Madagascar Botanical Adventure

Lost in America?

2005-07-11T22:32:00.000+03:00

So I have arrived back in the United States. In fact, I've been back for awhile, and have just been too busy to post an entry. I apologize, and enough people have now requested a final entry, that I feel obligated to oblige them (hahahaha, what a funny twist on words!).

Being back in the US is both completely bizarre and also utterly normal. Columbus hasn't really changed all that much and I find myself driving the same cars, on the same roads, going to the same stores, to buy the same kind of stuff. And in a mid-western, banal way, it is totally comforting. Nothing can ever replace the house I grew up in, my mom's food, my dad's jokes, my brother's advice or my 13-yr old dog, Ralphie. These were the things I missed most when I was in Madagascar, and it helps incredibly with culture shock to find these things mostly unchanged (my dog does move a lot slower now... he's pretty old).

I have had my little freak out moments... the first time I ate Graeter's (the BEST ice cream in the world) was something on par with a religious experience. I find that I crave bizarre food things... I still need to eat a lot of rice, but I'm eating a lot more donuts than I ever have before (it's something I missed that i didn't even realize... don't worry, it's not that many). I think I'm allergic to air conditioning... I've had a weird, scratchy throat that gets worse whenever I go inside.

Seeing people has been the best part about being home, and much less weird than I expected. My parents did not go into shock at the airport or have any type of epileptic fit. My friend Andry accompanied me back to the States and we've been to DC, NYC, Vassar, Cincinnati, OH and Lawrenceburg, IN, and in all places I've seen great friends and family and had a wonderful time. The hardest part with everyone is where to begin telling the stories of the past 9 months. But I've found that you just start with small stories and the conversation flows from there. Relationships continue like they did before, and in some ways, I feel like I never left.

Madagascar has definitely left it's mark though. I'm a lot calmer than I used to be and don't see the need to rush as much as I did before. I even walk a bit slower than I did. We took the Greyhound bus back from New York to Columbus, and the 14 hour ride went smooth and easy and the time just flew by. It's ten times better than any taxi brousse I ever took in Madagascar and it was the cheapest way to go. Andry and I are now in St. Louis at the Missouri Botanical Garden, doing work, and we go back to Columbus, before he heads back to Madagascar about a week from now. The rest of the summer will be devoted to working on my research and seeing other friends and family, before my mom and I drive across the country, so I can start my Ph.D. at UC-Irvine.

Lost in America? Well not really, and definitely not as much as I thought I would be. Though, I'll let you know if that all changes once I move to California.

Culture shock

2005-06-20T13:52:00.000+03:00

So I'm still in Paris and working hard (yes, despite what you may think, I am researching hard!) and it's terribly hot here. It feels worse than in Tana, though I think probably you expect the heat in Tana, but here it's a surprise. At least it's not as bad as in Maintirano, where no matter where I was, or what I was doing, I was soaked in my own sweat.

Anyway, I saw Star Wars. And I'm afraid I can't tell you what I thought, because I was a little too overwhelmed and excited by the whole experience. Not only was it Star Wars (my family can tell you how much I enjoy the whole movie series), but also in a big theatre, with a huge screen and amazing sound. You all back in America are blase about that kind of thing, but I was giddy, happy pratically through the whole movie, and so I don't remember a lot about it, except when Anakin put on the Darth Vador costume... that was pretty cool.

That kind of feeling has been pretty characteristic of my time here in Paris. I walked into the French equivalent of Target (though smaller and with food) on Friday and I think I scared some of the people in the store. Not only was I blown away by all the pretty clothes, makeup, shoes, food etc., I was shocked by the prices. I think I walked around the store with my mouth hanging open, and I even admit that I talked to myself in amazement. I only ended buying a soda, because otherwise it was too overwhelming for me. I went to a mall with all my favorite French stores the other day, and was amazed by the fashion, and felt very out of style myself. But again, couldn't bring myself to buy anything. Hopefully, by Friday, I'll have gotten over this fear and will be able to be a normal person again... who knows!

Other things i've noticed in Paris... everyone seems very well fed. I know that must sound weird, and it's not like everyone in Madagascar is on the verge of starvation or anything (though there are many places where it is a major concern), it's just that the majority of people I saw in Tana are pretty lean and in shape and also relatively small. They definitely don't overeat. Now in Paris, people don't seem fat to me, just bigger and sometimes a little fat will show in the love-handle area etc, something I never noticed before, but now it stands out. I don't know what I'll think once I'm back in the States. The nice thing now is that in Madagascar I felt like the biggest, fattest person there, and now I'm in the middle part of the bell curve, instead of the farther end (you remember the bell curve from middle school health class, right?).

Otherwise, I've just been trying to enjoy Paris. I spent the weekend helping my French mother, Therese, with whom I live, to take care of her granddaughters, and so there was a lot of playing in the park, and keeping children entertained. I'm actually very exhausted by it all. It stays light until 10pm, so it's nice to stay outside, particularly in the evening when it's cooler. I also actually called my parents, instead of them calling me, and I left one of my typical, characteristically long messages, which I haven't done for 9 months. My mom was very excited by it. Don't worry, once I'm back in the States I'll eventually get around to all my friends and leave terribly long messages for all of you.

So, tomorrow is the fete de la musique in Paris and so I'll be out with my friends from work here, dancing in the street to lots of different groups with the rest of Paris. It really is a wonderful tradition and I'm happy I'm here for it! Then I leave Friday afternoon here, and will be back in Columbus, Ohio at my parent's house sometime in the evening. I'll write to let everyone know I arrived safely. Merci et je vous embrasse tous!

Back in a Western country again....

2005-06-16T18:38:00.000+03:00

The internet is so fast here!!! I'm blown away how it takes just mere seconds instead of many, many minutes to load a page. I know this must sound strange, but it sooo true.
Anyway, I'm in Paris, working away on the last bit of my project. Saying goodbye was difficult last night, and I will admit that there were many tears. Madagascar had become a home and it's always hard to say goodbye to a home, especially when you're not entirely sure when you'll see it again. However, I know deep in my heart, that I will be back there soon.
Paris now feels both comforting and strange. Nearly everyone is white and everything is clean. I don't have to worry about going to the bathroom because I'll always be able to find acceptable toilets... trust me, it's important. I'm staying with the same woman in the same apartment that I always have, so that is wonderful and reassuring, because it is also like a home here to me. Everything is soooo expensive!! I had to take a cab from the airport because my bag was incredibly too heavy and I spent more on this taxi than I did on groceries for a week in Tana.... or my taxi fare would have paid for one night in the nicest hotel in Tamatave (a city on the coast). It's just hard to part with that kind of money now.
It's wonderfully warm and light here (it's nearly 6pm, usually dark in Madagascar at this time), and I love Paris at this time of year. It really is a beautiful city. My plans for this week are: to finish my work (priority), see Star Wars (probably tomorrow... I'll let you know what I think), go to my favorite cafes, and avoid shopping (I always spend too much money shopping in Paris... it's like a curse!). I get back to the United States on June 24th, and I'll try to write once more before that. Until then, je vais profiter de mon sejour a Paris!!

Veloma Madagasikara

2005-06-06T09:23:00.000+03:00

So long...farwell...goodbye Madgascar. Counting today (June 6th), I have 10 days left here. So I've started this post, and everyday I'm going to write about something I'm going to miss about Madagascar and some of the things I won't so much miss.

