the commune. Stan and I take are seats in front of the gazing eyes of the crowd.
"Stan, should I have prepared somthing more formal to say." I didn't help that I was sick during the lesson given on Malagasy speeches.
"Yea, no problem you do your best man."
I found little comfort in those words.
The mayor of the commune spoke first, followed by the Shef Fokatany.
After we were introduced by both men, Stan turned to tell me that he would speak first.
Thank god!
In true Malagasy fashion each man took 10 mins to make his point. I tryed hard to observe each man. The movement, the little eye contact, the tone of the voice. Was this any different than any other thing I've done--A room of trustees, of students, of non-profit reps.
=My speech in Gasy=
Ladies and Gentlemen
First I want to greet you all today. Its nice to be done training in Tana and to be living here. My name is Brendan. I'm a Peace COrps Volunteer working in the Enviornment Sector. I'm not good with the ganguage and I'm not good with the culture, but we will work and learn together (note: I mix up work and learn all the time-but both worked well in this situation). Its nice to have a new home and a new family. Nice to meet you all. Thank you.
After I spoke the crowd rumbled with laughter followed by "Miahy malagash vasa."
Stan turned to me and said " Yea, great speech man" with a grin I'll never forget.
I feeling came over me that I think only Babe the Pig can relate to from the movie Babe. At the end of the movie the farmer turns to Bade and says "That will do Pig, that will do!"
5/15/08
Where a Dilemma Meets Reality
I planted 3 morninga tree seeds next to my house, they survided maybe 24 hours before a few chickens discovered them. The solution....build a fence, its what the locals do and every garden has one. So...I borrowed an ansty from Sasony and wne t to the forest to harvest some wood.
Deforestation is a hudge issue here. Going the 15k from Mahatalaky to Amboatrika (the town I live) is a open hot grassland with few trees. (once all forested). Thus the situation is- don't build a fence and encourage people to garden-malnutrition is a big problem. Or cut down the trees that I'm here to educate the people about protecting.
I need to buy rope for my fence. I walk to Manafiafy
*Conversation in Gasy*
"Hello Sir, how much does this rope cost? (its really vine)
"400 a meter"
"Im building a fence and need something to keep the wood together"
"A fence like this one overhere?"
"Yes"
"Okay, you want to wrap the rope (vine) around like this? This rope isn't good for that, we doent have the rope you need here, this rope is for lobster fishing, you will need to buy the rope you need in Matahlaky. "
"Thank you sir!"
The only thing missing was the orange apron and it could have felt like home.
5/25/08
The closest I will ever get to Racism/Discrimination.
This is worth mentioning because its the closest I will ever get to being discriminated and feeling segregated as a white, middle class, American Male.
First, I've been living here about a month and very few people call me by name-Those that I work with and see daily may call me by name to my face buy when speaking to others about me, my name is never used.
Who am I? I'm a vasa-a name used to classify French/Europeans, but not more broadly to include all non-locals (white people)
Everywhere I go I'm watched-What is he doing? What did he buy? Where is he going?
I experience discriminization everytime I buy somthing-my weak language skills are contantly being exploited. In the market I was denied service because I wouldn't pay double for a cup of peanuts--sounds crazy but true! The goal is to fit in, live and work and be Gasy.
5-30-08
How do you first loneliness?
Last night I woke up to my foot being really really itchy. Lets just say you never feel more alone than being completely alone in the middle of the dark night having to dig out a parasitic egg sack from your foot. (my third try in four weeks to get rid of the thing). This is a feeling that is going to be common during my time here I'm afraid.
6-04-08
The Progression of Things
I want to take the opportunity to comment on my pogress here. (and to end on a good note :))
First, I feel I've done a good job making myslef visible and pople are starting to feel comfortable around me and enjoy speaking to me.
I finished the garden fence. It took awhile to gather the wood and I had a few close calls with the ansty. I should be able to fit 3-4 beds with-in the fence and plant a few fruit trees-its a good size. I even planted some tomatoes and peppers that I hope to transplant when they are mature. The soil is questionable because its sand, which means lots of compost is going to be needed!
I planted 8 moringa trees- My NGO is pushing moringa hard and I was told that promoting its use would be a large portion of my work here ( I will post more about this later). Anywho, because chickens eat everything---I had to build samll enclosures around the young trees, this means I had to go back to the forest.
I built a hot box and it works just like a thermos-bring things to a boil (rice, beans) and Vita (done)--In threory. I'm still working on the rice because you need less water-less water evaporates. It has created a lot of curiousity. (I tell people I don't need an apela (a girl) to cook for me becasue I have a Sabika Mifana, which brings a lot of smiles and laughter. Wait till they see the solar cooker I'm going to build out of my Bike Box!
