Thoughts on Christmas

Note: I struggled with whether or not to write about this, but in the spirit of wanting to be as open and honest as possible about what my life is like here-- describing both hardships and triumphs-- I decided to go ahead and share this with you. Please do not interpret anything written as a personal attack or judgment on anyone.

Can it still be Christmas when it's 90 degrees out and you're sitting next to a palm tree instead of a pine tree? That's a question I had to ask myself as I prepared for my first Christmas away from family. I'd already experienced Christmas abroad before (Buenos Aires in 2010), but that was a trip with my family, so this year was still going to be an entirely new experience.

Because I was worried about being lonely if I stayed in Vangaindrano for Christmas, I decided to take a vacation and head north to Diego Suarez, a beautiful beach town on the very northern tip of the island. About 17 other volunteers also came up to Diego, and it was an epic 3-day journey to get here, including a day-long brousse in which they had decided to squish 5 people into each row, but all the travel difficulty was worth it as we spent a magical Christmas Eve boating in the Mer d'Emeraude and snorkeling in the cerulean waters, and a luxurious Christmas Day splashing around a fancy hotel pool, splurging on a decadent lunch, and drinking vacation-worthy tropical drinks. I was pleasantly surprised to find that as much I wished I could be with my family back in Vermont, eating our traditional Christmas brunch of french toast, bacon and mimosas, I wasn't actually very homesick. Spending the holiday with my Peace Corps family was exactly what I wanted and needed, and even though we're all many thousands of miles away from home, we became each others' family. After our day at the pool we all went back to our hotels to shower and put on nice clothes, then went out to a local bar where we danced to a fantastic band was playing a set of both American pop songs and Malagasy music. The highlight of the night was when we all got up to sing along and cheer as one of my fellow Peace Corps volunteers belted out an amazing rendition of Adele's "Someone Like You". That moment cemented for me the epiphany I'd had earlier that day: that Christmas and Hanukkah are not about the gifts you give or receive; rather, they are about the people you spend them with. There is no way I could have been happier than I was that night, jubilantly dancing with my friends in a random bar on the tip of a tropical island. And even prior to Peace Corps, every passing holiday season that saw me another year older also saw me less and less interested in gifts being a part of the Christmas experience. I found myself thrilled to just be able to spend a day with my family eating good food, going for snowy hikes up a local mountain, and just being able to enjoy relaxing together. If anything, my feeling of contentment and happiness during this year's gift-less holiday was simply a natural progression of how my enjoyment of the holiday season has evolved. So after that wonderful moment of dancing and singing, when some people went back to the bar for another round, I decided to end the day on a high note and headed back to our hotel in a touk-touk (a motorized rickshaw cab).

But as happy as I was all Christmas day and night, I couldn't ignore a feeling of something bothering me deep down inside. It wasn't until I got back to an empty hotel room and began to process it that I fully understood what it was. One part of it is that Diego is one of cities here with the highest prevalence of sex tourism, and it's hard not to feel disgusted when you see lecherous old French men sitting with underage Malagasy prostitutes at the next table over. (Because really, is there anything sadder than being alone on Christmas and feeling the need to pay someone for companionship?) But it was something more than that that really got to me. While I was at the pool and the bar, I was using my phone to check Facebook and post holiday updates and greetings. Doing so allowed me to see many, many photos of people's Christmas trees overflowing with brightly wrapped gifts, and pictures of their children gleefully tearing open new toys, dolls, video games, iPads, and other symbols of a privileged Western existence. I was overwhelmed by the contrast to life here; floored by the sudden appearance of so much excess, so much unnecessary spending and consumerism. And, I was horrified to think of myself as a child who had been a part of this system, begging my parents for gifts that they very often indulged me in. And then I thought of the reverse side of the coin, how childhood is in Madagascar and other places with poverty so extreme that it's unfathomable. I thought of the kids in my neighborhood, who I can now affectionately call "my" kids because they stop by my house every day to play, and because they call out "Ay-mee-leeeeeee!" as I go to fetch water. I thought about sweet little Marinah, my new tag-along 8-year-old best friend, who delights in following me around and loves to use my colored pencils to draw pictures on scrap paper-- a common activity for American children, but an exciting luxury for kids here. I thought about little Liba with his bright smile, who loves to come over and flip through the picture books I have in my house for the kids; he can't read, but he happily looks at the pictures over and over, describing what he sees. I am fairly certain this is his first time ever seeing a book. And I thought about the countless other children who live near me, who maybe own one or two sets of threadbare clothes, and perhaps not even a pair of plastic flip-flops, but smile and play and run around joyfully just like kids are supposed to, even though they're probably always a little hungry and spend every night sleeping on a threadbare mattress that they share with the rest of their family. I can't give these kids money, but I give them fruit when I have it, a banana or mango here and there, and maybe some peanuts to try and make up for the some of the protein their diet is missing every day. They are ever grateful and gracious at any act of generosity. No parent ever has to remind these children to say thank you.

And so when I thought of "my" kids back in Vangaindrano, along with the majority of all the children in Madagascar, who want for so many basic things yet ask for so little, and then thought of the pictures I saw of waste, excess, consumerism, overconsumption-- all brought about in the name of a holiday that is supposed to celebrate peace and goodwill towards others, I broke down into uncontrollable sobs. I called my mom, tears streaming down my face as I tried to explain why I was so upset. No, I wasn't homesick, I said; this was something far different. Such a complex mix of feelings brews a storm of emotion that is hard to dissect and explain. I felt angry, guilty, helpless, heartbroken. For some reason little Liba stuck out in my mind, as I sobbed to my mother, he doesn't even own any shoes! Almost all of them are malnourished and can't afford to go to school-- how can I look at these pictures of wasted money spent on ridiculous things and not feel angry? But I can't solve the problem-- it's a broken system. Me buying things for the kids in my community won't fundamentally change anything, just as Americans not buying Christmas gifts for their kids won't change anything either. And who can fault them for wanting to shower their children with love and affection in the form of things that make them happy? Who doesn't respond to the glee in a child's face when they open up a gift? I am a generous person by nature and absolutely love to give gifts, although mostly of the homemade variety. So how can I change anything? All I know is that this Christmas, something changed in me, and I will never be able to look at the holiday the same way again. On a larger scale, I also hope this helps me become less of a materialistic person when I return to the US. And when I have kids, I hope to do something different with Christmas and Hanukkah, something that isn't centered around buying things. An idea came into my head yesterday as I was hiking through the beautiful natural rock formations of Tsingy Rouge, a park near Diego Suarez: I thought about how wonderful it would be to use the holiday season to travel every year and explore another corner of the world. There is so much beauty to be seen in the world, and if I am fortunate enough to have the money to explore it with people whom I love, I can think of no better way to honor the spirit of the holiday season.

I hope all of you back home have a joyous new year and are able to drink a toast to a happy and healthy 2013 with your friends and family. Love to you all, and Bon Année from Madagascar.

The Definitive Peace Corps Madagascar Packing List

Update 8/30/13: this post has become, by and large, my most popular one ever! I was amazed to look recently and see that it, alone, has garnered over 2000 pageviews. So thank you to everyone who has expressed their gratitude for the information I've given here, and I'm very glad that it has proved helpful for so many people. Recently I was contacted by a girl who'll be coming to Madagascar in the February 2014 stage, and she was wondering if I had any amendments or changes since it'd been over 8 months since I originally wrote this. So I've made a few small updates below to reflect things. The overall message stays the same, but there are a few items whose priority I wanted to emphasize (or de-emphasize.) Also, I've recently helped our country director with a project to update the 'Welcome Book' that goes to all invitees, and so one of my first tasks was to update the packing list contained therein. Although that packing list will definitely be more updated than previous iterations, it is still more generic and objective; my packing list below remains more subjective to my personal experience.