1- June 6th:
I will desperately miss my apartment. Not only is it probably the nicest apartment I will ever live in, but it's the first place I've lived by myself, and when I look back and think about my last 9 months here, I will always fondly picture my "penthouse" with the nearly 360 degree view of Tana, in the center of town. So added to that, is my neighborhood, with my gardiens, shopowners, taxi drivers and prostitutes. It has been an unique community to live in and I wouldn't have changed my experience for the world!
I will not miss constantly being asked for money by clearly homeless, parentless children. It truly breaks my heart to see them, and it has only gotten more difficult the longer I've been here, because I've learned how difficult and miserable their lives truly are. I wish I could have done more for them, than give them money or food. However, in truth, they are very poignant, visible examples of the poverty in this country, and their haunting faces will be a constant reminder of that to me and in a strange way I appreciate the reality of that fact. Madagascar is not just sunshine and cute lemurs!

2- June 7th:
I will miss the people I've met and made friends with here. The Malagasy are incredibly generous and welcoming people, and I've learned so much from them in my short time here. I will particularly miss my colleagues at work, who I've become used to seeing everyday and talking about everyday things. They were also the first to welcome and accept me, and without their help, I would never have been able to finish my work, or more importantly, feel at home here.
I will not miss taxi brousses, or more particularly, the people associated with taxi brousses. I always feel like they are trying to cheat me out of money, or they drive the slowest one could imagine possible. I guess it is part of the experience, and god knows, I've experienced them enough. I guess maybe one day I will look back fondly and laugh about them, and it's true that Greyhound now seems like luxury traveling, but for the moment, they are still too fresh in my mind.

3- June 8th:
I will miss the landscape here. Madagascar is unlike any other country I've seen, with such unique and beautiful mountains, forests, beaches, deserts... I love the red earth of the high plateau, with the tall red, brick houses, surrounded by rice paddies. Or the lush, fertile rainforests that cover the mountainsides of the east coast and surpass all my expectations for what I had imagined the tropical rainforests of Madagascar to be like. I've taken many a road trip (most in the dreaded taxi brousse) and the best entertainment is just to watch the surrounding area and see how it changes and reflects the diversity of this country.
I will not miss the terrible exhaust that seems to be produced by any and every vehicule found in Madagascar. The cheapest fuel here is diesel, and so most of the cars, trucks, taxis/taxi be/taxi brousse have diesel engines that badly need some serious work. Virtual rain clouds are produced by these things and I'm seriously concerned that I may get lung cancer just by being forced to breath this stuff while walking in tana or riding in a car with it's windows open.

4- June 9th:
I will miss the light, clouds, and sunsets. The sky is amazingly vast and blue here nearly everyday, and I've never seen such beautiful clouds before or extraordinary sunsets. Literally everday, the sky and clouds would turn these amazing colors of red, pink, orange, gold, that one would be lucky to see once a year in America. I know you think I'm exaggerating, but I feel like I can't do justice to the beauty I've seen here, so I'll stop trying.
I won't miss Malagasy food. I love rice and eat it about twice a day now and I'm sure will eat it a lot more in the States. However, the Malagasy sauces (or loaka) that go with the rice are some of the most bland and boring things I've ever eaten, and usually with way too much salt. They also eat strange things like eel, turtle and even lemurs (though it's illegal), which I never tried and hopefully never will. Needless to say, I can't wait for some good Mexican food and my mom's cooking.

5- June 10th:
So, it's my last weekend in Tana, and my miss thing for today is quite appropriate. I will miss Malagasy music and dancing at clubs/family gatherings/in the car (okay, so that's just me, and I do that even in the States, but I'll still miss doing it to Malagasy music). As you've read on my blog, I have had many fun memories of trying to shake my booty Malagasy style. I'm still no good at it, but I'm bringing home music with which to practice with. Sadly though, it's not the same as the carefree and jovial atmosphere of live music at Glacier, or blasting it from my tiny speakers at parties at my apartment. It truly is one of my favorite things about Malagasy culture.
This part is getting harder, because there is much more that I will miss than what I won't. But I know I won't miss the difficulty of store hours. The majority of stores are open from 8:30 am - noon and 2:00 pm - 5:30 or 6pm. For someone who has a job and responsibilities, this time table poses many problems, and I can't tell you how many times, I've tried to go shopping during lunchtime or in the evening and the stores I want to go are closed. It's amazing they make any money really. I think I will be shocked to go to Target at 9 pm now, not to mention Meijering at 2 am (always Tabitha's idea).

6- June 11th:
I will miss bargaining. I've gotten to be quite an expert and I'm now used to bargaining in almost every situation that involves money. I'm often forced just to laugh at the high price and walk away, and then they will run after me, cutting the prices down enormously. Sometimes the guilt factor does get in the way though, because I know these people desperately need this money in order to eat, so I'm not completely stingy, and try to go to children or mother's with infants, when I'm shopping in the street. It will be very interesting shopping in the States now, and someone says "That'll be $20," and I'll probably naturally respond, "How about $10?"
I will not miss the bugs here. I've gotten better about it, and I'm pretty good at killing most of them now, but I'm still sick of it. Even sleeping with a mosquito net, I'm often woken up by the buzzing of a mosquito in my ear, and then I'm forced to find it and kill it, before I can get any rest. And don't even get me started on cockroaches or the spiders. I think the largest in the world probably exist here in Madagascar, and even though they are not poisonous or dangerous, they still scare the shit out of me.

7- June 12th:
It's Sunday here and I'll definitely miss the laziness of Sunday's here. Nothing is open, except a few restaurants. And so my tradition on Sunday was to sleep in, read my book, enjoy my apartment, and eat a good meal. I will definitely miss that, though it is true that I can do that (and have done that many times in the past) on Sunday's in the States. However, there is just something about the emptiness and calmness of the streets on Sundays, that makes me feel more relaxed and calm myself.
I won't miss the pollution here. I know I already discussed the exhaust, which truly is terrible, but on top of that people litter here more than anywhere else I've seen. People throw trash out of car windows everywhere in madagascar, and the effect is that trash is strewn everywhere and really takes away from the natural beauty of the country. It's particularly bad in Tana, and it makes life here seem more sad and depressing because of it.

8- June 13th:
I'll miss my Peace Corps friends that i've made here. Tabitha is a given and is more like family than a friend. But I've met other people here who are truly wonderful, most especially Roxy. They've formed my American community here, and though they are few, and I did not get to see them often, it was wonderful to have them here to commiserate with and share experiences. We have a certain bond now, because we understand what it is like to live here, and I'm looking forward to continuing those friendships in the future. Plus practicing my Malagasy, which is still at the level of a two-year old child... but I've improved enormously!!

And the last thing I will miss (at least that I can think of for now) are my plants. The flora here is extraordinary and I'm looking forward to continuing my research in grad school this Sept. I'm exceptionally lucky to have had the opportunity to work here, and I'm excited about doing my thesis on a Malagasy topic!!!

Now I have to stop, because I can't think of anymore things I'll miss (or won't miss) and I'm getting very busy packing, and won't have time to write before I leave. Wednesday, June 15th, I have to be at the airport by 10 pm, and my flight leaves at 1 am. Then it's a week in Paris (to do work), before finally making it back to the US, 9 months after I first left in September 2004. My experience in Madagascar has been life-changing and more profound than I could have ever imagined. I wish my powers of description were more accurate, so that you all would be able to understand what my life had been like for the past 9 months. However, at the very least, I hope that you've enjoyed reading my blog, and maybe even consider traveling here for your own adventures. In any case, I'm sure I'll come back to Madagascar to continue my adventures and I can't wait for my next installments!!!

Getting engaged Malagasy style

2005-05-31T09:36:00.000+03:00

No, I didn't get engaged, though scared you there for a second, right? I did go to an engagement "party" as it were. I guess that's the best word to explain it, but it really doesn't do it justice. My friend, Andry's, cousin was getting engaged, and since this is a very traditional and important part of Malagasy culture I was invited to come along and learn. And what a learning experience it was.