Composting, Moringa, Solar Cookers....What!
Yest I have/had little to no experience doing all of the above before coming here. Being in Peace Corps is about tinkering and experimenting. Two things I can afford to do while living in this community, a luxory no one else here can do.
Apr 24, 2008
I'm a changed Man!
Now that the chapter of my host family experience here in Madagascar is now over, it seems appropriate for me to list a few highlights (cultural indicators) from the experience that reminded me I';m not in America anymore.
1- The priceless look on my host mother's face my first night when I gave her a box of cookies and she discovered that they had been open...I got a little hungry.
2- Awkward communication with family and others in the village I wont list them. (Lost of frustration around gift giving the last few days).
3- The one year old peeing on the floor in the middle of lunch one day, and the awkward silence that followed.
4- Six-year-olds' taking care of two-year-olds'--a long way from the American daycare system.
5- Cutting a tomato and having my host mom tell me I'm really "smart." She must have had really low expectations.
6- The one-year-old playing with a knife and it was OKAY with everyone.
7- Eating whole fired little fish-for some reason a feeling of comfort came over me when I found out they fished them from the rice field...*Side note: all kinds of little edible creatures come from the rice field once rice is harvested...who knew...?
8- the mysterious light bulbs that hang from strings in a few houses, despite no electricity (I think ites a decoration/status thing)
9- Being told I look like a movie star / Prince Harry / David Beckham.
10- Hitting my head on everthing (i.e. doorways).
11- Eating lots of rice--once you accpet it, its not a meal without it.
12- The Sur'Eau bottles that began to line the shelf in the kitchen as weeks past. PC provides it to host families every week to clean cooking water and soak veggies. I was told it was being used.
13- A crazy Easter I'll never forget, known as "Mitsangasanga."
14-Putting Nicole in awkward sistuations during the first five weeks of language class--it took Fanjava a few weeks until she undertood my sense of humor.
15- On our first tech-trip Stan (the Env. PA) turning to me in the car and saying in broken English "yea...this is the enviornment" --he overheard me complaining about the roads.
16- The chicken that got in my room.
17- Cell phones -"Hello, Hello, Hello....*hang up*"
18- The intense Domie Games with the Family and Family friends.
19- The 1 pm afternoon radio soap opera.
20- the radio with one volume set at LOAD @ 4 in the morning.
In closing...I will MISS Mahitsitady.
SHOUT OUT!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BROTHER BRYAN
&
CHEERS TO JOANIE AND MIKE PERKINS...THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED THIS WEEKEND!
MISS YOU ALL!
best,
Brendan
1- The priceless look on my host mother's face my first night when I gave her a box of cookies and she discovered that they had been open...I got a little hungry.
2- Awkward communication with family and others in the village I wont list them. (Lost of frustration around gift giving the last few days).
3- The one year old peeing on the floor in the middle of lunch one day, and the awkward silence that followed.
4- Six-year-olds' taking care of two-year-olds'--a long way from the American daycare system.
5- Cutting a tomato and having my host mom tell me I'm really "smart." She must have had really low expectations.
6- The one-year-old playing with a knife and it was OKAY with everyone.
7- Eating whole fired little fish-for some reason a feeling of comfort came over me when I found out they fished them from the rice field...*Side note: all kinds of little edible creatures come from the rice field once rice is harvested...who knew...?
8- the mysterious light bulbs that hang from strings in a few houses, despite no electricity (I think ites a decoration/status thing)
9- Being told I look like a movie star / Prince Harry / David Beckham.
10- Hitting my head on everthing (i.e. doorways).
11- Eating lots of rice--once you accpet it, its not a meal without it.
12- The Sur'Eau bottles that began to line the shelf in the kitchen as weeks past. PC provides it to host families every week to clean cooking water and soak veggies. I was told it was being used.
13- A crazy Easter I'll never forget, known as "Mitsangasanga."
14-Putting Nicole in awkward sistuations during the first five weeks of language class--it took Fanjava a few weeks until she undertood my sense of humor.
15- On our first tech-trip Stan (the Env. PA) turning to me in the car and saying in broken English "yea...this is the enviornment" --he overheard me complaining about the roads.
16- The chicken that got in my room.
17- Cell phones -"Hello, Hello, Hello....*hang up*"
18- The intense Domie Games with the Family and Family friends.
19- The 1 pm afternoon radio soap opera.
20- the radio with one volume set at LOAD @ 4 in the morning.
