Vacances Be Doings

Wow, it’s been a busy vacances be (“big vacation” – the 3 months break from school) and I’ve hardly been at my site since July. Right after school ended, the volunteers who were going to train the new trainees had a meeting for a few days. After that, I was literally at my site for less than 24 hours before I had to turn around, head back to Morondava and meet Matt for his incoming flight and the onset of our vacation. Since I’ve been so busy, I handed it over to him to give the update on the vacation. Rather, though, I suppose it was more of a trip than a vacation; there were some difficult days hiking through the Tsingy and rough roads in between destinations, but we got our relaxing time in as well. And allow me to reiterate, it was AMAZING!! There are some amazing sites to behold in my neck of the woods in Western Madagascar, and we made it to all the main ones with little trouble and only minor snafoos along the way. Really, not that bad considering all else that could’ve gone wrong. And best of all, I got to share it all with Matt.

After vacation, I went back to my site for two days before having to head out again to head to a friend’s site to do work. I felt, for the first time, probably ever, terribly lonely. I never really felt that way at site, despite not having another PCV anywhere near me. During my time at site up till the vacation, I had my classes, kept myself busy with work (or doing other activities to fill the down time, like reading, riding my bike, cleaning, honing my cooking skills, watching DVDs, etc.). I had my daily routine which almost always included a trip to the market, except for Tuesdays because that was my busy day at the school with classes back to back to back. I was always around people out and about, and even at my home, with another family on the other side of the wall (making me wish, at times, that I could be more alone). I don’t know. Maybe it was being constantly around a person that I love for three weeks, and then he was gone, and I was alone again, not knowing when I’d see him again, back to the “real world.” Or I didn’t have school to keep me busy during the days I was back at site, to distract me and in which to bury myself. Or both.

But during those two days, Matt’s visit was the topic of conversation amongst everyone. “Aiza ny Ramose?” several people asked me (where is the mister?), genuinely confused. I think a lot of people thought he was coming here to live with me, haha, and were surprised when I said he went back to the states (also, again, making me sad that I had to explain over and over that, yes, he was gone, no he’s not coming to live here, he has a job, a life in America). You should get a boyfriend in Madagascar, and you can have your American boyfriend in the states too, a vegetable seller whose stall I frequent told me. No, I said, its not fomba Amerikana (American culture/manners) to have more than one boyfriend or girlfriend. But its fomba Malagasy, and you live in Madagascar, some friends in Morondava told me. Ai. One of the cultural differences I struggle with the most. Cheating, be it on a girlfriend, fiancé, wife, happens often and is acceptable.

So, once again, I left my site and headed out to the east coast to help my awesome friend Vickie (and fellow angry feminist, fellow bad dance music lover) with some of the projects she’s working on. I didn’t get to stay as long as I wanted (more on that in a minute) but in the time I was there, I helped her put together posters for a presentation on income generating activities she plans to present to her women’s groups. It was great getting to see another friend’s site in a different part of the country (the east coast is really green) and see how she works. While all of us are in the same boat in some aspects, everyone still seems to have really different individual experiences here. It was also fun getting to spend time with another volunteer at their site, cook together, frequent hotelys, and hang out at site rather than in Tana (if you haven’t yet gathered, I’m not a huge fan of Antananarivo, Madagascar’s capitol).

So after a week of helping Vickie, I went to our training center to help train the new education volunteers. We led some of their sessions and observed their practicum (practice teaching) and gave feedback, answered questions. There was so much I wished I’d known during training that I didn’t find out till much later at site, wish I had volunteers to tell me how things really worked (which we had during PST in Niger, but not really here). I’ve learned a lot through experience and figuring things out for myself, lots of trial and error, going from practically zero education experience to being responsible for the English education of 300+ students, and I wanted to share some of my experiences with them and offer advice. They’re a good group and they are swearing in soon! I’m excited for them. So I did that for three weeks, then headed back to Vickie’s site for another few days to work on more posters. I really wish I could’ve stayed longer to help her get more stuff done, but, I can’t because... (*drum roll*)

I’m moving. Again. Not countries this time, just sites in Madagascar. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been procrastinating on this entry; it’s taken me so long to write, to admit that it’s happening. Putting it in words makes it real and, as the days approach, it gets more that way. It became official while on vacation (despite my efforts to have the issue solved beforehand so I could fully enjoy my time with Matt) but tried not to think about it and focused on enjoying myself, thinking it was a ways off. At least I had Matt to talk to, to have comfort me, to reassure me, to listen to me vent. But time flies in Peace Corps (next month marks A YEAR that I left the states for Niger!) and it gets more real each day.