It started at 9:30 am with a meeting at Andry's cousin, Vahini, the girl's family's home. There were basic morning refreshments until everyone arrived and then they got down to business. The main room of the house had been transformed into a sort of meeting hall, with the room divided in half and chairs set up facing each other. All of Andry's family was there for the girl's side, and all of her intended fiance's family was there on the other side. Her fiance was sitting in a chair in between the two factions, and Vahini herself was not in the room, but actually hidden away somewhere. There was a "porte parole" or speaker for both sides, and the goal of this whole meeting was to negotiate this engagement. Girl children are very valuable to families, so it was the job of the boys family to prove his love for Vahini, how he will take care of her etc. The two sides go back and forth telling stories and using proverbs to explain their points. For this couple, it was mostly a formality since they had been dating for awhile, and both families were happy with the relationship. One of my favorite points however was when the boy's family used her name as a little play on words. Vahini means "guest", and they said that she wouldn't be the guest in their family, but the landlord. And everyone laughed at the cleverness.

However this is a tradition that is extremely important and followed by everyone. Apparently, a long time ago, and probably in some of the remoter villages still, this negotiation meant a lot more and other things were involved, like how many zebu (or cows, a major currency here) the boys family will give the girls family etc. Now, the boys family just brings the best meat of the cow, the rump, or ass if you will. I of course did not understand all of this meeting, but much was explained to me afterwards. At around 11am, after they were finally finished discussing and everyone was agreed, the boys family asked to see Vahini, like she was some special angel, and she appeared dressed beautifully to much applause. They gave flowers and the ring, and then we did the reception line to give our congratulations.

But wait, it's not over. Then, it was time to eat, dance and party. We went to this nice reception hall place, and I swear there were 8 courses of food, dancing throughout the whole thing, a huge cake, speeches, toasts. They had even received a car as a new gift. And this was just the engagement, the wedding will supposedly be even bigger. Also, the engagement party is traditionally paid for by the girl's side of the family, and the wedding is not only paid for by the groom (or his family) but the ceremony takes place at his church, and he even buys the wedding dress.

Throughout the whole thing, people kept asking me my opinion, and how it compares to America, and I didn't really know what to answer. I mean, we don't do anything at all close to this. Our tradition of take the girl out to a nice dinner or surprise her with something romantic, get down on one knee and give her a ring, seems to pale in comparison now. And after explaining it that way, people were like, "And?"... and then you annouce it to your family and start planning the wedding. I kept telling people that their party was on par with our wedding receptions, and that in comparison, getting engaged is not actually as big of a deal in America. I think they were slightly disappointed really. We finally left at 5:30pm and I have to admit that I was exhausted.

In other news, my lecture at the American Studies Conference went splendidly and I was really happy with it afterwards and got lots of questions. I think that there is such a lack of any discussion, images or really anything about homosexuality here that people are genuinely curious and want to understand. People even shared their own experiences after traveling in America and meeting gay and lesbian couples. I was really happy that I was able to share a little bit about this important, through controversial, aspect of our culture and that it was informative and interesting to the audience of Malagasy teachers and students of American culture.

So, I leave two weeks from tomorrow. Have I started packing? Nope. Have I started organizing? In my head, I have it all planned out. Have I started cleaning my apartment? Not even close, in fact, it's just getting dirtier. My mom thinks I'm in denial about leaving, and she may be right. But I've promised myself to appreciate Madagascar everyday until I leave. And I'm really going to try to take more pictures... really, I am!

Freezing!

2005-05-20T08:34:00.000+03:00

So it's been a long time since I posted and the reason is actually a good one: I leave 3 weeks from Wednesday and I have a lot to do until then. In fact, yesterday, I did not leave my apartment once, because I was too busy entering in data on my computer... sounds like the fascinating and exotic life you would expect in Madagascar, right? But, it is the life of a scientist, and I do get a sick pleasure out of it, particularly when I'm done and actually have some data to look at!
Anyway, I'm currently going through similar feelings I had in December, except the reverse. It's the end of May now and my brain is saying, "Sun, summer and fun!" except it's rather more like grey, windy and chilly here. I know, again you would not believe that the tropical country of Madagascar could get cold, but it does... well, it was a low of 50 last night and in an apt. with no heat and lots of glass windows and doors to an outside terrace, the chill enters pretty quickly. It feels more like early November than May to me.
The good news, however, is that I did get out of Tana one last time and made it to the east coast and the lovely city of Tamatave. It was great to actually wear a tank top and sandals again and feel warm. The taxi brousse only takes about 8 hours and I had friends from work who were also going with their kids for the long weekend (Pentecost here apparently). Tamatave reminds me of a small southern town that seems to have been forgotten by the rest of the world. It's actually a pretty large town for Madagascar, and it can get busy during rush hours etc, but at noon, it feels practically deserted because everyone is smart and taking naps to avoid the heat. Strange how Tana can be so cold and coastal cities are still the tropical places you would expect. Another example of the diversity of Madagascar I suppose. Anyway, the streets in Tamatave are in varying states of disrepair, from pretty well paved to once paved, now mostly gravel and large pot holes that become lakes when it rains. And it does rain...a lot and pretty hard and with absolutely no warning. So the weekend was a lot of, "Let's go for a walk on the beach" and then "quick, run for cover under that Terminalia tree so we don't get soaked!"... don't worry there was no lightening... I'm not that stupid. And, yes, I know the names of the trees, because I'm still the dorky botanist that will go up to a tree and examine the leaves very thoughtfully in order to determine what it is, without realizing that good friends could possibly be looking on and laughing hysterically! In any case, it was a fun weekend, of sleeping in, eating fattening, delicious pastries, taking pousse-pousse and swimming. Just what I needed before my last month here and don't worry, I did take pictures (including of the the pousse-pousse, and will post them eventually... I promise!)

Now, my time is occupied with finishing my project and preparing for my American Culture lecture which happens to be today. My topic is the representation of homosexuality in American cinema, and i'll be showing clips of films in order to best explain my points. I'm a little nervous given that this is a controversial topic in America, not to mention Madagascar, where homosexuality is not even discussed. But I've never been one to back down from a challenge (how about that for a cliche) and I think it's important to start discussing, no matter what your beliefs are. So, I'll keep you posted on how that goes.

I'll be back in the United States one month from today and I don't know what has happened to my time here... it just flew by. One year ago I had just graduated from Vassar College, and saying goodbye to some life-long friends, and as one of those friends recently put it in an e-mail, in some ways it feels like both a short time ago and a really long time ago. And as my excellent and very intelligent mother has said for years to my brother and I, "It's just a strange time, that year after college. You have to work through it." And it's true for me, coming to Madagascar was probably the strangest and most unique way for me to spend my year after college, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

Its May!

2005-05-02T11:56:00.000+03:00

Thank god! I really felt like April was the longest month ever, and here's why:

1. I kept having medical issues, when I actually had been really lucky up till now (from fainting and needing stitches, to getting food poisoning (or a parasite... who knows?), to getting a sinus infection, which I'm finally getting rid of!)
2. I didn't go anywhere. I stayed basically in Tana for the whole month of April, with maybe just a few short trips to Antsirabe. This meant that I got a lot of work done, and it actually was really beneficial in that way, because I will get a few more publications out of it, but it wasn't so good for my mental health.
3. It was my 7th month here in Madagascar (topping the record for longest I've been out of the US) and I had no departure date, so I felt there was no end in sight.

