Winter is rapidly approaching the highlands of
Madagascar.
As the temperature drops,
the farmers finish up the rice harvest, and start preparing to sell a large
bulk of their rice.
The harvest is a
celebration in itself.
Rice is life
here in Madland, and after working hard to prepare, transplant, and weed the
fields, the culmination of the harvest is now behind us.
I am proud to say that my SRI fields did
very well, and I have been approached by many farmers interested in forming a
fikambanana (community group) dedicated to using the technique next season. The
days have gotten shorter, the rain has stopped, and the celebrations
begin.
June 13-16th we
celebrated Environment Day by hosting a 3 day fety (party) in Morarano focused
on raising awareness and appreciation for the natural environment here in
Madagascar. Guests from Namoly valley,
where the east entrance of Andringitra park lies, hiked over to celebrate the
event, as well as park affiliates from a neighboring city. Morarano is a very small village, and this
event was a source of pride in the community.
In preparation of the event the community members and myself spruced up
the village, picked up trash, and prepared skits/songs/activities all in
celebration of the environment. Musical
acts from the area performed, and a race was held, which I participated in, and
was easily defeated by a number of 15yr old Malagasy girls. Naturally, a cow was slaughtered for the
community to share, and everyone donated their share of rice. I am also proud to say that the soccer team
here in Morarano defeated that of the team from Namoly; and in a shootout
nonetheless.
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Morarano is in green! |
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Not a bad spot for a soccer game... |
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Nothing like slaughtering a cow in the dark... |
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A local musical act performing some popular Betsileo tunes |
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Some important people doing what the Malagasy do best....give very long speeches. |
The next celebration is that of Independence Day
(independence from France in 1960, to learn more about the history of that
period, go to:
http://en.wikipedia.or/wiki/History_of_Madagascar#The_independent_Malagasy_Republic) here in Madagascar, which is on June 26, but essentially lasts
for an entire week. The tradition in my
valley is to slaughter pigs, have a feast of rice and pork, and to light small
bonfires all over the valley while chanting traditional Betsileo songs. Dancing is also always involved. The
Malagasy are (I’m pretty sure) genetically awesome dancers, and I especially
like the Betsileo style. Last year, it
was quite a site to see small fires lit all over the valley. I mean, there are no wildland fire crews here
in Madland…but none of them were out of control, and it is pretty much the
equivalent of the US tradition of lighting fireworks.
After living in Morarano for 13months, I have developed some
close friendships, and the thought of leaving these people is already causing
me to feel a little choked up. I would
like to spend a minute telling you about my best friend in my village, Mino
(literally ‘to believe’).
She is 32, has
5 kids, and has the same birthday as me.
She is my confidant. I go to her
with problems, good news, when I’m bored, when I want someone to share a beer
with, and when I just want someone to sit around with on the dusty ‘road’
through my village killing time, playing with the village kids, staring at the
amazing mountains that shelter my valley.
She has it rough. Five kids
present many mouths to feed, and the majority of her income comes from rice
farming, and with a small store she opens a few months out of the year
(starting now, when she has enough money from selling her rice to actually open
the store, which sells beer, soda (warm..), candy, crackers, sugar, and
beans.) In the rougher months, I’ve
walked into her house and seen her feed her kids plain rice, with no side
dish. On these instances she always
looks a little guilty. She knows this
is not enough; but going through the effort of finding something else to cook
was maybe too much for her that day.
Sometimes I give her family food.
Sometimes I present with her a suggestion on where she can find more
food. After living in the village for a
year, I get it. During the hunger
season all that is really left to eat is rice, and maybe some dried beans or
corn. Most people don’t garden in my
area during this time because the water sources are far away, so watering is an
issue. People are low on money, so they
are less inclined to walk the 18miles round trip to the market to buy some
veggies. I get it. It’s hard enough fetching water to drink and
cook, let alone water an entire garden.
Maybe I shouldn’t give her food.
I know many other families often don’t have enough food during the
‘hunger season’; but I can’t help but play favorites. I am human, after all.
And, I LOVE her kids. While 5 kids are a lot to care for, they also help
out immensely. Most of them are old
enough that they do almost all of the work their parents do, and go to school
on top of it all. They cook, collect
firewood, harvest (rice, beans, etc.), clean, man the store when Mino is busy
in the fields. They are adorable,
resourceful, intelligent, and resilient beyond belief. They can be a little wild at times, pestering me non-stop to play
with them when I’m trying to write a lesson plan for my English course. But, to be honest, I have never heard a
Malagasy child complain the way I’ve heard American children complain. Face it folks; we spoil them rotten, whether
we think we do or not. I could easily have been Mino. I am one year younger than her, yet I do not have 5 children
ranging from 6-12. Our upbringings were
so incredibly different, yet here we are, farming rice together, braiding
eachother’s hair, scolding her kids together.
I have met so many amazing people here.
The Malagasy people as a whole are the most welcoming people I have ever
met in my life. Sure, there are plenty
of things that drive me crazy about this culture (yes, I eat rice, and no, it does not hurt my stomach...I have lived here for a YEAR), but I have never, for a
second, felt unwelcome in this country.
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Mino braiding the hair of her oldest daughter, Olivia |
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The little cutie, Leony. |
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Three of Mino's sons checking my feet for parasy (the little bugs that like to burrow into the flesh of unsuspecting humans..). |
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Yeah, she's pretty gangsta. |
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Rolan, Mino's husband, in the hat. |
As some of you may know, I am working on a project to build
a bridge in my community. There is a
large river which runs through the Sahanambo Valley, and separates many
villages from schools, ricefields, the local health clinic, the market, the one
dirt road that connects my valley to the outside world, etc. During the rainy season the river rises
significantly, and is often impassable for anyone trying to reach the other
side of the valley. I have already set
up another blog dedicated specifically to raising funds for this project, so
please check it out at
www.buildingbridgesinmadagascar.blogspot.com. The project is going to cost around $8,000, no small chunk of change (around 16 million Ariary!) Spread the word!!
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