This one goes out to all the future Peace Corps Madagascar volunteers who are busily preparing for their arrival in country! I remember being in your shoes and it’s crazy to think that here I am, almost one year later, and able to give you advice. Packing is certainly one of the most stressful aspects of preparing for service, because you think, “how the hell am I going to fit 2 years’ worth of stuff in 2 bags?” And the Peace Corps country handbook is certainly of no use. So I thought it’d be helpful to put together a massive blog post listing my suggestions of what to bring, and why. This will hopefully take care of a lot of your potential questions up front, but please feel free to message me or comment if you have a specific question, or if you don’t see something on this list and wonder if you should take it. (Caveat: because I am a girl, this is aimed at girls more than guys, but most of these suggestions also apply to men… except, you know, the parts about bringing skirts, bras, and tampons.)

The first thing to keep in mind is that as much as you’re freaking out about packing and having the exact right “things” to take with you (because trust me, I’ve been there—you’re talking to a reforming maximalist here), no amount of stuff will ever make it easy, and no one item will make the difference between having a great experience and a terrible one. The second thing is to keep in mind that even though 2 bags doesn’t sound like a lot, you will still have way more stuff than any of your Malagasy neighbors do. Having, say, 3 pairs of shoes to carry you for the next 2 years might not sound like a lot, but remember that most people you’ll be living amongst are lucky if they have one pair of shoes. It is very humbling.

With that said, I remember being in your exact position and feeling all-consumed by the packing project—don’t worry, it happened to all of us, and you’ll laugh about it when you’re at site and wearing the same thing 3 days in a row. It also didn’t help that I’d gotten my invitation a full 6 months before our departure, so I had way too much time to think about it! I spent a lot of time poring over other PCV blogs and obsessing over what everyone else brought/was bringing. So naturally, I overbought, and overpacked, and was frantically repacking and weighing my bags right up until I left for the airport. I don’t recommend this. I hope that my suggestions and advice below will help you avoid packing stress as much as possible but also help you arrive here in Madagascar well-equipped and excited to serve! NB: don't feel like it is essential to bring absolutely everything on this list, but this does give a pretty thorough review of things that are helpful and useful to have.

LUGGAGE

As you know by now, you are allowed to bring 2 checked bags as well as 2 small carry-on bags. Most people go with a large hiking backpack plus a large rolling duffel bag, and this is what I would recommend. However, if you don’t have a duffel bag but have a suitcase you want to bring, I’d just say to bring that. Don’t waste your money on something that you won’t use much once you get to Mada. However, definitely bring a large hiking backpack; this will come in handy when you’re traveling around the country. In general, focus your investment on the items that you’re going to be using daily or monthly here—not the things to get you from the US to Madagascar. When I was shopping for PC I spent money on a brand-new hiking backpack and large roller duffle, and I economized by bringing an old daypack from college. What I should have done is invested in a new, sturdy daypack and just used any old suitcase I had lying around as my second checked bag. The duffle doesn’t see a lot of action anymore now that I’m installed at site, but my daypack gets daily use, and it was destroyed after just a few months of biking around town and throwing it up top of the taxi-brousse.

A note about carry-ons: I remember there being some alarm amongst my stage because Peace Corps had warned us that we might be required to check our carry-on bags for the flight from Johannesburg to Tana. No one at PC could specifically say why, or if this was indeed true, and so naturally we were all freaking out that our carry-on bags containing valuables and electronics were going to be lost or smashed as checked bags. I am racking my brain trying to remember what actually happened with this on our flight: I think the issue is that the planes flying from Joburg to Mada are always really small, so the overhead bins can’t fit, say, rollaboard suitcases. I had a medium-sized backpack plus a purse, and I’m pretty sure that I was allowed to bring these on. (Amazing how little I remember from the trip over here!) But make sure your carry-ons have luggage locks, just in case you are forced to check them.

“Brousse bag”: my recommendation for one of your carry-on bags is a messenger bag or daypack that can hold your laptop, phone/headphones, a water bottle, sweatshirt/extra clothing layer, wallet, a book/Kindle, etc. This will become a good bag that you will take with you and hold on your lap when you travel on taxi-brousses (as opposed to having it strapped to the top.)

Large daypack: take one of these for your other carry-on bag-- they are good to have for short trips away from site. Get one on the bigger side rather than a bookbag-sized one-- something like this is ideal.

Roller duffle or small-ish rolling suitcase: don’t bring a massive suitcase; they are pretty impractical here and you’ll never use it. If you do bring a suitcase, make sure it’s on the smaller side; otherwise, it will be too cumbersome to ever use once you get here.

Hiking backpack: I use this whenever I go up to Tana or on a longer trip in-country. They can hold a lot, but they’re still easy to carry while walking around. A bunch of us have this Osprey pack. I would also recommend getting a rain cover for your pack, because if you're traveling on a taxi-brousse it will get strapped to the top and will often get wet if it's raining during your trip.

CLOTHING

Because this country is so massive, it is really impossible to pack the perfect types of clothing without knowing exactly where your site will be. And because you won’t know this until 1 month into training, my recommendation is to bring a basic assortment of things, and then once you get to site and figure out how you’ll want to be dressing on a daily basis, you can supplement by frip shopping or having people send things from home. For example, I had been reading the comments posted on the July 2011 PC Mada group’s Facebook page, so I had it drilled into my head that it would actually be very cold, and so I packed long underwear, gloves, a couple winter hats, and a bunch of long-sleeved shirts. Well it’s true that it may be cold in the highlands in the winter, but my training (March and April) wasn’t in the winter, so it never got that cold. And my site placement ended up being in the steamy Sud Est, where the most you’ll ever need is a long-sleeved shirt at night. Additionally, our (incredibly outdated) "official" Peace Corps packing list said that you have to wear long skirts and cover your shoulders, and that shorts are unacceptable. While that may be true in the highlands, it is much more casual in the Sud Est and other coastal areas, and I wear shorts and a t-shirt most days. (My neighbor also spends the daily siesta hanging out in a bra and lamba. Yeah, it’s pretty casual here!) I also can’t wear all the long skirts that I brought because I have to bike everywhere, so I have given most of them away.  But your town may be different, and you really won’t know until you get there.

There are still a few guidelines that you should follow, however: no spaghetti strap tank tops, no short-shorts, and if you’re going to wear leggings, for god’s sake, at least wear a shirt long enough to cover your butt. You can get away with more fashion-y type things when you’re visiting Tana, so bring a few cute things that make you feel good when you wear them, but in general, think practicality. For any item you’re considering bringing, ask yourself these questions: how easy will this be to hand-wash in a plastic basin? How easily will mud splatters come out of this? Can I ride a bike in this? Does this need to be machine-dried to retain its shape? So in general, don’t bring anything white/light-colored. If you bring white t-shirts you will curse yourself every time you’re trying to scrub out the dirt. And if you’re an agriculture volunteer, remember that you’re going to be spending time working in fields, going camping/hiking, so be prepared with some clothes that you can dedicate to those activities. Most of all, I'd stress that it is not necessary (and in fact, it's foolish) to spend a lot of money on fancy technical/outdoor clothing. If you find yourself needing to buy clothing for PC, hit up Goodwill, Salvation Army, Old Navy, TJ Maxx, etc. Seriously, do NOT spend a lot of money on clothing for Peace Corps service. You will understand when you get there and settle in.

2 pairs jeans: skinny or straight-leg are probably best. Boot cut tend to drag in the dirt.

2-3 pairs pants or capris (black, khaki, olive, etc): dressy enough to wear in an office but able to be biked in. If you’re an ag volunteer, go for more work-type pants.

2-3 skirts, knee-length or longer: you may not end up wearing them very often, but it’s good to be prepared.

2-3 pairs shorts, mid-thigh or Bermuda-length: depending on your site you’ll either wear shorts all the time, or not at all. Still, you’ll want shorts for vacationing even if you’re placed in a conservative area.