Now, we're in the 8th month of my grant and everything has changed really. I'm finally getting healthy, I have lots of satisfying work that I need to get done, I only have 5 weeks left here and there's still a lot of Madagascar that I want to see and experience. Plus, I have that American culture lecture to work on, PLUS Tabitha and Roxy are coming into town at the end of May, and it's always a party when they are here. The only sad thing is that it is finally winter here, which means that instead of being satisfyingly warm (sometimes way too hot) all day long, no matter where you are, there are fluctuations of warm and cold, so you never know what to wear, or when you'll be cold/hot. What's even worse is that it gets darker earlier, which is not only depressing but also limits general freedom, as things are not really open and it's not really safe to walk around alone when it's pitch black out at 6:30pm. However, the nice thing now is that I have more Malagasy friends, so I don't have to walk alone at night if I want to go out to dinner etc.

The funny thing now that's hard to explain is how normal I feel here. I'm so used to everything that nothing feels out of place and I even forget that I'm in a foreign country. For instance, there is a part of the road going from Tana to Antsirabe that seriously could be in Ohio... it's corn fields and then a Shell gas station. I mean, it seriously could be on the way to Miami University in Oxford! The strange thing is when I first saw it I was really confused by the rice paddies and mud huts surrounding this beaucolic mid-Western scene. Now, that feels completely normal to me and anything else would feel out of place. Rice paddies, mud huts, banana trees, children with no shoes, wearing rags, and apparently parentless running around... these are all now normal to me, and it's sometimes hard to remember a time when this wasn't the norm.

Despite becoming increasingly used to life here (I boast to my Malagasy friends that I'm "tsy misy vazaha, Malagasy be", meaning no long vazaha, very malagasy), I have prided myself on keeping up with life in the States. Any important news is either covered by newspapers or tv here, or my parents. Plus, I have wonderful friends who e-mail me frequently. So, I didn't really think that I would feel really out of it coming back to the States. I now realize that I've probably missed more culturally than I thought. In an effort to see what's been happening culturally, I thought to start with Hollywood, which seems to direct the path of American culture at the moment. To my shock and surprise, I found out that the 3rd (and final) Star Wars movie was opening in May. I seriously hadn't heard anything about here... nothing. I had no idea and didn't even think about it. I imagine that in the States previews have been playing non-stop on TV, action figures, t-shirts, video games, fast food promotions and pre-sold tickets... the whole deal. And in Madagascar, it's like Star Wars never existed! I'm now worried that more has changed than I realized and I'll get back to the States and a vanilla latte at Starbucks will cost $10 and the fashion of the early-90's with neon colors and Hammer pants will be back in style, and everyone will point and laugh at my dusty, travel-worn clothes from last season! So, that might be exaggerating, but the general idea is there. The subtle cultural changes that have occured over the past 7 months haven't made it into the newspapers or TV shows, or even news from my parents and friends. I can't help but wonder what I'll notice and what will seem so completely different and new to me when I'm back in the States, but completely normal and quotidien to everyone else around me. I'll have to keep writing once I'm back in order to share these emotions with all of you!

7 weeks from now...

2005-04-22T13:32:00.000+03:00

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!

Misadventures

2005-04-12T11:02:00.000+03:00

So I fainted. The first time ever in my life. It comes as a shock to me, as I'm not a woman of weak constitution who requires smelling salts. If I was, I would not have lasted long here in Madagascar. Anyway, on to the story, though I warn you, it gets a little graphic...

Well, it all begins with my friend Andry. He needed to get his tonsils out, and when he told me this I thought, "Oh no big deal... quick operation." But then I remembered that this is Madagascar and not the United States, so I asked him for more specifics. He then asked if I wanted to go with him, as I seemed so interested and he needed someone to take him back home after the operation. It was set for Friday morning, and I woke up late and did not have time to eat anything as I rushed off. We arrive at the doctor's house (no, not the hospital) and Andry has a bag full of stuff. I ask what it is, and to my surprise, I find a sheet, a towel, two syringes, vials of lidacaine, vials of alcohol, and even sterile gloves. In my shock, I exclaim, "Did you have to bring everything for the surgery?" Apparently, a stupid question, as the answer is obviously yes. The doctor then opens the door and we step inside a small office. I think to myself, "Oh, she must be doing the surgery in another room, and this is just a consultation." But no, she asks him to sit in the small wooden chair in the center of the room and to cover himself with the sheet. She then asks me if I have a strong constitution (you, of course, know the answer) and if I would like to help and hold his head. I thought why not... I've worked in the maternity ward of a hospital for a summer... this is nothing compared to that. But apparently I didn't think too clearly. I watched very closely as she (correctly) sterilized all her instruments etc and then prepared to inject the lidacaine into his throat. This is where I start to have second thoughts and feel a little light headed, but I keep holding onto his head. She starts injecting the lidacaine, I close my eyes, and the next thing I know, I'm on the floor, very confused with the doctor standing over me. She hurriedly takes me outside to lie on the bench and then goes back to finish the operation (which, given from the sounds I heard, I'm glad I did not see). Apparently, the operation went very well and quickly and there were no problems after I fainted. Luckily I fainted before she actually started the surgery... it would have been bad news otherwise. Anyway, it turns out I cut my head when I fell, and the doctor put in a few stitches right away. I'm fine now, though a little embarrassed and frankly shocked. I still maintain that I am no fainter! Andry has healed well and is now back at work... so, though the details of the operation are vastly different from what I expected, the outcome is the same, and all is well for medicine in Madagascar.

In other news, I have a departure date!! I leave Madagascar on June 16th, stay in Paris for a week, and return to my beloved home on June 24th. Needless to say my parents are thrilled with this information. I also am happy to know when I'm leaving, as I was starting to feel like I would never leave. But now, my time here feels like a countdown and I have a lot to do before I leave, and a lot I haven't seen yet. In any case, I'll keep you posted on my adventures, feelings, and hopefully no more fainting spells, as the countdown to departure begins... 65 days and counting!!

Fulfilling Requests....

2005-04-07T09:35:00.000+03:00

So, if you are keeping up with not only reading my blog entries, but also reading the comments, you will have noticed a particularly clever, witty comment by my brother (abv) on my last entry. He can be impatient once he has requested something, so I must fulfill his request.

As I'm sure all of you know, the Pope died last weekend. Madagascar is a highly religious country and I think nearly over a third of the population are Catholic. However, unfortunately, none of my friends or colleagues are Catholics here, so I can only speak of the reactions to the Pope's death from what I've observed. The biggest difference I've noticed for the past week is the increased interest and coverage of international activities. I actually know what is going on in the world for a change, at least for what concerns the Pope and his funeral. Normally, Madagascar and the Malagasy have too much going on in their own country to pay attention to what is going on in the world at large (there have been a recent string of kidnappings, resulting in the prohibition for me to travel alone, which I rarely do anyway, so don't worry, I'm safe. Plus all the kidnappings have been of Malagasy... a vazaha is too much risk). But the newspapers and tv journalists have correctly realized the importance of the Pope's death and have given it due coverage and notice (though nothing like what it's been in the States from what I've heard). More interestingly, the Pope came here in 1988 and they have been replaying his visit here several times on the news. My favorite clip is of him standing up in the back of a pickup truck to wave to all the people... no Pope-mobile in Madagascar. He gave a massive mass in a city up north (Antsiranana or Diego-Suarez) and apparently they had taxi brousses going around the clock in order to bring everyone who wanted to go to the service.
This week has been a week of mourning for the Catholics in the country with services held everyday and the church bells ringing more often. Apparently there will be mass on Friday for the funeral, but I haven't heard of anything more special than that. Sorry that I can't give anymore info, but in general, I get the feeling that the Pope's death is not as all-encompassing as it is in Rome or Poland. No all night vigils here, no mass gatherings anywhere that I've noticed. People mourn him of course, but I suspect, more in their own, personal way.

