That Was One Gasy Year

One year ago, after hugging the family and giving the ol’ dogs one last pat, I boarded a plane that was Peace Corps bound. I knew I was getting myself into something big, but little did I know as I sat on the flight to Philadelphia worrying about the possibility of finding myself immersed in a hippy fest, that the least of my concerns a year from October 2005 would be too many hippies. What I wouldn’t have given on some of the loneliest days to spend a little time with even the headiest of headsters. In the course of a year, I have had some incredible experiences and I have learned a lot about myself. Of these experiences and introspective times, several stand out.

Of all the things to be worried about going into the Peace Corps, my biggest focus as I took the airport shuttle through downtown Philadelphia on my way to the Sheraton Hotel, was the prospective company I would be in for the next three months. Immediately upon entering the hotel the first person I encountered was an attractive girl with short blonde hair wearing a jean skirt with a black top and white shirt. We both gave each other an appraising up and down and went on our respective ways. The thought then crossed my mind that this impending Peace Corps experience was going to be just fine, especially if I was in the company of such good looking girls. Abby, that attractive girl from Iowa, and I have been dating for a year now. We still find the separation to be difficult; however we have become good at making the best of things and looking forward to the future phone calls and times together. Sometimes one has to go to an island off the east coast of Africa to find the right the person.

As soon as we arrived in Madagascar, every person from my group was delivered to the home of a Malagasy family. We hadn’t been in Madagascar for more than five hours, and of course, no one spoke a lick of Gasy. I recall sitting in the Rajaonarison’s home the first night eating dinner by candle light and being in a jet lag induced state of stupefied bewilderment. One week prior I had been eating dinner with my American family with numerous electric lights shining, speaking English and knowing what I was putting in my mouth. Move one week forward and I couldn’t have been farther out of my comfort zone. Ahhh but it felt good, it felt damn good. Life in a Malagasy home as it turned out was not so dissimilar from that in an American home, with the notable exception of many of the amenities of daily life that are readily taken for granted. I bathed every morning after waking up, yet I used a cup and bucket to wash instead of a shower head. Food was served at the usual time, however prep time had started hours before and temperature regulated ovens and microwaves were replaced with an open fire in a hearth. Nothing was served that everyone didn’t readily eat. People in Madagascar don’t have the luxury to be picky. Trying to explain the concept of obesity being a dangerous American problem was unfathomable to my new family. I immediately fell into the rhythm of my new life and greatly appreciated the simplicity. I still stay in touch with my host family in Alarobia, and will be forever grateful for the kindness, warmth and generosity they showed me in my two and a half month stay in their home.

In December 2005, I moved to Port Berge and quickly learned that if I didn’t learn to speak Malagasy then life would be exceedingly difficult. The first three months were tough, but proved to be enlightening about myself. I learned a lot about what I can do, despite the fact that I never want to deal with some of those things ever again. I can live with mail as my only form of outside communication. I can spend Christmas by myself in a hotel, in a town with all communication methods cut for the day. I can go for months at a time without talking to my girlfriend. I can go days on end without talking to anyone but myself. I can shrug off disappointment after disappointment and still maintain an optimistic outlook. I can wait for hours on end. I can sit on taxi brousse for 20 hours. I can get teary watching Vince Young make great plays in the 2005 Rose Bowl even though I could care less about the Texas Longhorns. I can drink a lot of Punch Coco. I can feel completely useless or much needed in the span of 20 minutes. I can have diarrhea for weeks on end and not think anything of it. I can live in a Malagasy town, with Malagasy friends, and I can find work that I enjoy, that I am good at and that benefits other people.

