Hot Holiday Action

Well, look what I got here, it's a modern means of communiction--a computer! It feels like an eternity since ol Kenny tickled the keys of a french computer keyboard. Just when I'm getting QWERTY down, they go and rearrange all the keys on me. Oh well, it's not like I ever really got out of point and click mode anyway. I hope everyone is feelin alright and that the holidays have left you with some semblance of brain power. As always it's been great to read the anecdotes and happenings in the many emails you have all sent. Thanks, I think you know that it means alot--especially when you're dreaming of a white Christmas in Madagascar.

A couple of things regarding correspondence. I don't want to do this, but unfortunately, I must. I need to rescind my guarantee to respond to all emails. It's just not practical with the price, my miniscule salary and the slowness of the internet connection. I really only have time to read what you all send and then write a blog post and group email. So, how can you get a personalized response from your friend in Port Berge? Well, you can write him a letter. I know that hand written correspondence is not a very appealing option and that the last person to frequently write letters fought in the Civil War. But let me tell ya, it's not that bad and once you write me and get a response you will be hooked. Trust me, it will be the best fix you can get your hands on. Then this leads me to say that because of the rainy season, which the Port is now experiencing, I have not received mail for the past 2 weeks. Please don't let this dissuade you from writing -- as eventually I will get it and eventually you will get my response. It is striking that something considered as fundamental as "snail mail" in U.S. can be shut down here because roads are out due to inclement weather. OK, so write letters and I will respond; write emails and I will most definitely read and enjoy them, I just probably won't respond to them personally.

I have as of Tuesday, January 3 I have been a PC volunteer for one month and as of Sunday, January 8 I will have been living in PB for one month. This statement might tell you a little something of how I spend a lot of my time. I look at the calendar. Nobody likes that kid on a trip who's counting days (thanks heekin), and I have really had to fight with myself to not be that kid. It's easy when you are adjusting to a new community and unable to fully communicate (besides the basics of everyday living) to dwell on the negatives. There's no mail, I'm covered in bugbites, I've been swampy for a month straight, no one speaks English, I only eat the same food, etc. It's hard not to think about these things, but it's absolutely essential when the mind drifts to such negativity, to reign it in and look at the overwhelming positives. I live in a nice house with many unexpected amenities, I've got a great group of friends who have welcomed me with very gracious hospitality, the town I live in offers many possible work avenues, I've got people in my life who are interested in what I'm doing and like, if not, love me. The mental battle between the positive and the negative will be ongoing, however with time, the negative will take a permanent backseat to the positive.

So, how were the holidays? Well, I had a Christmas and New Years that shall not be forgotten. I think that it's the difference from what usually happens that makes them so memorable. I made a rather large effort to get to my banking town of Antsohihy on Christmas Day. I must say that I'm not a huge fan of Antsohihy. This dusty, hot truckstop may be the Madagascar equivalent of Terre Haute, Indiana. I came to Antsohihy on Christmas for the purpose of using the telephone to talk to loved ones. Of course, as fate would have it, the phone lines were down which meant that every means of modern communication was disabled. I felt very stuck and lonely with interesting versions of Jingle Bells blaring at me from all directions. Losing it seemed like a plausible option. Being stuck in this town with no way to communicate with people who were expecting to hear from me was really tough. After about 15 minutes of cursing and woe-is-me whining, I got it together with the realization that there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation, a situation I had willingly put myself in by signing up to do development work in Africa. On my way back to the hotel where I was staying, I caught a glimpse of a female vazaha (white person) riding a bike loaded with gear down the main street. Weird, I thought and kept on my way. When I got to the hotel I encountered the young woman again. I observed that she spoke French and I expected only an exchange of "bonjour." As I was starting in on dinner she dropped a "Bon Appetit" which I returned when her meal came. I asked her in Malagasy if she spoke Gasy and she looked at me funny, then answered me in English. Turned out, she is Swiss, lives in Zurich, speaks great English, and had been biking solo all over Madagascar, rather gutsy in my opinion. We had an interesting Christmas dinner and discussion of what we were both doing in Madagascar and commiserating about the "just one of those days" that we had both experienced recently. Mine paled in comparison when she described her previous day of biking 120 km in the scorching afternoon heat with a raging fever. So, my Christmas ended with me having a conversation in English with someone, which was nice. I went to bed happy and I left the next day to go back to the Port.

Then there was New Year's Eve. I have always found NY to be the equivalent of a high school dance. Very high expectations are held and much thought goes into where the party will be held. The night then happens, it's kind of fun, but then in hindsight you realize it was like any other weekend night only you spent way too much effort on the festivities. The high expectations are never fully realized. So, on NY Eve 2005 I had no expectations, except for maybe casually drinking a couple of beers and reading some Charles Dickens, a real crazy night! My next door neighbor then came by and invited me to celebrate with her and her husband and some friends. Thus, I spent the evening drinking a little of the local brew, Three Horses Beer, eating mutton kabobs with fried plantains, and dancing. The dancing was done to Malagasy music videos, as well as old videos of MTV's the Grind. These MTV DVD's were labeled as the hottest, newest songs of 2004 and they were easily off by 10 years. We're talking bowl-cuts, jean shorts, and Shaquille O'Neal Orlando Magic Jerseys. After an evening of Gasy music, C and C Music Factory and Ace of Base, I was begging for anything newer. I couldn't have been happier and more willing to sing along than when some Celine Dion and Backstreet Boys made an appearance. I did quite a bit of dancing which proved to be quite funny to my Gasy friends. Those of you who know how I do it can surely imagine my shakin' it to some classic early 90's dance tracks. Let me tell ya, I'm doing America proud over here. Maybe the US government should find some budget room for some US dance ambassadors. I think some diplomatic dancing could be what we need to solve this Iraq mess. Nonetheless, a very interesting and memorable New Year.

So, I'm back to my daily life of working in the local clinic where--for now--I weigh babies, give vitamin A drops and record various statistics about their growth. I have discovered that I must get out early to the market in order to buy the best variety of food. The mangoes here are fantastic. Life has its highs and lows and that's just part of the gig. I have loved reading your emails and look forward to getting your letters--always a high! That's enough for now, take care of yourselves and I look forward to hearing from you.

Cheers,
Logan

These are my own opinions and not those of Peace Corps Madagascar