Now onto another request from my Grandmother who is always the most curious into specifics of everyday life here. Her latest question was about schools here in Madagascar. Education here follows the French system, which is very similar to the American system except, middle school is 3 years and high school is 3 years, and then there is the bac of course, which isn't always passed the first time around. What is more interesting is how the level of education varies around the country. In Tana, there are many schools, both private and public, with the French private school being the most lucrative and expensive, but there are also more reasonable Catholic private schools as well. Most of my friends and colleagues here went to private Catholic school until university. However, outside the high plateau area, education is a lot more difficult. In every sizable village there is an elementary school, and kids from surrounding farms walk to school everyday. This is there only option and I'm under the impression that these schools usually have only one teacher. Then larger towns have both the middle school and high school and kids from surrounding villages will walk to these towns everyday (sometimes it takes them 2 hours). These larger towns have more teachers and can request an education Peace Corps volunteer (like Tabitha) to help them teach English. What's even more difficult is the price of education... not much for Americans, but in these villages, it is a real privilege to be educated. Tabitha has some 17 and 18 year olds in her equivalent of 8th grade classes, because their families couldn't afford to send them to school till later. Universities are only in the much larger towns, and the university in Antananarivo is considered the best. From what I can gather, there are a few private universities that are very specialized, but all the rich Malagasy go to school abroad in La Reunion or France, VERY rarely the US. The public university here in Tana has more students than it can handle and not enough professors, but this is where all my friends have gotten their education. Again, the university system follows that of the French: two beginner years (DEUG), a final more advanced year (Licence) and then specialized degrees (Maitrise and DEA, equivalents to a master's degree). All the botanists at MBG now have their DEA, though for many it took many years to do this. (Ex: my assistant, Mirana, received her DEA in botany last year at the age of 27; my friend Lalao got hers at 35). From my knowledge, a Ph.D. is difficult to do here and rarely achieved in country, much more often abroad. Also, Ph.D's do not seem as necessary here as they are in the States, so people don't bother to get them. A DEA is already a high degree and very respected here
The large difference in quality of education between the high plateau and coastal areas has added to the prejudice still felt between these two groups... the people of the high plateau look down on people from the coast, and the people from the coast distrust those from the high plateau. It doesn't help that people from the high plateau have lighter skin than those from the coasts... racism seems to persist everywhere it seems.

So, that's my quick entry for today. I hope both my brother and grandma are happy, particularly since it's my grandma's birthday!!

Adventures indeed...

2005-04-05T11:29:00.000+03:00

Adventures indeed
Originally uploaded by laurabvary.

So, second installment of the new tourist adventures of Laura. So, review: Thursday was Ambohimanga (no pictures, sad..)

Friday, I wasn't necessarily a tourist, but I did hold a very typical American barbecue on my terrace for my friends at work. We had beef kabobs and bbq chicken, salad, jelly beans (for Easter), and lots of drinking, dancing and fun. After my party, the partying wasn't over and a group of us went dancing at an event for students from the north of the island. I was the only vazaha there, but I had a blast and learned how to shake my booty Malagasy style from several very energetic Malagasy girls... it was blast (but alas, again no pictures!)...

Saturday, I left for Ft. Dauphin with my friend Andry for Easter weekend. We had both Monday and Tuesday off, so it was the perfect weekend to get out of Tana. Ft. Dauphin is on the very south eastern tip of the island and a very tourist town. Their are whales at a certain time of year (not now unfortunately) and lots of cool interesting forest, with lemurs!! We stayed at a hotel on the Libanona beach, which is a small beach set in a cove (finally, some pictures!!). Saturday we just explored the town, had delicious shrimp for dinner and found the best ice cream in town (probably the only, but still delicious).

Sunday was Easter, and I decided to see what church was like here and so I accompanied Andry to the services by his church (basically protestant from what I can gather). This church was what I thought Madagascar would be like. I didn't take any pictures out of respect, but I'll do my best to describe. It was a small wooden building, built on top of a small hill, with an amazing view of the town and sea. The building itself had flaky white paint on the outside, and inside entirely unpainted wooden benches, rafters, etc, except for the sermon area, which was also flaky white, and had florescent lights to make up the cross. There were two ceiling fans (which seemed to not work) and the only other relief from the oppressive heat were the occasional sea breeze from the windows. I understood very little of the sermon, which was entirely in Malagasy, but it gave me time to observe my surroundings and enjoy hearing the kids play just outside the church, which got louder as the kids got more restless inside and went out to join the fun. Inside everyone had to bring their own bible and song book, which we didn't have, but people were nice enough to share. Communion was not given to everyone, and Andry explained that only those who have gone through a certain training take communion. I did enjoy singing in Malagasy though, as my reading comprehension and pronunciation are getting much better. After the sermon (which lasted 2 and half hours!!) we had a nice seafood lunch again and then decided to go to the beach. And the way back to the hotel, we saw the most amazing, huge sting ray (check out the pictures on my site!) By the time we got back to the hotel and ready, it was rather late, so I just put on my black sundress and was expecting a nice walk on the beach. Lo and behold the moment we get there, we are accosted by women trying to sell things. Being a vazaha just attracts them like flies. We didn't bring any money with us, but they did let us take pictures which was nice of them. But we eventually got annoyed and started to walk to the edge of the cove on the beach. Andry then discovered a path and had the great idea to follow it. This path lead around the bend of the cove and onto another beach. However, I was just wearing flimsy, flip-flops, a linen sundress, the rocks were slippery and the tide was coming in. None of this bothered Andry and I was forced to follow him or risk getting lossed on my way back to the hotel. The path did eventually make it to the other beach, but I got sufficiently wet in the process. After taking some pictures and enjoying the sunset, we climbed up the steep slope to get back up to the road and find the way back to our hotel. As we pass a few houses, we hear loud Malagasy music and lots of laughter. We stop to investigate and some children run out of the house, and Andry asks if we can come in and join them. It turned out to be a girl's 1st communion and they were having a large party. They of course invited us in, and as Andry spoke to them all in Malagasy, I tasted some of the best rum in my life and learned to shake my booty some more by some 10 yr old girls. It was a lot of fun and we stayed for about an hour drinking and dancing, but eventually we felt we intruded enough and promised to send them some pictures of the evening. As we leave, it starts to rain and we get kinda of lost on the road and end up having to climb down a sandy hill to make it back to the hotel. But it was worth it to dance and laugh with such kind strangers.

Monday, was Easter Monday, and it's a tradition here that everyone goes on a picnic. And I mean everyone... even if you have to walk all morning, just to sit under some tree to eat, and then walk all afternoon back home... it is worth it to have a meal outside of your town. We saw several huge trucks filled with people to take them out of town. It unfortunately reminded me of the kind of scenes of refugees you see on CNN. Everyone was scrambling to get on the trucks, babies were getting handed around... it was quite a sight to see. We asked our hotel if there were any excursions planned for the guests and he said that there was room in the owner's car as he and some friends of his were going to Andohahela, a national park near town. The owner turned out to be an American working for WWF and his wife was from Ghana (they met when he was doing the Peace Corps there). His friends were an English family who have been in Madagascar for fifteen years and another couple, American man, Indian woman, both working for the World Bank just under a year here in Madagascar, plus all their children. It was quite the trip, requiring two cars and many stops on the way there to pick up local fruit etc. The first road we tried into the park turned out not to work due to a bridge that had collapsed under the heavy rains they had had the week before. The second road we tried got us a good way into the park before we reached a part where the road was washed out by a river. We decided we should picnic here, under some baobabs. The children ate quickly and decided to go for a swim, while all the men went to go check on one of the cars that got stuck in the mud. Apparently, it was so stuck they needed more men, so they struck out for the minimun security penal colony that was just down the road to ask for help. Once the kids had their fill of the river and we had all sunbathed enough, we decided to check on the status of the car that they eventually got out of the mud. We then thought to return to Ft. Dauphin with all normal speed... alas, it was not to be. First one car would get stuck, then the second car. This picture is of just one of those times, where I was seriously concerned we were not going to get the car out after half an hour had passed and we all we had managed was to get the car deeper in mud. Luckily one of the cars we had was a pickup truck, so we carried four guys from the penal colony in back until we got out of the park and onto paved road before. I lost count of the times i had to help push a car out of the mud and I sincerely felt I was on a mission to the field instead of a lovely picnic in a national park... that's Madagascar for you!