In closing...I will MISS Mahitsitady.
SHOUT OUT!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BROTHER BRYAN
&
CHEERS TO JOANIE AND MIKE PERKINS...THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED THIS WEEKEND!
MISS YOU ALL!
best,
Brendan
Apr 2, 2008
My Site Visit--A Reality Check
Just a few words regarding my site visit last week.
Last Wednesday all our couterparts (the gatekeepers to our community) were flown from all over Madagascar for a little conference PC style. They met us (PC Trainees), learned about Peace Corps and its policies. After a short (it felt short) meet and greet. I hopped on a plane to Fort Dauphin. A popular tourist site and a future mining location (strip mining for a titanium deposit used to make white dyes). My village is about 60k north of Fort Dauphin in the commune of Saite Luce, made of three small villages (Manafiafy, Ambandrika, and Ampanasantomboka). My house is in Ambandrika. Its a small fishing community, with little farming. All I saw was Cassava (a tuber plant) with the occasional pineapple. They have a great need for the introduction of vegitables(any. Mal-nutrition in rampant, and healthcare is non-existent. I spent my last morning having a cup of coffee, trying not to focus on the little girl in front of me with flies swarming here burnt arm from when she fell on the fire. The mining company built a hospital, but it hasn't seen a doctor since it was contructed a few years ago(?). My NGO built a house and latrine to help attract a doctor. Anyway, enough of this....WELCOME TO THE PEACE CORPS
My site resembles nothing like the small rice community I've been training in. The soil is sand and trees are sparse because of deforestation. My NGO is working on reforstization projects (tree planting etc.).
Good news! My house is rather large and I had an opportunity to walk the 14K to Mahatalaky on Monday to see the weekly market. I was impressed with the variety of food and should have a rather varied diet with the vegtibles I'll be growing thrown into the mix. Also, PC will give me a bike so it should only be an hour ride, rather than a 6 hour walk both ways.
I was really impressed with the communities embrace. I was under the impression that I was requested by my NGO on the community's behalf. But I met with the President of Saite Luce and the Mayor of Mahatalaky--both very supportive. I was paraded around the three villages and introduced at formal meetings (my language is still really weak-so my kobary (speech) will wait till I get installed.
In closing, I have a lot of challenges ahead and I'm still processing the last five days. I'm also a little sick. I'm eager to take advantage of my five weeks of training, so I can "hit the ground running."
Sorry about any spelling/english mistakes-I hope it makes sense, I have no time to edit!
Best,
Last Wednesday all our couterparts (the gatekeepers to our community) were flown from all over Madagascar for a little conference PC style. They met us (PC Trainees), learned about Peace Corps and its policies. After a short (it felt short) meet and greet. I hopped on a plane to Fort Dauphin. A popular tourist site and a future mining location (strip mining for a titanium deposit used to make white dyes). My village is about 60k north of Fort Dauphin in the commune of Saite Luce, made of three small villages (Manafiafy, Ambandrika, and Ampanasantomboka). My house is in Ambandrika. Its a small fishing community, with little farming. All I saw was Cassava (a tuber plant) with the occasional pineapple. They have a great need for the introduction of vegitables(any. Mal-nutrition in rampant, and healthcare is non-existent. I spent my last morning having a cup of coffee, trying not to focus on the little girl in front of me with flies swarming here burnt arm from when she fell on the fire. The mining company built a hospital, but it hasn't seen a doctor since it was contructed a few years ago(?). My NGO built a house and latrine to help attract a doctor. Anyway, enough of this....WELCOME TO THE PEACE CORPS
My site resembles nothing like the small rice community I've been training in. The soil is sand and trees are sparse because of deforestation. My NGO is working on reforstization projects (tree planting etc.).
Good news! My house is rather large and I had an opportunity to walk the 14K to Mahatalaky on Monday to see the weekly market. I was impressed with the variety of food and should have a rather varied diet with the vegtibles I'll be growing thrown into the mix. Also, PC will give me a bike so it should only be an hour ride, rather than a 6 hour walk both ways.
I was really impressed with the communities embrace. I was under the impression that I was requested by my NGO on the community's behalf. But I met with the President of Saite Luce and the Mayor of Mahatalaky--both very supportive. I was paraded around the three villages and introduced at formal meetings (my language is still really weak-so my kobary (speech) will wait till I get installed.
In closing, I have a lot of challenges ahead and I'm still processing the last five days. I'm also a little sick. I'm eager to take advantage of my five weeks of training, so I can "hit the ground running."
Sorry about any spelling/english mistakes-I hope it makes sense, I have no time to edit!
Best,
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