Security issue: once again, those words dictate my life, uproot me from my comfortable surroundings of which I’ve come to grow fond (does this sound familiar?), and once again, because of the actions of a few people, I have to move. I’ll leave it at that; there’s a time and a place, and the blog’s not it. Bottom line: I’m fine and nothing bad has happened to me. I know it’s for the best, and I was given the option to get away from a less than desirable situation that could potentially get a lot more serious, and, though I hesitated and tried to prevent it, really, there was nothing else pragmatic I could do but move. Had I put it off longer, there might not have been another site available if the situation worsened and I’d be forced to go back to the U.S.; much less appealing to me than moving sites.

Still, none of this makes it any easier. I’m leaving MY HOME. I loved my site, loved my “rustic” (as Matt hesitatingly deemed it) concrete block of a house, had friends, and was finally feeling settled and seeing improvements in my students. Our PCMO told the trainees during a session that once you don’t want to leave your site, once you spend a lot of time away from site and feel like you just want to get back, you know you’re adjusted and integrated.

That was me. I don’t know when that became me (maybe around IST), but those words resonated with me and filled me with sadness and nostalgia, thinking that soon, I’d be gone from that site; my home. Despite the hardships and the occasional bad days, it was my home, I was “tamana” (happily settled, or liking a place in Gasy), and I loved my site. After hardly spending time at my site the past few months, I’ve found myself wanting home sweet home. And even missing my students; yes, there were the maditra ones, but the really hard working, caring, motivated ones made it worth it, made the job fun, and some of them made me laugh.

And now, I have to do it all over again. Find my way around a new place, make new friends, know where things are at the market, and on what days they are most likely there, and who has what and at what prices and quality and which vendors are most likely to throw in a cadeau with my purchase (yes, I could do this at my site), teach new students at a new school, get a new counterpart, navigate another (much larger) banking town, be the unfamiliar “vazaha,” be gawked at and scrutinized by different people, etc. My new site’s practically half way across the country, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to visit again, but I would love to before I leave, and also make it back to Morondava – my happy place. I’ve cried over it several times already and will probably continue to do so, especially on the day I move out. So many emotions are coursing through me, all at the same time: anger, sadness, anxiety, helplessness, disappointment, confusion, frustration, stress, worry, feeling like I’m letting down my friends, my students, my school, my town. More “what ifs,” the “why mes?” More sadness.

I thought Peace Corps was one county, one village, two years, and now… all of those have turned out not to be true (also, as an ed volunteer, I don’t really live in a village). I knew this would be a difficult undertaking, an emotional rollercoaster in constant motion with extreme ups and downs several times everyday, with huge, unexpected challenges thrown my way, but… that basic component – I thought I’d at least have all those experiences within that one country, one village, two years. Talk about really getting the unexpected. But evacuations and safety issues do happen, and they happened to me; maybe I was naïve to think they wouldn’t, or had too much of a romantic notion of Peace Corps entrenched in my brain. Deep down I know this is what I have to do and I’ve been reassured by other volunteer friends and they’ve helped me tremendously as I’ve tried to sort out all that’s happened and lamented on and on. The move happens in a little over a week; I had to leave Vickie’s earlier than I wanted to in order to pack up my stuff and, once the new volunteers get installed near me, the Peace Corps vehicle is coming to pick up me and my stuff and take me to the new site. *Sigh*

So yeah. I’m just trying to go with it and take things a little at a time; obviously easier said than written. I’m still trying to believe that all things happen for a reason; again, I’m not sure. A huge test in patience so far is what I’m gathering, but I hope there’s more than that. I’ve heard good things about my soon to be new site, and I’m sure I’ll come to love it as I did my first site and Niger, but still… it’s hard to move. Again.

Alright, my computer is being slow, its getting late, and I need to be up at 3 a.m. to get to the airport to wait for a plane that will probably be late.

Till next time, from the new site…

Vacation - from an outsider's perspective

Ok, so for an entry on the vacation, I decided to turn it over to Matt and have him talk about it, so you can get the perspective of a visitor to Madagascar. It was interesting to see how I've changed the past few months through having him here and seeing how he responded to things that don't even faze me anymore; things that i dont even think about anymore because they are so routine, like latrines, bad roads, spending hours driving distances that would take a fraction of the time in the U.S., rice for breakfast, bucket baths, raw, uncovered meat on display at the market... I have changed and it was absolutely wonderful to share part of this experience that will affect the rest of my life with him. So, more from me another time. Here's what he had to say:


I would like to start with a bit of an introduction; my name is Matt Klinkner and I hail from Kalamazoo, Michigan. I’m extremely fortunate to be Karista’s boyfriend, and it has been quite an adventure so far.
This trip was one of many firsts for me. For starters the only time I have ever flown was in a small two-passenger airplane over corn fields in the Upper Peninsula. Going 10,000 plus miles half way around the world? Why not. Go big or stay home I guess. That being said I have never been out of the country either; I’ve been to Canada a couple times, but in my book that doesn’t count as it’s practically the 51st state. Then there were things such as bucket baths and chamber pots, but I’ll touch on those later.
Chicago->London->Johannesburg->Antananarivo->Morondava
I had visions of all sorts of things that could (and probably would) go wrong, but the trips there and back were remarkably painless. When my plane touched down in Morondava, my heart was pounding with excitement when I saw Karista waiting for me when I got off the plane. It had been quite some time since I had seen her and it was wonderful to see her looking healthy and happy.
From there it was off to Chez Maggie, which is run by an American named Gary, and if you are ever in Morondava, I recommend a stay there. The food is exceptional, the sunsets are breathtaking, and the people friendly. After another day here, we boarded a taxi brousse, or bush taxi, bound for Karista’s site. Ok, this whole brousse ride is something that will not be forgotten. Close to forty people (I’m not even exaggerating) in a rickety van over one of the most derelict roads I had ever seen(up to that point)
We arrive in Mahabo, where Karista shows me off to some of her friends and some of her favorite spots. While there, I experienced many new things that would soon become routine: 1) Bucket baths – not too bad once you figure it out. 2) Chamber pots – if it were up to me I would have just gone on a bush. 3) This is one of my faves – somewhere along the way Karista learned how to cook! This enchanting young woman who would routinely burn water (love you sweetie!) was now making awesome pasta, savory lentil ragout, kick-ass veggie burritos, and one of my new faves, a fried banana donut type thing called mofo kida. 4) She has a thing for scolding small children that point and shout “Vazaha!” at us, which means foreigner or white person.
We were picked up by our guide Philemon to head to Miandrivazo. The road there was exceptional. The town was quite city like, and we went for a ride on a posy-posy (tee-hee) which is a rickshaw. We had lots more really good food at our hotel. Then off to start our trip down the Tsiribihina River. We saw lots of birds, a large chameleon, baby crocs, and some brown lemurs. We camped on a sandbar under what seemed like a billion stars, and also saw a few shooting stars. It was sooo wonderful and romantic to be there with Karista. I felt a million miles away from everything else, but so very close to her.☺ More beautiful scenery the following day through the Tsiribihina Gorge and a breathtaking waterfall along with a group of sifaka lemurs. The next day we saw a crazy big swarm of grasshoppers, along with some bats. Upon the finish of our canoe trip, we boarded a Zebu cart for a ride to the 4x4 that would take us to Belo-sur-Tsiribihina. For those of you who don’t know, a Zebu is an extremely delicious beast of burden very much like cattle found anywhere else. We spent the night in Belo-sur-Tsiribihina, then a bone jarring 4 ½ hour ride that made the brousse to Mahabo seem like a kiddie ride. We arrived at Tsingy-Bemaraha National Park, for what would be one of my favorite parts of the trip.
We spent the next three days exploring the peaks and caves of the Tsingy. The sights were amazing, and getting to experience them with Karista made it that much better. Philemon was still with us, and that guy is something else. He had facts and information about nearly everything we saw. In between trips to the Tsingy, we dined at several of the local hotels, and took advantage of the pool at one of them.
From the Tsingy we went on to Kirindy forest. There we went on a night hike and saw a couple varieties of nocturnal lemurs. The next day we were able to see some brown lemurs very close as they drank from a pond, as well as some sifakas. Back at camp, we saw a Fosa, which looks like a giant house cat and is the largest predator on the island. From there we went on to the Avenue de Baobabs and the Baobabs in Love – two intertwined baobabs that looked like they were embracing, and another spectacular sunset down the way. We went back to Chez Maggie for the evening, to rest up for our trip to Belo sur Mer the following day.
The adventure to Belo sur Mer started with a very wet ride down the coast under sunny skies. The town itself was nice, right on the water, with several small hotels here and there. Large boats in various stages of construction lined the shore, as well as the sea-going canoes seen up and down the coast. Our bungalow was right on the water, with the breeze blowing in and magnificent views of the sunsets. The food, much like everywhere else we had been, was excellent. We swam in the ocean and collected shells. One day we took a 2 ½ hour approx. 20k sailing canoe ride out to a small island dotted with fisherman. Blue water, bluer skies, sandy beaches, snorkeling, and the company of the most beautiful girl. Amazing. On the way back we saw several whales as they surfaced to breathe.
On the way back, we knew what to expect and did not get quite as soaked. It was low tide when we returned, and we had to slog knee deep through some of the thickest, nastiest mud I’ve ever encountered. That was quickly forgotten after showers and more excellent food back at Chez Maggie. The following day was my last full one, with lots of shopping for gifts for people back home. And another signature sunset.
Morondava->Antananarivo->Johannesburg->Frankfurt->Chicago->K-Zoo
This had been one of the most wonderful and memorable experiences of my life. I credit much of that to who I spent all my time with ☺ I cannot wait to hopefully go back around the same time next year, and would recommend the trip to anyone looking for something a bit out of the ordinary.