Tuesday we got back to Tana safe and sound and started work the next day. The weekend was a success in my mind, and I promised myself to try more touristic things more often. I've loaded up some other pictures from this vacation as well as some from Maintirano too. Hope you enjoy them!!

The King of the dogs who never gets sick

2005-03-31T15:56:00.000+03:00

So, funny title, huh? Well, don't worry, there's an explanation. I've recently been feeling a little homesick and my daily life in Tana is starting to feel a little mundane. I wake up, look at dried plants, try to learn some more Malagasy from my friends and colleagues, eat something, probably read my book or watch a movie and then sleep. It doesn't change much. Granted, I can't complain because I end up having pretty amazing adventures and let's face it, I'm in Madagascar, but still, it's like living anywhere after awhile. So, my aunt Linda gave me some excellent advice and she knows what she's talking about, after living in Taiwan last year for six months and advising her college students abroad for years. So I took her advice and decided to become a tourist again... (gasp, shudder). But seriously, it was worth it because I feel rejeuvanted. Here is my first installment of my adventures as Laura, the American, botanical tourist...

So my first day as a tourist actually happened by accident. I had a very serious and interesting botany discussion with my colleagues and they showed me a fascinating plant they had found that just happened to be in full flower. It turns out this plant (that has a cool sexual system called andromonoecy for those of you interested) grows in a small piece of forest about an hour from Tana. So, I talked to my assistant and we planned a nice outing last Thursday. I was greatly looking forward to getting out of Tana, even if it was for only a day, and I resigned myself to taking the taxi brousse (not my favorite thing), but for such a short distance, it's only 2,500 FMG (or $0.25), so worth it. Thursday turned out to be a beautiful, though hot day and as we were riding on the taxi brousse, I learned something about where we are going.

This piece of forest I wanted to see was on a hill called Ambohimanga, which is actually quite historical and the location of the first real king of the Merina people (the major tribe around Tana). So Malagasy history and language lesson #24: In 1794 (before French colonization), Andrianamboatsimarofy (or the king of the dogs who never gets sick) and the reigning king of Tana attacked the "city" of Ambohimanga, which was ruled by the king of the heart of the Merina people (or Andrianampoinimerina). Well, it turns out that the Merina king was stronger and he destroyed the never getting sick dog king and became not only the king of the heart of the Merina people, but also the king of Tana, thus creating a new royal Merina dynasty that lasted in Tana until the French came in 1895. The last Merina queen was something, but I'll save those stories for another time. Anyway, I have a whole theory that this piece of history is completely to blame on names. Being the king of the heart of the Merina people is way better than being the king of the dogs who never gets sick. Do you think it was the dogs who never got sick or the king? It's really quite an unusual name.

Lesson over and continuing with my story... we arrive at Ambohimanga and I follow the directions of my colleagues to find the population of these plants. It's a beautiful day and because we're on a hill all the rice paddies and farming villages on the outskirts of Tana are spread out below us. We find the population easily and set to work. By work I mean counting flowers of different sexes for 5 different individuals... quite tedious work actually. Also, since we weren't really at the tourist part, but on the road going around the forest, the children of the area were surprised to see a vazaha. Now, I think Malagasy children have to be most curious and patient children I've ever seen. There we were trying to count our flowers and making notes with an audience of 7-15 children, depending on who was passing by. One girl just kept staring at my notes and then kept asking my name and how old I was. Thankfully, my assistant scolded them for being rude, so instead of talking to us, they just watched. Seriously, nothing was more interesting to them then us counting these flowers. And it was extremely distracting to have these children just staring at you and then laughing and whispering to each other. I've never experienced anything like it before... like I was some foreign, exotic animal at the zoo. Finally, their stomachs were growling loud enough for them to go home and eat lunch, and we could finally eat too (as I've already learned from the streets of Tana, eating in front of children is a bad idea, because they will ask you for the food, and look so pathetic it's hard to refuse). Not as many kids came back after lunch, and since we just kept doing the same thing, they quickly left. We finally finished counting at 2 pm and I decided to take some pictures and be the tourist I truly am at heart. However, being as stupid as I am, I forgot to check the batteries, and of course, I had no extras with me... so , no pictures of Ambohimanga this time. BUT, I loved it there so much, I'm determined to go back and be a real tourist, complete with touring the castle of the King of the heart of the Merina people and taking pictures of the village and the children (if they'll let me). So, don't worry, you'll see those pictures eventually.

AND, I'm determined for my next installment to have uploaded some new pictures to my website. Be prepared for more adventures, stories and pictures of my Easter vacation trip to Ft. Dauphin... I'm preparing you now, it involves mud!

Winter in Madagascar?

2005-03-22T15:08:00.000+03:00

I know, it sounds like an oxymoron, right? And all these past six months you’ve read about how hot it is, and the eternal summer of Madagascar, that tropical island off the coast of Africa. Well, that part is true, but apparently as you start to experience warmer weather there in the Northern Hemisphere, things are getting cooler here. And I’ve had some funny conversations as to what actually constitutes winter here in Madagascar.
First of all, the coldest it’s ever gotten in Madagascar is maybe 45 degrees, and I think I’ve heard mention of a frost in a town high up in elevation, but I don’t know if I believe it. The landscape of Madagascar is such that the high plateaux area (or the center of the island and where Tana is located) experiences cooler temperatures and less rain starting about the month of April, and this is what they call winter.
I’ve done my best not to laugh. The other day someone mentioned to me that now we are in the “saison du froid” and I must prepare myself. I was wearing sandals, jeans and a light-weight button-up shirt and I was hot. I just stared at this guy and said “Ca, c’est le froid?” Apparently, yes. I’ve tried to tell stories of winter back home. Wearing warm socks, good shoes, thick pants, several layers on top, coat, gloves, hat, scarf and still every time you go outside you feel like you are going to die from the cold. Well, that’s how I remember it at least. But they just laugh at these stories as impossible and look at me like I’m telling ghost stories to scare them. The idea of snow, at all, or ice, is just unreal to them, even though they know very well that it exists. So for now, they just think I’m the crazy vazaha that will complain it’s cold just like the rest of them, once the saison du froid actually starts.
And maybe they’re right. True, Madagascar has never seen snow, but for a developing country where it’s normally an eternal summer with sweltering heat, 50 degrees can seem frighteningly cold. Plus, central heating here means finding wood and building a fire. That doesn’t work too well in a shack made of wood and palm fronds that’s built to stay cool (or a Tana apartment on the 7th floor for that matter). Moreover, Tabitha has complained of her time here last June, and said she never really got warm, because there is no heat anywhere. That particularly worries me, because she’s an Ohio girl and knows what winter’s truly about. So here I am, going back and forth between laughing at the Malagasy notion of winter, and panicking that I have no warm clothes and I’m going to freeze. I think it will meet somewhere in the middle and of course there will be days when I’m cold, but I’ll just remember walking back from the Vassar library late at night in February and feeling like my nose was a leaky faucet, but I couldn’t actually feel my nose, and trying not to slip on the icy sidewalks (there were several close calls) and just looking forward to a cup of tea and American TV at home.
Okay, so the mention of TV is just my own recent longing for TV shows in English… really, that’s my only requirement now… they don’t even have to be good. I saw the BBC on TV and was shocked to find English being spoken on TV… I’m so used to French or even Malagasy now, that English sounded foreign to me. This is just one of many signs that I’m no longer American. The worst one… I forgot St. Patrick’s Day. I must have written March 17th several times and I never realized it. And what’s even worse, I love St. Patrick’s Day… green is my favorite color and what could be more American then using a holiday to celebrate Irish-Americans as an excuse to start drinking at 8 am. Plus, I think I have some Irish blood somewhere in my heritage! It’s really a sad story, isn’t it? Okay, so enough of being over-dramatic… I’ll keep you posted on how I deal with “winter” here and I promise to try not to forget anymore major American holidays. As for religious holidays, those are ever present here in Madagascar, and there are church services (signaled by church bells in my neighborhood) all this week for Easter. As for me, I'm celebrating Easter in Ft. Dauphin (a town on the south-eastern tip of Madagascar) and I promise to post pictures soon... really, I do!

