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…