1-2 pairs athletic shorts: see above. Also, it’s totally acceptable to go running in Mantasoa as well as many other towns, so bring workout clothes if you’re so inclined.

1-2 pairs sweatpants/leggings: for working out/lounging around/being comfortable on long brousse rides.

1-2 lightweight cotton button-front shirts: really good for areas that require you to cover your shoulders even when it’s hot out. I bought a few from Old Navy for super cheap, and I wear them all the time.

4-5 tank tops: again, no spaghetti straps!

4-5 t-shirts: dark-colored is best. I had fun bringing t-shirts from my favorite NYC places to remind me of home!

2-3 long sleeved shirts: it does get chilly at night, even in warm regions.

3-4 nicer shirts (sleeved) for going out, dressing up, etc: you’ll want something nice for Tana and special occasions.

1-2 cardigans: good for covering up when you want to be more conservative, or if it gets chilly.

1-2 sweatshirts/hoodies: a black zippered hoodie is one of the best things I brought with me.

3-4 dresses: bring at least 1 dressier dress that you can wear for swearing-in, but the others should be casual and comfortable, yet still “appropriate”, if that makes any sense. Think “easy care”, too—forget anything that requires ironing or dry-cleaning (obviously)!

Lightweight jacket/fleece: it will be cold sometimes in Mantasoa, as well as at your site if you’re placed in the highlands.

Rain jacket: get a good quality one—it’ll come in handy during the rainy season.

Light scarf: optional, but I brought one that I love for sentimental reasons. You will probably buy one of the beautiful silk scarves that are woven here in Mada.

1-2 baseball caps/other sun hat: whenever I don’t wear a hat, my neighbors ask me where my hat is. They’re terrified of the sunburns I might get. It’s essential for blocking out the intense sun here.

1-2 belts: extra-adjustable, if possible, to accommodate the oh-so-fun weight loss and gains.

2 pairs of pajama bottoms: one long and one short

1-2 bathing suits: this is not a place you’ll want to wear one of those bikinis that looks really cute but doesn’t stay on. The Indian Ocean waves are intense!

2-3 sports bras: good for biking and working out.

5-6 regular bras: go practical and comfortable, for obvious reasons.

20- 30 pairs of underwear: so, I know this sounds like a lot, but it’s good to have a bunch because hand washing really destroys your underwear.

10-15 pairs socks: grey is the best color to get—again, forget white! You may not need all 10-15 pairs, but they’re hard to find in country, and don’t take up a lot weight in your luggage.

SHOES

Almost every Peace Corps trainee arrives in country sporting a sparkling clean, brand-new pair of Chacos. But you will more than likely just wear flip-flops a lot of the time, because that’s what locals wear anyway. Still, Chacos or Tevas are really handy to have for walking or hiking excursions when you have to get your feet wet, or it’s too hot to deal with socks and shoes. TIP: hit up Poshmark.com to find gently used Chacos for about half the price of new ones. They last a long time to so it's really not necessary to purchase brand new ones for $100+. Use my referral code "dear_ann" (my Poshmark store name) for $10 off your first Poshmark purchase!

It’s good to bring a pair of lace-up hiking shoes in order to have something sturdy and close-toed, but you probably won’t wear them as often as you will Chacos, especially if your site ends up being on the coast. I brought like 20 pairs of socks with me, and now that I’m at site it’s pretty laughable, because I only wear socks and shoes about once a month. Also important to note: because Malagasy people are much smaller than Americans, it’s hard to find large women’s sizes in shoes. I wear a 9 ½ or 10, and when my Chacos got stolen (yep, that happened—someone swiped them from my yard) I had to call my brother, who was traveling in Europe before coming to visit me in Mada, and ask him to go shoe shopping for me.

1 pair Chacos/Tevas/Keens/other rugged outdoor sandals

1 pair hiking shoes

1 pair flip-flops for showering, etc. (you can buy more pairs at any market in Mada)

1 pair dressier shoes for going out/swearing-in ceremony

1 pair running shoes, if you want

1 pair of something fun (if space permits): Sperrys, Chuck Taylors, Rainbows, whatever makes you happy and fits your style! You do you.

Rain/garden boots: optional and up to you, but will come in handy when you're navigating muddy markets and working outside. If you're an agriculture volunteer, you might find them handy for yardwork and gardening projects. However, I would not waste space bringing rubber boots that will crack easily (as mine did). If you're going to take the space to pack them, get a pair of sturdier, part-neoprene garden boots such as Bogs. And remember, your Malagasy counterparts will almost certainly not have any fancy footwear when they work alongside you.

TOILETRIES & MEDICAL SUPPLIES

When the Peace Corps doctors give you your medical kit on your second day in-country, you’ll get the following items: pain relievers, Pepto-Bismol and anti-diarrheals, antacid, cold and allergy medicine, lip balm, cough drops, first aid stuff like band-aids and antibiotic ointment, sunblock (SPF 30), condoms, eye drops, bug spray plus anti-itch cream for when you do inevitably get bitten, and other fun things for dealing with ailments you never knew existed (parasy, anyone?) This is, of course, in addition to the always-enjoyable malaria prophylaxis regimen and barrage of vaccines. You can also request the following items from the medical unit when you are preparing to move to site: multivitamins, moisturizing lotion, tampons/pads, as well as refills of what you may have already run out of.

So, don’t bother stocking up on any of this stuff, as I mistakenly did. Just bring enough of whatever you like to get you from your house to Madagascar (good to have some stuff for the plane, etc.) The only exception is to bring anything you know that you specifically need (maybe the only thing that works for you when you get a cold is DayQuil), and other OTC items that Peace Corps doesn’t give you (I brought some sleeping pills, which were helpful for the long plane ride here as well as sleepless nights at site.)

For toiletry items, plan on bringing enough to get you through 2 months of training, and then when you’re on your way to site during installation, you will most likely have time to shop in Tana to replace anything.  You can get pretty much everything you need at Jumbo and ShopRite, and they even have a lot of western brands, but be forewarned, they’ll be expensive. I did some serious “extreme couponing” while I was bored at home waiting to go to Peace Corps, and stocked up on a lot of stuff for cheap that my mom has been sending me throughout service, so that is another option too. (But remember that it costs $60 to mail a USPS medium-sized flatrate box!)

Shampoo/conditioner: also bring a couple travel-sized bottles, too, for refilling when you go on short trips.

Face wash

Soap

Razor and blades

Baby wipes/face wipes: good for homestay and also at site if your water is far away

Body lotion

Deodorant

Any specific vitamins you like: I brought acidophilus and fish oil.

Lip balm with SPF

Toothbrush and toothpaste

Dry shampoo: I only wash my hair every 2-3 days because I have to fetch water to bathe, so I use this on the in-between days.

Hairbrush and comb

Manicure set
Hair scissors: DIY haircuts are the way to go here.

Pumice stone/foot file: your feet will take a beating here!

Some basic makeup: you probably won’t wear much on a daily basis, but it’s fun to be girly every so often, usually when you’re out in Tana or having a party at the PCTC!

A few fun nail polish colors: I thought I’d go full Peace Corps and never do my nails, but it’s fun every so often.

Small bottle of your favorite perfume, if you like: for special occasions

Face sunblock, pimple cream, and whatever else you regularly use on your skin: I am super fair-skinned, so my splurge is strong French sunblock for my face: LaRoche-Posay SPF 60. Gotta protect against skin cancer!

Small quantity of tampons/pads: to get you through training—after that, you can request them from the medical office.

