7 weeks from now...

I will no longer be in Madagascar. It is a strange thought to me, as it doesn't seem that long ago that I wrote the entry "7 weeks ago." However, I also feel very different than I did then. I realized the other day how normal Madagascar seems to me now. I'm very used to watching the news in Malagasy and only understanding a tenth of it. The fact that only restaurants and nothing else are open after 6 pm no longer phases me, even when I'd really like to make some copies of something at 6:10pm... I'll just wait till the next day. Not being able to feel my ass after a crammed in taxi be (local bus) ride is now an everyday occurrence. And a meal without rice is definitely a rare occurrence. I'm now afraid of what will happen when I get back to the States. Everything will seem so big, so luxurious, so expensive and so convenient. I'm already so excited about the idea of being able to brush my teeth with water from the faucet and not having to soak my fruit in bleach for 5 minutes before I can eat it. Seen in this light, the little things really do count.

Yet, I know I will miss Madagascar, because nothing is quite like it, and I've struggled with really being able to capture it in words. The other day I was riding a taxi be out to the doctor's house to get the stitches out of my head (see last entry) and I was struck with the singular beauty of Madagascar. I'm sitting in the back row of the crammed bus, with barely any room to breath and people shouting in Malagasy and passing dirty money around. Luckily, I'm sitting by the window, which has the appearance of a spider web of cracks, but I can still see outside, and I notice that it is a particularly stunning sunset with a vivid orange providing a remarkable contrasting background to the multitude of banana tree leaves that have been shredded rather poetically by the wind. These trees line the streets of wooden shacks with tin roofs that can serve as anything from your local mecanic, to a restaurant, to a home for 8 people. And since it is rush hour, the variety of the Malagasy population can be seen in the streets, with the shoeless children begging for money, standing next to the modest business man in a suit waiting for his taxi be home. All facets of life here are on the surface. I guess that's the best I can do. The contrasts of life here are just much more visible, such that the sky, sunset, beautiful vista is that much more beautiful because of the surrounding poverty and difficulties of life and vice versa. And it's not just in Tana or the cities, but even in the forests, where people from surrounding villages, who have just had their rice crop ruined from the torrential rain, stumble upon you while you're looking for plants or counting flowers. It has a way of putting things in perspective for you that I have to yet to experience in America or anywhere else for that matter.

Being an American here has also proved enlightening. I'm used to the European response to Americans, and I will admit that I've constantly tried to avoid the label of "ugly American tourist" or even being labeled as American at all while in Europe. But after living in a country where very few Americans come to visit let alone live for 9 months, I feel I've suddenly become the American cultural ambassador, or token American if you will, to everyone I know. At the office, I'm consistently asked to help translate a phrase in English or to help the wording of an e-mail or paper in English. While writing this I was just asked what the equivalent of a Bachelor's degree would be here (a Maitrise, for those of you who are curious). And frequent cross-cultural stories are exchanged. I'm also consulted with every question about American culture, "Like what's Texas like?" A state which I've never been to, but I'm still expected to know something about it... and I guess I do know more than they do, but it's a role I'm not used to. Now, some of you might be saying to yourselves "Isn't that what a Fulbgright fellowship is all about? Being a positive American cultural ambassador in your country?" And you would be right, and I don't begrudge these small requests of my American citizenship. However, now things have gone a little far, as the American Embassy has asked me to participate in an American Culture Conference for people in the education system here who are interested in American Culture. As an American and a Fulbright scholar, I'm expected to know something about our own culture and be able to give an enlightening and fulfilling lecture. However, as many of you know, I've spent my education years studying other cultures/languages/plants than my own, and even profess to not speak English correctly (my brother can attest to that). Moreover, American culture is very complex and vast... so vast and complex that it was a possible choice of major at Vassar College. So, needless to say, when I first heard about this lecture, I was feeling less than qualified. However, I have now decided to rise to the challenge and talk about something with substance that befits my Vassar education and Fulbright fellowship. I will keep you posted on the developments of my topic and how the lecture finally ends up going (it's not until May 24-25th).

As for the rest of life, I'm hoping to be in good health for the rest of my 7 weeks here (I've had bad luck for the past month, but am finally feeling better), so that I can finish my research and enjoy my Malagasy life while it lasts. Love to you all!