The Simple Life?

2005-03-12T15:29:00.001+03:00

So I just got back from Maintirano, where my good friend Tabitha is a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) teaching English. Now life as a PCV is not easy, and I never really thought it was, but after this visit, I have new respect for Tabitha's daily life (and a little jealousy?)...

To get to Maintirano I had to get up early at 5:30 AM, to get to the airport in time for my 7:30 flight. My plane reminded my of a typical taxi brousse but for the air. It was a twin otter with about 21 seats. But the seats are uncomfortable bench seats made from rusty metal and thin foam... in general the whole thing doesn't give you much confidence, much like the regular taxi brousses. But there are way more car accidents than plane accidents here, so I took my chances. Any unused seat (and any room in the cargo bay?) is promptly filled up with whatever needs to be flown out (bags of vegetables, live animals, you name it)... security? Well, they barely looked at my ticket, and they keep the x-ray machines for the major international flights... no FAA or Homeland Security here, folks! I had a quick layover in Mahajanga and landed in Maintirano at 10:00 AM or so to meet a sweating, but glowing Tabitha with her bike. I was going to ride on the back, like I did when I was a kid, but my baggage unbalanced us, so we caught a ride with a departing pickup truck. The town is only a two minute ride from the airport, but it can seem like 15 in the early morning heat.

My overwhelming memory from this trip will be the heat. It's the hottest I've ever been and there is no reprieve, even at night. I've never been soaked in my own sweat for an entire day before and it's quite an experience. Tabitha said she just gets used to it and there are a few things to do during the day to help:

- sit in front of her fan, reading newly arrived (months old) People magazines (I now know all about the Jen and Brad breakup, thanks to our ever thoughtful and helpful People magazine)... but this option only works when the power is working, and gets boring and old after a few hours

- get milkshakes (really just milk, ice and sugar blended together), which are the coldest drinks you can find in town (sorry, no ice cream) or half frozen yogurt from ladies at the market... both just cost 1,000 FMG or close to 10 cents.

-come up with really delicious meal ideas with her site mate, Michaela... (okay, so not actually cooling, but distracting, and delicious)

So during my three day trip, these were our daily activities, except one trip to the beach (where I succeeded in getting slightly sunburned, despite the loads of sunscreen applied... the sun is just different here) and another trip to drink madrosoa (i think it's spelled right) which is the water inside the coconut. I have fun pictures of this and will post them as soon as possible.

Tabitha and Michaela live a hard life. They teach a lot of different English courses and they really work hard to help these kids succeed (I have pictures of the school areas and rooms as well). I went to two of Tabbie's adult classes in the evening and she is a really talented teacher with lots of enthusiasm... I know she picked the right profession. Their food always depends on the market, which depends on the season and what is brought in by plane and boat (there are really no roads to Maintirano). The market is an amazing place at the center of town where everything available in town is sold (Tabitha was elated when they had apples!). There are a few small grocery stores in town where you can buy more expensive items like cheese and boxed juice. Yet despite this dependence, they create magnificent meals on typical malagasy charcoal stoves, which resemble enlarged tin cans with a metal salad bowl on top. We had really delicious coconut, curry rice and philly, steak and cheese sandwiches with hotdogs... so maybe not a typical meal, but after all the work and heat, it was delicious! So I brought the bread and hot dogs from Tana, but still pretty impressive I think, given what you have to go through to get the ingredients.

One picture I wish I had taken was of Tabitha making coconut milk. She was a master and I was just amazed. She had no problem splitting the coconut, scraping it out on this special blade and then using a strainer and water to create the milk. When I first saw it, I was floored, but she did it in all of 10 min. and it did make excellent rice. I tried to do it on my own once I got back in Tana, but I didn't have the special blade and ended up taking chunks of skin out of my thumb with the grater I was using... oh well, guess I can't recreate province magic in the capital.

So, as hard and hot as Maintirano is, I just reveled in how laid back it is. Yes, it's hard, but that's expected and you take it in stride. Plus it just makes the little things that much more special... like the cooling breeze you get while riding a bike or drinking coconut juice in the middle of the forest. For some odd reason, I felt like I was a kid again... riding a bike around, not having to rush to be some place, and just enjoying time with friends. All in all it was a lovely time spent with Tabitha and it was great to see how she lived.

Getting home was another matter. Since I made last minute plans, I wasn't actually able to get a flight back all the way to Tana. My flight landed at Tsiromandidy (about 4 hours west of Tana) and I planned to take a taxi brousse the rest of the way to Tana. Tabitha has done this several times, so I didn't worry. The plane lands in the grassy field that marks all airports here and several pousse-pousse, the human pulled cart, are waiting for us (mostly me). They ask a ridiculous price, so I walk instead and find a cheaper pousse-pousse (there are no taxis here) close to town to take me to the taxi brousse "station", more like cleared area with barely enough room for any cars, but that qualifies as a station here. So, I'm riding through town, and everyone stops what they are doing to look at the vazaha. Something I'm somewhat used to, but it's still unnerving. Then I get to the "station" except I don't even realize it, because there aren't any taxi brousses. This is where the panic starts. Then I start asking the few men just hanging out in the shade in a mixture of my terrible Malagasy and French, and they all tell me that there will be no more taxi brousse until tomorrow morning. SO, I really start freaking out and I throw a small fit and draw a small crowd, mostly filled with children who want to stare at the funny, upset vazaha. The fit doesn't help produce a taxi brousse, but it does produce a sketchy man who wanted to take me in his car for $35 (about 10 times the normal price of a taxi brousse, not to mention how stupid that would be), so I just laughed at him and his high price and walked away from the now much larger crowd. I'm trying to hold back tears, wondering what I will be able to do, because there is no hotel here and I don't know a soul. But after I've walked a fair distance away, a driver of a taxi brousse approaches me and proposes taking me to the next closest town with taxi brousses to Tana for only $7.50... much more reasonable a price, plus a legit taxi brousse with a legit driver. So we left right away, picking up many Malagasy on the way, who got a free ride because of the vazaha, but I was just glad to get out of the town. On our way to this other town, we're stopped by the police and they tell us, among many things, that the last txi brousse for Tana will leave the town we're going to at 5pm... so in other words, we had to haul ass to get there, or I would risk getting stranded in another strange town, yet again. As we pull into town just a few minutes past 5, we see the last taxi brousse leaving town, maybe only 200 ft in front of us. My driver beeps his horn and waves down the other driver and I jump out of one taxi brousse and run and jump into this next one. Thank god there was room and that we weren't late getting to that town. All in all, I got into Tana only an hour later than I thought I would and despite several panicky moments, it all worked out. That's Madagascar for you!