Hand wipes/hand sanitizer: I always have these in my purse for when I’m traveling around and can’t wash my hands.
3 months of prescription medication: if you give the info to Peace Corps, they will take care of all your refills after that.
3 pairs glasses and plenty of contacts, if you wear them: the PC medical office does not want you to wear contacts while you're here, because you're at increased risk of infections and other complications. We heard a horror story about a girl who flouted this rule and wore contacts at site, but then she developed serious eye problems... and when she went to the doctors, they told her that if she had waited just one more day, she could have gone blind. So, it's not really worth the risk. Most of my friends who wear glasses/contacts wear their glasses when they're at site/without running water, and use contacts when they're in Tana/Fianar and able to be more hygienic. So if you wear contacts, plan on them being for "special occasions" here. I had Lasik surgery a couple years ago so I didn't have to deal with contacts here, and it has been great-- so if you're reading this and not going to Peace Corps for a little while and have the time/money to invest in Lasik, it will most definitely make your life easier. 

You will obviously not be able to bring a 2 years’ supply of items that are harder to find in Madagascar (i.e. baby wipes), so those things I ask for on my care package wishlist.

ELECTRONICS

PCVs here describe Madagascar as the place where electronics come to die. Whether from the humidity, unreliable electrical current, or theft, plan on whatever you bring going away, some way or another, during your 2 years of service. (For example, my iPod got stolen out of our bungalow during a post-IST vacation.) Insurance is definitely recommended! But don’t fret, there are ways of getting replacements if something dies or gets stolen: although it’s not advisable to mail electronics here, there is a well-established fomba (custom) of people’s family members who visit Mada bringing replacement electronics in their carry-on luggage! Update November 2013: after a very wet river trip in which all of our bags were splashed to no end, I thought it would be prudent to emphasize the importance of waterproof bags. I can't stress this enough so I will say it again: WATERPROOF, WATERPROOF, WATERPROOF! This would include camera/iPod/iPad/iPhone cases, general dry bags for electronics, stuff sacks for sleeping bags, and anything else that you would want to avoid getting wet.

Kindle: I never wanted to use a Kindle when I was in the US, but I am so happy having one here: I have over 100 books loaded on it, and it’s great for traveling. Plus the battery lasts a long time, and you can put PDFs on it, so it’s good for technical reading. (Note: once you get here, many PCVs have folders full of hundreds of unlocked Kindle books that you can load onto your Kindle, which is really awesome.)

Small laptop, power cord, plus extra power cord: I would highly recommend bringing a computer, and also bringing a backup power cord just in case yours fries or gets lost. Two people from my stage don’t have computers and it makes things annoying when you have to do your quarterly volunteer report or other PC business. Plus, you’ll want to use it for watching TV/movies. Originally I was recommending to people that they bring netbooks, but apparently those are hard to find now that everyone is gravitating towards tablets. Tablets are tricky because you'll want it to have a USB port and lots of hard drive space. A lot of people in the newer stages have brought iPads, but personally I don't think that it's the best use of money if you're buying something new to bring here. There is no “cloud” here, and not having a USB port will be frustrating because you won’t be able to use a thumb drive or USB modem to get online. If you do bring an iPad, make sure to get the USB attachment for it.

Extra laptop battery (if you have the space/money): not essential but helpful if you don’t have electricity at site, or to replace your original battery if it dies.

iPod, USB cord, plus one extra USB cord: makes brousse rides and noisy neighbors tolerable. Good to have an extra cord in case you lose one.

3 pairs of headphones: because they’ll inevitably break, and if you’re like me, you’d cry if you couldn’t listen to music on a long brousse ride.

iPod speakers: USB powered is best, because then you don’t need to deal with batteries.

Headlamp: essential!!!! Not a bad idea to bring 2, just in case. I keep one at home and one in my travel bag for when I go to my banking town, go visit other PCVs, etc.

Batteries: I use AAA the most because my headlamp and speakers take them.

Rechargeable batteries and solar charger: good so that you don’t need to deal with throwing away batteries. Also, the Chinese-made batteries available in Mada are really bad quality.

A ton of USB thumb drives: you will be using these constantly for swapping media, grabbing files, etc.
Shortwave radio: optional because you can buy one in-country, but the ones you can buy in the US are much nicer, and the programmable presets are nice to have.

Travel alarm clock: I brought an LL Bean one that I really like.

1-2 external hard drives: go as big as you can (at least 1TB), for backing up your laptop as well as getting media. If you bring 2, they both don’t need to be 1TB. I have one old one that I use just for backing up my laptop, and never remove from my house; the other one I take with me when visiting other PCVs so we can swap media. I have La Cie brand hard drives but don’t really like them—I think Western Digital’s are better. NOTE: when you set up your hard drive, make sure to format it (FAT 32?) so that it can be used on both Mac and PC computers. This will make it easier to share media with people even if they have a different type of computer than you do.

A bunch of adapters: they’re really cheap on Amazon; bring 5-10 just to have lots of backups in case they break. The outlets here are the same as Europe. NB: an adapter (which adapts a plug) is not the same as a converter (which converts the actual current). You will almost never ever need a converter here, because all of your electronic chargers should have built-in converters, so don't waste the packing space with one.

2-3 small flashlights: very handy. It’s always good to keep a small flashlight in your purse, too.

Solar charger for USB items? This is up to you, since you might have electricity at site but won’t know it until you get here. Chances are, though, that if you're a health or agriculture volunteer, you will not have electricity. I brought a Solio charger that charges USB items like iPods, but I do have electricity so I never use it.  Also, you can buy some pretty decent solar chargers/lights here in country (either Tough Stuff or Solarland), but not all of them have the ability to charge USB things.

Solar light: it’s good to bring one of these because they don’t take up much room, and you’ll be happy to have it. I brought a really cool light from LuminAid, which I recommend. They are designed to pack up really small, so they won’t take up a lot of luggage space. Even though I have electricity in my house, I use it in my ladosy (outdoor shower hut.)

Camera, sturdy case, battery charger, and cords: I decided to invest in a good camera before coming here, and I am glad I did. I have a Nikon Coolpix P7100, which is not a DSLR but is a step up from a basic point and shoot. A few of my friends have the Canon PowerShot SX2600HS (20x zoom and 12.1 megapixels), and I really like that camera-- it takes a great photos and has a lot of nice features for a point and shoot. I brought an extra camera battery just in case, but I haven’t needed it yet. A few volunteers have really nice DSLRs, which are awesome if you are a photography nut—this country is Disneyland for photographers. Oh, and I brought a tripod but haven’t used it once. If you’re super in photography you might want to bring one.

Unlocked iPhone, if you have one: iPhones are great to have for accessing the internet at sites where it's not practical to use a computer. You can put a Telma or Orange SIM card in it and pay for credit to use their internet plans. For people who can’t access the internet at site, they are very, very useful for getting online when in banking towns, etc. For me, I can get online at site (via a USB modem), so I primarily use my iPhone when traveling. I wouldn’t buy one specifically to bring here, but if you have an old one, or someone wants to give you one, it’s worth bringing.

OTHER STUFF

Small photo album with pictures of home, family, and friends: this is great for when you get to homestay and need something to talk about. Right before I went to homestay I worked with a language trainer and put little post-it tags on each picture, with the Malagasy words for “mother”, “brother”, etc.—this was super helpful on day 1 when my Gasy was still nonexistent, so I’d recommend doing this to any trainees.

Gifts for your host family: I brought maple syrup (I’m from Vermont) plus some toys for the kids. Unfortunately my host sisters ended up being 12 and 16, and so everything I brought was too young for them. So look for stuff that is age-generic. Some ideas: Silly Bandz bracelets, temporary tattoos, hair elastics, markers/pens/notebooks (they love American school supplies here), playing cards, a soccer ball (with pump), nail polish, etc. And, Justin Bieber is HUGE here so if you find a Biebs notebook/school folder/poster/whatever, there is a good chance that someone in your host family will be thrilled. Also, photos are really treasured here, because no one has a camera, and they’re expensive by Malagasy standards to print. So, bring a small empty photo album and you can have Peace Corps print some pics for you to fill up the album with. It makes a really nice gift at the end of training.