From day one in Port Berge, I have worked mornings at the hospital weighing babies and giving little health talks. My work at the hospital has evolved since December 2005, and I’m sure by December 2007 it will be different than it is presently. In the beginning I was slow to understand what was said to me and was not proficient at filling out the paperwork. As I grew comfortable with the basics of my work I began to get up in front of a group of mothers and give health talks. That was a good way to start, however there was much room for refinement. I started to observe that only a few women would pay attention to me when I would get up and talk. Women with squirming zazas wanted to get the baby weighed and vaccinated and get home as quickly as possible to start cooking rice. So, I decided that I might make more of an impact if I talked to the women individually about their child and its growth and health. The group setting has its pros, but one of the major negatives is that women are often unwilling to ask questions in front of a lot of other women. The one on one setting is more comfortable setting for question asking. Women with healthy babies obviously know what they’re doing and don’t need much counseling other than reminders about future vaccination dates. Some women have babies who are healthy but their growing curve is starting to straighten out and a few little pointers can keep the baby growing healthy and strong. Then there are some women who come in with dirty, malnourished and generally unhealthy babies. With these women we try to make it clear that three easy things can be done to have a healthy, happy baby. First, breastfeed frequently, second, feed cheap wholesome weaning food at 6 months, and finally, wash the child regularly with soap and water to prevent rashes and infections. Sounds basic, but when life is a daily struggle to live and put rice in bowl, sometimes the health of a new baby takes a backseat to other pressing concerns. Our job is to show that it doesn’t take too much effort or expenditure to have healthy children and if that effort and expenditure is too much, then there ways to prevent future pregnancies. It is common in Port Berge for babies to grow well in their first six months and then start to gradually fall off. This is due to the fact that many mothers are not knowledgeable about when and how to wean a baby, or there is a new baby to take care of at the expense of the older baby. I have started talking individually with women about starting to wean their babies at 6 months and I write a feeding plan in the baby’s carnier (medical book). I don’t give too many group talks at the hospital anymore; however I do go out to different fokontanies (neighborhoods) every weekend to deliver group health talks. I have already finished two tours of the ten fokontanies in which I have talked about the Vaccination Program and STD’s. I am currently at the beginning of my third tour and I am talking about the dangers, symptoms and preventions of Diarrheal Disease (something I have some first hand experience with). These presentations have also needed a lot of refining as I go. I have found that it is best to deliver health talks in as light an atmosphere as possible with as much humor as can be applied to topics such as diarrhea. Each fokontany provides a different audience, ranging from very interested and receptive to indignant and raucous. I don’t care what kind of reception I get as long as a few people come away with some new helpful information or a dialogue is started between families or community members.

The other big thing going on in Port Berge is a community initiated project to build four new wells. My role is this project is to ask for a grant in order to build solid, long lasting wells, help coordinate the construction plan, and provide water sanitation education. Two of the wells will be built at schools and the two others will be in an accessible place for the use by two different communities. Port Berge needs more access to clean water. Today, as I write this (October 24) we have had our first substantial rain since the beginning of March. That’s close to eight months without rainfall. It’s hot and dry here and the water company who regulates the town pumps has been rationing out the water. A line of multicolored buckets snakes its way down the street from the pump, marking people’s place in line when the water is turned on. The four new wells should greatly help several of fokontanies within Port Berge get the water that they desperately need. I have finished the proposal and have sent it on to Tana, and from there it will be sent on to Washington. I am going through the Peace Corps Partnership, which allows friends and family to donate money to the project. The cost to build four wells will be about $3,880, or less than $1,000 to build one well. If you are reading this and think that you or someone you know might want to contribute to this worthwhile endeavor I would love to get an email from you saying so. No amount is too small, as even $10 can buy the pulley for one well. I will be sending out a formal email request to everyone on my email list; however I would love a heads up from anyone who has interest in helping the students and people of Port Berge.

I am always exhausted at the end of every day no matter how busy or sedentary I have been during the day. Mental and physical exhaustion seems to accumulate over the time I am at site and so often a vacation to an exotic Malagasy locale is just what the doktera ordered. I have been to some amazing places here in Madagascar and have had some unforgettable experiences. I saw some lemurs in Andasibe, relaxed on paradise personified, Illes Aux Nattes, an island of an island of an island accessible only by pirogue, took pictures of a huge, recently captured crocodile, ate and drank everything coconut in Mahajanga, nearly fainted watching a young woman give birth in Abby’s village, ate too much amazing pizza at Pizza Inn in Antsirabe, sang 80’s classics way too many times at the karaoke bar, The Green Room, in Antananarivo, gotten worms from eating roadside sausage, and lounged pool side with a THB in Nosy Be. To name a few. A good vacation provides the much needed motivation and energy to jump back into the Malagasy life in Port Berge.

I have grown accustomed to routine and pace of life here in Port Berge. It took one full year, but I can say that I feel well settled in Madagascar. Of course, I miss my family, friends, and life in the U.S. and look forward to returning; however I am content with where I am and what I’m doing. I owe a debt of gratitude to everyone that has made the often difficult, expensive and inconvenient effort to stay in touch with me. I have enjoyed writing these blog posts and will continue to do so as long as I know that they are being read. I would appreciate any input or comments on topics to cover or ways to improve the posts. We’re turning the corner and have one more year to go. I am looking forward to hearing from you all and then seeing you all in 2007. Also, please let me know if you have interest in more information regarding the well building projects here in Port Berge.