Madagascar guidebook: I recommend the Bradt guide over Lonely Planet. Hilary Bradt, who started the company, was a tour guide in Madagascar for 25 years and is an expert on the country. This guidebook is much more thorough and in-depth than Lonely Planet. Plus, the recent Lonely Planet update is really neglectful and pretends that the entire southeast region does not exist. Not ok!

Malagasy/English dictionary: I recommend buying the dictionary that is available at Lulu.com (or whatever the URL is.) I bought one of these and use it a lot. Peace Corps will give you a small dictionary, but it’s super outdated and lacks a lot of words. I also brough a small French/English dictionary that I happened to have, and this has been useful as well. Even though our main language of communication is Malagasy, a lot of my work documents are in French, and sometimes email communication within my counterpart agency is in French. (I studied French in college so I’m pretty able to understand it, but there are some words that I’ve forgotten.)
Sturdy pocket-sized notebook: like a Moleskine-brand one. This will become a good language learning tool because you can carry it around with you and write down new words that you learn.

A few snacks: good for those first few weeks of training when you’re longing for American food!

A few notebooks: lined paper is impossible to find here (it’s only graph paper), so I liked having a few real notebooks for taking notes in during training, as well as for writing letters.

Pens: Gasy pens are notoriously bad. Raid the office supply closet before you leave, if you can. J

1-2 journals: I filled up an entire journal just during training! Now I write a little less frequently, but I still try to journal at least once a week. Also, if you are like me, you’ll get about 5 of them as going-away presents.

Drink packets: some people really hate the taste of water—if you’re one of them, bring a lot of drink packets. I don’t mind water, and never really drank juice or soda in the US, but these are good for adding a little variety (and also mixing with rum for a cheap cocktail!)

Small sewing kit: bring a few extra spools of thread, too.

Leatherman tool and folding utility/pocket knife: because you never know when you’re going to want to cut up a pineapple. Or cut off a tree branch. Or open up a box.

Keychain bottle opener: trust me on this one.
2-3 bandanas: endlessly useful. I am currently using one to mop sweat off of my forehead. Ah, summer in sub-Saharan Africa!

1-2 canvas bags for market shopping: something I wish I had brought, because I have tons of them lying around at home.
Small purse with a cross-body strap: for going out.
Money belt?: I brought one but don't really use it much. Still, it's not a bad idea to have one for when you're in Tana or if you travel somewhere with tons of pickpockets.

Sunglasses: my eyes are really sun-sensitive and I’d die without them, so I brought 4 pairs. Don’t bring anything super-expensive, but also don’t bring any super cheap that will break in a day. Hit up TJ Maxx or Marshalls.

Markers: you’ll be making a lot of flip charts, especially during training! I brought a set of colored Sharpies, which are awesome.

1-2 water bottles: bring a Nalgene bottle because you’ll always be measuring out your water in liters. Also good to bring another bottle with a smaller mouth, so you can drink out of it while riding in a taxi-brousse!

Small, sturdy umbrella: the umbrellas here are of pretty bad quality. I have also never seen a small portable one for sale—they’re always massive.

2 packs of playing cards: great for relieving boredeom. Also handy for those first few days of homestay when your language skills are still bad—you can play a minimal-language game like Uno or Go Fish.

A few books: there will be lots of opportunities to trade books with other PCVs, as well as take them from the communal shelves at the mevas. Most PCVs aim to read 100 books during their service!

Crafty/hobby stuff to keep you happy: such as, thread for making friendship bracelets, colored pencils/watercolors, yarn and knitting needles-- whatever you like! I brought some glue sticks so that I could do a bit of scrapbooking, plus calligraphy pens and paper.

Dry bag: for keeping electronics dry when traveling. I got caught in the rain one time and my iPod happened to be in my backpack, which unfortunately got totally soaked and made my iPod go on the fritz.

4-5 pairs ear plugs: you think you’ll be living in some quiet countryside town, but then you realize that roosters start crowing at 4:30 AM.

NOT NEEDED TILL SITE

I sent myself a box of stuff that I knew I didn’t need immediately, and it was all helpful but definitely not essential.

Pictures/decorations for your house: because I knew about my placement 6 months ahead of departure, I spent that time collecting cool pictures, art, postcards, and flyers from my favorite NYC restaurants and bars to put up on my walls, to make my house feel homey and remind me of good memories from the US. I also printed out “bon voyage/good luck" emails from friends and coworkers, and bought a lot of photo prints from Snapfish, so I have photos of friends and family all over my house. Whenever other PCVs come to my house, they compliment my decorations and pictures—it really makes a difference in making my house feel home-y.

Double-sized sheets: have these sent to you at the PCTC so you’ll have something to put on your bed on your first night at site! Get a dark-colored or patterned set that won’t get stained or dirty as easily.

Towel: like sheets, you can probably find a frip towel at site, but it’ll be good to have a towel when you first get to site. Get one that’s dark colored and not super thick, because you’ll be air-drying it!

Pillow: pillows in this country are terrible—they are made of small bits of foam stuffed inside a pillowcase. I had my mom send me my favorite pillow and it made a huge difference in how well I sleep. You might be able to bring this on the plane in addition to your 2 carry-on bags—some girl in my stage got away with this, but I’m not sure of the rules.

Duct tape: endlessly useful!
2-3 good quality locks (key or combination): good to have for anything you'll need to lock outdoors, such as your kabone, your gate, etc. All the locks you can buy in this country rust like crazy when they are used outdoors. Luggage locks are good to use for the lockers at the meva (transit house), but they aren't really sturdy enough for outdoor use.

Plastic food storage containers: you can buy them at Jumbo, but they’re somewhat expensive.

Seeds: if you want to plant a garden at site!

Flea collars or anti-flea drops: if you plan to get a cat. (Which I highly recommend if you are as rat-phobic as I am!) I use the drops on my cat because the local kids always stole her flea collars.

Gardening/work gloves: especially if you’re an ag volunteer! But I use mine a lot for yard work. Get the kind that are partially rubberized because there are some extremely spiky plants here.

Kitchen stuff: vegetable peeler (you’ll be cooking a lot of carrots—this will make it easier), measuring cups/spoons, spatula, and if you’re a kitchen geek like me, a good chef’s knife and a Microplane. With the exception of the last 2 items, you can find all of these at Goodwill/Salvation Army or the dollar store.

Quick dry bath towel: really handy for traveling or staying the night with other PCVs.

Sleeping bag and/or travel sheet: for camping, sleeping over at other PCV houses, etc. Get one that packs up really small. Mine is too bulky so I never bring it anywhere, which sort of negates the purpose of having a sleeping bag. I do, however, take my travel sheet all the time when I travel. It doesn’t take up much room, and it has come in handy when I have to stay in a “hotel” that doesn’t seem to have ever washed the sheets. NB: make sure to get a waterproof stuff sack/dry bag for your sleeping bag!

Bungee cords: for strapping things to your bike. I’ve never seen these for sale here.

Hammock with mosquito net, plus some good rope and carabiners for hanging it: optional, but these are really cool for traveling to other PCV houses, and if your site ends up being in a hot region but without electricity—if you can’t use a fan, it’s much cooler to sleep in a hammock than a bed. Most PCVs have the Byer of Main “Moskito” hammock, or a Hennessy Hammock. I don’t have one and I’m fine without it, but it would be nice for traveling.

THINGS YOU DON’T NEED

Crazy mosquito gear like head nets, etc. for the most part your mosquito problems will be encountered in your home, around sundown. You won’t be trekking in the jungle through clouds of bugs.
Bike gear: Peace Corps will give you a helmet, lock, bike tool, and pump when you get your bike, plus you can get a rack, bell, bottle cage, bar ends, chain lube, saddlebags, and other accessories by request. However, if you're seriously into biking, and have some bike shorts or other specific clothing, you will probably want to bring them.

Medical supplies, sunblock, bug spray, etc: as mentioned previously, Peace Corps gives you all that.

Expensive outdoor/technical clothing. you’re joining the Peace Corps, not going on safari. I remember during training we were all amazed by how chic and well-dressed one of our volunteer trainers was. She shocked us all by saying that she came to Mada with a suitcase full of like, fishing shirts—and then ditched them all once she a) figured out how people really dress, and b) discovered the wonders of frip shopping!

Fellow PCVs, did I miss anything? Let me know in the comments if you think I did! 

All about cloves (and what my work is here)

It’s December in Vangaindrano, which means that the lychee trees are dripping with strawberry-red bunches of fruit, piles of blushing-pink mangoes line the cobblestone market road, and the streets are richly perfumed with the scent of cloves, a crop that my town and the surrounding areas are famous for.  Right now I’m sitting in the office of my counterpart agency, COLDIS, and on the other side of the wall is there stockpile of local cloves bought recently from the countryside towns, awaiting their trip to the warehouse in Manakara. Every deep inhale brings the heady aroma of cloves, and makes it feel a little bit like Christmas, even if it is 95 degrees out.

Cloves are one of the more famous examples, along with vanilla, cocoa and coffee, of a cash crop that flourishes in Madagascar. The best cloves in the world are said to come from Madagascar and Zanzibar, although they are widely grown in Indonesia as well. My counterpart agency here in Madagascar is an organization called COLDIS, which works with collectives of smallholder farmers to purchase their spices and export them internationally. COLDIS buys pepper and ginger as well as cloves, but it’s the latter that is their primary focus. The name of the organization stands for “collect and distribute”, and when you lok at the challenges of being a smallholder farmer in rural Madagascar, you’ll understand the importance of what they are doing.

First of all, most small-scale spice farmers in Madagascar live in rural areas and are fairly poor. They usually farm rice and other subsistence crops, in addition to growing cloves (or other spices), which are harvested once a year around October or November. Cloves do well in coastal regions, so the southeast (around Vangaindrano) and the northeast (around Fenerive Est) are where most of them are grown in Madagascar. Unfortunately, the coastal areas are also the most susceptible to cyclone damage, and therefore it’s where a lot of rural poverty is concentrated. In addition, the roads are incredibly bad when you’re going outside of a major town like Vangaindrano, and when you factor in cyclone-season rains and the fact that none of these farmers can afford to own a car, let alone the gas to run it, then you understand the infratructure challenges that exist here. So what COLDIS does is unique and helpful: they drive their trucks out to the countryside towns where the rural collectives of spice farmers are located, thereby giving market access to these farmers. They can sell their spices without having to travel very far, or spend a lot of money on taxi-brousse transport. Then, once COLDIS has collected cloves from all of the towns, they are sorted, processed, and packaged in the Manakara warehouse for distribution, via the cargo port in Tamatave, for export to clients in Europe.

Triage workers sorting cloves in Manakara

Bags of cloves bound for an export client in Rotterdam

The 4 different types of cloves: CG3, which is the "creme de la creme", baby cloves, stems, and griffes.

Although I had originally wanted to work with Madagascar vanilla, because of my food background, I was still really excited when I got my work assignment and learned that my project would involve spice farmers. It’s taken some time to figure out exactly what my work with COLDIS will be, but I’ve recently been assigned a project that I’m really excited about: I’ll be helping implement a sustainability program with the clove farmers around Vangaindrano so that the cloves from here can be marked as “sustainable”. COLDIS wants to ascribe to the standards set forth by the Sustainable Spices Intiative, which is a large-scale initiative that has been adopted by most of the major players in the spice industry-- including heavyweights like McCormick & Co. “Sustainability” is certainly a buzzword these days, but what does this actually mean, you may ask: in a nutshell, it means adopting a variety of changes that involve training the farmers on harvest techniques and environmental stewardship, finding farmers who want to plant new trees and ensuring that 15,000 new trees are planted, and working with the laborers in Manakara to ensure they’re healthy and treated fairly, among other things. These standards are a win-win for all parties because they will ensure a continued harvest for the small farmers, an equitable work environment for the Manakara laborers, and a healthy export market for COLDIS in Europe and America, where consumer demand calls for more and more food products to be certified as sustainable.

All in all, I’m excited about the possibilities that this project offers for the farmers, as well as COLDIS. I’m also thrilled to have been given the responsibility to project-manage this on the local level. Although it’s been frustrating trying to get this off the ground, I’m hopeful that once it kicks off it will keep me busy and challenged. And who knows, perhaps this will lead to a post-Peace Corps career in the global spice trade! I’ll leave you with a recipe using cloves that comes from a former volunteer, which is included in the Peace Corps Madagascar cookbook that I’m helping to edit. This makes a wonderful holiday gift or contribution to a holiday party.

Christmas Rum

1 large bottle light rum

1-2 cinnamon sticks

3 vanilla beans

Small handful whole cloves

Small piece of ginger, peeled and sliced

2-3 whole nutmeg

Open the rum and drink (or pour out!) about ¼ cup worth. Place the spices in the bottle, recap, and give it a shake. Let sit in a cool, dark place for several weeks or months, until rum is spiced and fragrant and has turned caramel in color. If giving as a gift, pour into a decorative bottle along with the spices, and add a little gift tag.

Thankful

This year I am celebrating Thanksgiving in Madagascar, the first time I've been away from my family and outside of America for the holiday. It's also only the second time I have missed the traditional family reunion Thanksgiving that my dad's family has been doing for over 50 years. So, I asked my cousin to say a few words on my behalf to all the family members that I won't get to see. Here's what I wrote:

This year marks my first Thanksgiving away from America, and only my
second time missing the big family gathering. It's rather interesting
to look at the holiday and its meaning in a completely different
context-- both geographically as well as mentally. Here in Madagascar
I find myself living in a land of indescribable beauty, but also among
heartbreaking poverty. I see school-age children running around or
working in the market, instead of sitting in a classroom, because
their family can't afford to pay the school fees. I see people with
distended abdomens and lack of pigment in their hair because they
don't eat enough protein. I see families looking longingly at the
fruit trees behind my house to see if there is any food to be gleaned.
And yet, even with all of this despair and need, there is still
beauty, and friendship, and happiness. Families spend time together
just sitting and enjoying each other's company. Kids find creative
ways to turn found objects into toys. Men get together in the evenings
to sing traditional songs. And Malagasy people show a touching
generosity to myself and one another, even if they can ill afford it.
Living this way for the past 9 months has taught me many things, but
one of the most important is an appreciation for the simplest things
in life. I find myself thankful not for a computer, a cell phone,
clothes, an iPod, or any other material things. Rather, I am grateful
for the fact that the water pump by my house is no longer broken, and
I and my neighbors can access clean water. I am grateful for my good
health, and the fact that I have the resources to deal with any health
problem that I may encounter. I am grateful for the fact that I have
just enough money to buy vegetables and fruit and the right kind of
food to keep me healthy. I am grateful for my friends back home, who
have not only not forgotten me, but have in fact shown such
thoughtfulness by sending me care packages and letters. And finally, I
am grateful for you, my family, because no matter where I am in the
world, and no matter how small my salary is, I know that you are
always a presence in my life-- and that is one of the most precious
things we can ask for.


Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, wherever you are, and may you have a wonderful holiday filled with family, friends, and a bounty of delicious food.

When in Madagascar, do as the Malagasy do

As I near the 7 month mark here at site, I’ve gotten to establish a fairly good daily routine, which has helped me to feel at home here. Because some of you have expressed interest in what daily life is like here, here’s a description of my day-to-day routine is.

First of all, when you live somewhere without very much electricity, life’s daily rhythm tends to revolve around the daylight. Right now it’s dark here by around 6:30PM, and people are in their homes for the night as this point, cooking dinner and spending time with family. Even though I have electricity (usually) at my house, I like to be home by 5pm, because otherwise the roads are very dark. By 8:30pm I’ve usually taken a bucket bath in my ladosy (outdoor shower hut), eaten dinner, and washed the dishes, and then I spend the next couple hours checking email on my laptop (I have a USB modem, but I pay by the megabyte so I have to use it sparingly), reading, writing, or watching a movie on my laptop. I’m usually tired and in bed by 10 or 10:30, which is obviously a huge change from my night owl ways back in the US!

In the mornings I wake up around 7, although my neighbors are usually up and making noise by 5 or 5:30 (when they start banging around I usually put in earplugs to prolong my sleeping time.) For breakfast I alternate making oatmeal (thanks to people’s generous care packages!) and coffee at home, or going to my local mofo (fried bread) stand and having mofo balls and coffee there, eating while standing up and chatting with my neighbors.  When I eat at home, I usually have a leisurely breakfast and read a few pages of The Economist, my subscription to which my mom has graciously been forwarding a few issues at a time. Then after breakfast I clean up and get dressed, slather on sunblock, and do some work at home on my computer, or bike to the COLDIS or TIAVO office. I try to work in the office of one of my two counterpart agencies every day, although at this point my work projects are still taking shape. For COLDIS, a collective that buys spices and exports them abroad, I am starting to work on a sustainability project (more on that in a separate blog post); for TIAVO, a microfinance organization, I am hoping to work with some of their clients to do business consulting and advising on credit usage.

One big facet of life here is the sieste, the 2+ hour break in the middle of the day when offices and schools are closed and no one works.  Part of the reason is the heat, but another reason is that students and workers go home to eat lunch. Things close up between 11:30 and 12, and most offices and banks reopen between 2 and 3. They close down again by 4:30 or 5, so as you can see, the workday is not like your typical American one. Usually I go into the market after the office closes at 11:30, in order to pick up food for that day’s lunch and dinner. Then I bike home to cook and fetch water, and then I usually do a bit of reading or studying before heading back to work, or working on a project at home.

On the weekends I am a bit more leisurely and tend to spend either Saturday or Sunday at home, cleaning my house, reading or watching movies, or hanging out with the local kids who drop by to draw pictures or goof around. I always spend one weekend morning entirely devoted to doing laundry, which takes about 2 hours, and I also like to go for a long bike ride every weekend to keep in biking shape. This weekend my plan is to ride to my friend’s site, Lopary, which is 21km north on a very hilly road. Because I’ve been traveling and not biking every day I am definitely out of shape right now, so 21km is going to be a “long” ride for me right now!

So that, in a nutshell, is what daily life is like here in my town. When my brother was just here visiting, with him slightly incredulous at how early I wanted to go to bed every night, I was reminded on just how different my routine is from how it was back home. It was a bit surprising to realize how much I have adjusted my lifestyle and internal clock to the rhythm of life here. But as they say, when in Rome—or in this case, when in Madagascar…

Let's go to the beach, beach

[Lyric from "Starships" by Nicki Minaj-- which is a silly song to be quoting, but it's a favorite among the Sud Est volunteers, so it's very evocative of Peace Corps for me!]

I remember it distinctly, the day during training when we found out where we’d be serving as Peace Corps volunteers: our trainers put blindfolds on us then walked us to the basketball court at the PCTC, where a map of Madgascar had been painted, in order to place us on the map, literally, where we’d be serving. I remember whipping off the blindfold, looking down at where my feet had been placed, and exclaiming “I’m going to the beach!” Being close to the ocean wasn’t something that had been on the top of my priority list for site placement, but when it became my reality, I couldn’t deny my happiness. (Ironically, I had originally wanted to be close to either Tana or Fianar, and had specifically not wanted to be in the Sud Est, but it’s funny how much I now love being here, and do not like the Tana/Fianar regions!) A couple of our trainers that week were Sud Est volunteers, and they both told me how awesome my town was, and that it was about 10km from the ocean. And so ever since I got to site, I had wanted to find out exactly how to get there from my house. Sure, I go to the beach all the time when I’m in Farafangana or Manakara, but with the Indian Ocean so temptingly close to my actual home, I was dying to explore how to get there. My friend Matt was in Vangaindrano a couple weeks ago helping me with my painting project, and when I suggested we take the afternoon off from painting in order to go explore how to get to the ocean, he was game.

To get to the Indian Ocean from Vangaindrano, you essentially just follow the Mananara River, which forms the northern border of my town, all the way as it winds its way eastward and spills out into the ocean. So we set off in the direction of the river and followed alongside it as best we could. At first this took us on what was little more than a cow path, but soon it opened up and became an actual road. We kept riding east as the river hugged the tanam-bary, crossing rickety wooden bridges and traversing rock-studded roads. As we went we’d keep asking people “aiza ny ranomasina?” (where is the ocean?), and they’d keep pointing us in the right direction. After about 45 minutes of biking the road began to close up, lushly vegetated on either side by thick clusters of banana trees. And soon after that, I cried out “I see the horizon!”

The road spills into the small village of Ampatsinakoho, dead-ending at the small ravinala huts that fringe the shore. Crowds of small children encircled us and our bikes as we introduced ourselves and asked the name of the town where we were. And then I looked past the huts and saw it: the Indian Ocean, at last. Even though I’d seen it multiple times already, this felt like my beach, in my town, and so it took on an even more special meaning. The beach was crowned with rows up rows of wooden lakanas (canoes) used for fishing, and we had the good fortune to be able to watch a craftsman working on carving a new lakana out of a tree. In order to get in a bit of swimming we hopped back on our bikes and headed south along the shore, biking on top of a grassy knoll that framed the sandy beach below. After a quick jump in the water to cool off after an hour-long bike ride, jumping around in the now-familiar massive Indian Ocean waves, Matt and I sat on a dessicated tree to soak up the absolute peacefulness that this beautiful, deserted spot offered us. I sat and watched the horizon line off in the distance, trying to figure out why there were waves breaking so far off shore. I finally wondered out loud, and then to our astonishment, we realized that what we were looking at was not waves: we were seeing humpback whales, cresting out of the ocean and landing back in the water with a splash to rival the biggest wave out there.

We sat there for a little while longer as I tried to absorb everything around me. I luxuriated in the calm satisfaction of finally reaching my goal of finding the beach from my town, and in the magnificent reward the journey brought me. And I reflected gleefully, with an innate sense of wonder, just how lucky I am to live here. I don’t think it will ever get old.

Ambani-volo adventure

A couple days ago I found myself at a crossroads, literally. I was embarking on my first “business trip”, Peace Corps-style, and was due to go out to the ambani-volo (rural countryside) town of Masianaka to work with the clove farmers. My counterpart and I made plans to take a morning taxi-brousse on Wednesday, work on Thursday, and head back on Friday. As this was to my first time working directly with the farmers, and the start of a new sustainability project that I’m rather excited about, I was nervously anticipating the trip.

But things, as often happens in Peace Corps, didn’t go according to plan. I was sitting on the brousse waiting for my counterpart to show up and meet me, when suddenly my phone rang: it was him, saying that he was stuck working in the office but that I should go, and that he would meet me in Masianaka the next day. So I went, and bounced along the backcountry roads for 2 hours when an idea popped into my head: if my counterpart wouldn’t be joining me until Thursday mid-morning, it would be incredibly boring to be in a small town alone for 24 hours with nothing to do. My friend Leo’s site, Matanga, is somewhat close to Masianaka, and I’ve been trying to go see his site for ages. Certainly, if I just went straight to Masianaka I’d have plenty of time to get my work done in preparation for the presentation to farmers, as well as some time to explore the area and see the ocean. But on the other hand, I’d be alone in an unfamiliar (albeit tiny) town. Perhaps it would be safer for me to spend the night in Matanga at Leo’s house? And I’d been trying to meet up with Leo to catch up for ages, and like 2 ships passing in the night, we just keep missing each other, either when he’s in my town or I’m in our banking town. Plus I happened to be carrying a letter for him that arrived at our shared PO box in Vangaindrano, so it would be good for me to deliver his mail. And so I made the split decision to go to Matanga, which marked my fifth attempt to go visit Leo—but in this case, the fifth time’s the charm!

When we got to the fork in the road where you can either go to Matanga or Masianaka, I abruptly told the brousse driver that I’d changed my plans and wanted to get off there. Somewhat bewildered, he nevertheless stopped the brousse and helped me unload my bike from the roof, which I’d brought because I was planning to bike back to Vangaindrano from Masianaka (about 35km.) So I strapped on my helmet, saddlebags, and backpack and set off on the 10km towards Matanga, with a plan that I would surprise Leo, spend the night there, and then set off for Masianaka early in the morning, which would allow me to be there in time to meet my counterpart.

Instantly I was treated with a taste of the road conditions to come: the first stretch of road was an incredibly rocky downhill slope. But then the road forked again, and although there was a sign, it didn’t say “Matanga this way”—it said something in Malagasy that I didn’t understand. I asked a passerby which way to go, and he said right, so once again, off I went, and was met by even more challenging rocky downhills. My bike was misbehaving and kept fishtailing due to the weight of my saddlebags, which made it even more of a difficult ride. I stopped to pump more air into my tires and wondered to myself, did I just make an incredibly stupid decision? Here I was biking on a bad road with no cell phone reception, going to a town with no cell phone reception, and only the brousse driver and the other passengers heard me say I was going to Matanga. But, the deed was gone, so I kept going, all the while cursing myself as I kept being faced with more and more challenging stretches of road: rock-studded uphills, incredibly rutted downhills, and just generally terrible conditions: this is officially the worst road I have ever seen in my life. Every time I was greeted with another impossible rocky hill I swore out loud and hopped off my bike to walk up it, in a bid to save my tires as well as my hips. Of course, the benefit of all those hills is that they afforded absolutely gorgeous vistas, so I did in fact stop to smell the roses. But every passing minute made me more and more angry with the ride, which was definitely longer than 10km-- although there were no route markers so I had no way of knowing, which was incredibly maddening. My head was a boiling kettle of anger and frustration, which only intensified when passersby would tell me I still wasn’t near Matanga yet.

Finally, 2 sweaty hours later, the road opened up into an actual, somewhat developed town, and when I saw the sign for a school that read “Matanga” I just about passed out from the relief. After asking a few people for directions, I found the right house, and by exclaiming “surprise!”, woke a very confused Leo up from a midafternoon nap.

After I recounted my journey and my commitment to never, ever do that bike ride again, Leo figured out what had happened. “Ohhhh you took the bad road!”, he said. Apparently it doesn’t actually need to take 2 hours to go about 14km—there is, in fact, a better road that is actually 10km to Matanga—it was the other road at the second fork. And the sign that I couldn’t understand? It says “don’t take this road unless you have a 4x4!” Um, yeah, that’s quite a warning. I was furious with myself for not taking the other route, but it made for a good story when Leo was introducing me around town. We spent the day hanging out, cooking dinner, and just generally catching up, before turning into bed early—I was planning to head out at 6:30am to do the 25km ride to Masianaka, but this time on the “good” road!

And so the next day, after some mofo balls and coffee, I took off in the cool morning air. My first challenge was the “bridge” (or should I say, lack thereof) just outside of town. Leo surmised that the kid giving me directions probably told me to go the way he did because the bridge on the “good” road is broken, and is only passable by walking a bike over it. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but followed Leo’s instructions to dismount, walk my bags across, and then come back for my bike. As I carried my bags over walking on a single plank, my fear of heights resurfaced, and I was terrified at the thought of both having to cross over it again, as well as carry my bike across it and cross it one more time. Thankfully, a nice man saw me struggling and carried my bike across in a 5 second trip, making me feel quite untalented. And so once again, I set off, and although there were definitely some rocky hills that I needed to walk up, I made much better time: it took me about an hour to do the 10km to the fork in the road, and then another hour to ride the 13km south to Masianaka. The second section of road was mostly blissfully flat, and a few kilometers south of the fork it becomes the town of Nosy Omby (“Cow Island”, though it’s more of an inlet than an island) with gorgeous views in the distance of the Indian Ocean, sun twinkling off the water in all its glory.

I arrived in Masianaka mid-morning and found a place to rent a bungalow for the night. Masianaka is a very small town, and most of its reason for being is the fact that it’s home to a ferry crossing that anyone driving south to Ft. Dauphin needs to take. With only a few hotelys and one epicerie, there isn’t much going on. There’s no electricity, no cell phone reception, and no water pumps anywhere in town. And so when I asked the proprietress if there was anywhere I could take a bucket bath, she said there was a place “over there” and pointed off in the distance. Her daughter offered to take me, and off we went along with 2 other girls. What I thought might be a quick trip ended up being a 20-minute walk through the tanam-bary (rice fields) and towards the ocean: the “place to bathe” is actually a natural freshwater pool on the beach. It was a beautiful walk and I was thrilled to be standing on the beach, but I declined to bathe there after seeing two of the girls pull down their pants and pee directly in the water.

I went back to my tiny little hut and managed to clean enough of the biking grime off of me using baby wipes that I’d luckily brought (thanks to Bridget and Shelly for sending them—you have no idea how useful they were!), and after changing into “work” clothes, I finished writing notes for the talk I wantd to give the farmers. And then I set about waiting for my counterpart. And waiting. And waiting. I luckily had a book with me, and spent the better part of a day sitting around outside reading and looking at any arriving car or taxi-brousse to see if he was on it. Sadly, he never showed. I was ready to give up and get a ride back to Vangaindrano when it started to get dark, and I actually saw a car with 2 of my TIAVO coworkers pass through town. When I told them what happened they offered to give me a ride home, but when I said that I had a bike with me, they realized they had no way to strap it to the car. Damn. So night fell and after eating another rice-and-fish meal, I went back to my bungalow to turn in for the night, praying that it was not a place that rats liked to frequent. 

I fell asleep listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, and luckily didn’t hear any rat activity. I woke up early today and after downing 6 small bananas, set off on the road to Vangaindrano. It was a pleasant ride, probably the more so because I was so happy to be getting home, and I covered about 34km (on a fairly bad road) in approximately 2 hours and 45 minutes. The best part of the ride was the fact that I beat the pickup truck that was leaving Masianaka around the same time and had offered me a ride, which I declined because a) I fixed the issue with my bike, and b) the driver was being an condescending, misogynistic d-bag by implying that I couldn’t possible know what to do with a bike because I was a girl. (The best feeling was when I zoomed past him and gave him a big “eff you” smile in the process.)

The first thing I did when I got to Vangaindrano was stop at the office to find my counterpart and ask, essentially, why the hell did he leave me out there alone? He said that instead of going to Masianaka on Thursday morning as he’d said on the phone, he ended up going Wednesday afternoon. And when he got there and asked around, people told him that I’d gone to Matanga, so he assumed I wasn’t coming and went to a different town to do work. He said he passed through Masianaka on Thursday and people said I wasn’t there, but that doesn’t make sense to me because I was there from 9am onwards. (I could have been misunderstanding him though, because I’m still working with a language barrier.) When I got home, I was a heady mix of emotions: happiness and relief to be back at my house, anger and frustration at the fact that I had wasted 3 days and a lot of money, disappointment that I went all the way out there for nothing, but also pride in the fact that I conquered that road by bike. I’m not sure when I’m go back out to Masianaka, but it’ll probably have to be soon because the project needs to get started. Whenever it is, though, next time I am not going alone!