Hope you enjoyed my stories and happy birthday to my mama, who apparently keeps getting older, but she always stays the same age for me!

The Simple Life?

2005-03-12T15:29:00.000+03:00

When it rains, it pours...

2005-02-22T13:41:00.000+03:00

Literally. I have never seen so much rain in my entire life, and I truly wish I was exagerating, but that's what I get for doing field work during a cyclone. But I must start at the beginning of my story (and of course don't be alarmed, because I'm back in Tana, safe and sound).
So, what did I do this past weekend? I went on my third trip to the field to a forest called Mahabo, only an hour away from the large town, Farafangana, which is north of Ft. Dauphin, the very south-eastern point of Madagascar (this will help people who have maps, those who don't go to this site: http://travel.yahoo.com/p-travelguide-577730-map_of_madagascar-i)
It was me and three other Malagasy: Mirana, my new assistant, Rundra (probably spelled it wrong), but a fellow botanist to help us, and Andry, our driver. It was a new experience for me, because I organized and financed this trip and I was curious how it was going to turn out. I had lately been missing the field and feeling like I needed to get some work done in the field for my project. It also turned out that my Peace Corps friend, Roxy's birthday was on Friday and she just happens to live in Farafangana. So everything coincided nicely, and I felt I had a fool proof plan to see a close friend and get some work done.
The drive down is quite lovely, though very long, and the road curves frequently and sometimes barely paved. For the first nine hours or so, it's rice paddies and rolling hills, which are beautiful in their own right, but as I'm quite used to seeing them now, I was more impressed by the newer landscapes I saw. Then you go by the beautiful forest of Ranomafana (near Fianaratsoa) that truly made me feel on a tropical adventure in Africa on par with Jane Goodall, with the winding road through mountainous rainforest, where you could just imagine gorillas living (but only lemurs and leeches, among other things to be found here), but unfortunately we couldn't stop there. Then you cross into the coastal area, which is much poorer and the landscape has been entirely deforested so rather a depressing site to see. Most of the hills are denuded of trees except for the Ravinala tree, whose large, banana-like leaves get torn in the wind, and are not very interesting to look at. We reached the coast at Manakara, which actually had a fair amount of flooding from the tsunami, and damage from that could still be seen around town, though nothing compared to the other side of the Indian Ocean. We reached Farafangana on Friday afternoon around 4 pm (we stayed the night Thursday at a town south of Antsirabe) and it was wonderful to see Roxy. The funniest thing is that even though Farafangana is a rather sizable town, everyone knows Roxy, which is attributable to both her being a vazaha and a rather determined English teacher... I was actually greeted once with a hello from a little boy, quite a surprising occurrence and much to Roxy's credit. We only had to ask the first person we met for directions to her house. As Peace Corps Volunteers (PCV) go, Roxy actually has quite a comfortable house. There are two rooms, a kitchen and bedroom, and then she even has a flushable toilet and running water for a shower, plus she has electricity all day long. Though this all sounds banal to us, it's quite posh for a PCV. Plus, her house is right on the beach and the view is beautiful. Friday night we had a nice dinner at the Hotel Cocotier, the vazaha place in town, where a delicious steak costs $2 (remember that's a lot of money here). We decided to pitch tents in Roxy's backyard, and since the rain hadn't started yet, we thought we'd be fine. During the middle of the night, the rain started coming down, but luckily we had strong tents, and stayed dry.
The alarm was set for 5 AM for Saturday morning, and as many of you know, an hour I detest seeing, because it should be reserved for sleep, but life is different when in the field. We set off for Mahabo by 6, hoping that the rain would stop, and hungry because nothing was open. The commune of Mahabo is actually an interesting place to work, because MBG has been doing a conservation project there for the past two years. They work with the community to protect the forest and only cut certain trees, and are replanting in most of the degraded areas, plus they worked at promoting other income generating activities like basket weaving etc. The town is quite small, but has a market on Saturdays, so as we were driving out there, we saw people walking on there way with the things they wanted to sell. To protect themselves from the rain some people had umbrellas, but mostly they used large banana leaves to cover themselves, which is actually a strange site to see on the road. What was even stranger was to see all of these women who looked to have humps on their backs... once I got a closer look I realized they were carrying small children on their backs, holding them with the ubiquitous cloth here, the lamba, much like a sarong, which is used for everything imaginable from skirts, dresses, cloaks, to baby carriers. I'm still often incredulous when I see these women with a lamba tied around their back, holding a small infant, to a child of 2 years old, plus carrying things on their heads or in their hands. It still makes me nervous to see, and I refuse to try it myself in fear of letting the child fall. On the road to Mahabo, it was particularly remarkable how many women were carrying children on their backs, nearly half of all that I saw. It is quite an amazing site to see women walking towards you with a large basket of bananas on their head and then to suddenly see a tiny face peek out from behind their back. At the market they sell whatever they can or what's in season at the time, from rice to bananas to baskets. Compared to Tana, it is quite a pitiable site, but apparently it is one of the better markets in the area.
Once we got to Mahabo, we had to find our guides, pay the entry to the forest at the mayor's "office" ($5, to valorize the forest to the community) and find something to eat for breakfast... inevitably rice and then some fish thing, which I didn't eat, because I still cannot eat meat like that in the morning, plus a type of fried bread, mofo, which is quite delicious. We didn't start our walk to the forest till 8 am, and it's an hour walk to the real part of the forest. As we leave the town, the rain isn't too bad, and I'm determined to try to stay as dry as possible, particularly my feet, because I detest having wet feet in heavy hiking shoes for a whole day. Well, that plan had to be quickly abandoned because the rain started to come down shortly after that, and as I had to protect my backpack with my raincoat, I couldn't zip it up. By 10:30, I was soaked through, but my feet were still dry and we were finding some good plants, even though we hadn't gotten to the forest yet. Suddenly we reach a marshy area and on the other side I can see a lovely forest that I would enjoy collecting in. The guides then tell us we must cross the marsh, which I don't really want to do, but it would surprise you the lengths I'd go for plants. My feet were then promptly submerged in water, as well as my legs up to my thighs. If you can picture the scene in Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers where Frodo, Sam and Gollum are in the Dead Marshes, then you would have a good idea of what the landscape looked like, but without the dead people and scary Nazgul (excuse the reference, but it was the best I could do, plus it was just on tv here, so fresh on my mind). I desperately wanted to take a picture to share with you all, but didn't risk getting my camera wet. We worked in the forest for the rest of the afternoon in the pouring down rain and got back to Mahabo around 4:30, soaked, cold and sore, but satisfied with our day of collecting.
As a treat to all of us and given the rain, I decided to get a room a Cocotier ($10 a night!) for all of us and have a hot shower to wash of the day. We met Roxy for dinner and we all exclaimed how we had never seen so much rain, and that it couldn't possibly rain any harder. There was talk of a cyclone coming in, but it wasn't confirmed, and everyone thought, or rather hoped, it would stop tomorrow. It was Roxy's official birthday dinner party, and it was a wonderful night with four Americans (me, Roxy, and two environmental PCV's who actually live in Mahabo), four Malagasy (my team and a friend of Roxy's) and then a young French couple, that came to teach French at the private Catholic school in Farafangana. We laughed a lot about our different cultures, and it was wonderful to hear three different languages among the conversations, and all of us understanding each other and getting along very well. We recounted our day to everybody and the French couple were so intrigued that they asked to come along the next day. I was hesitant given the rain, and I told them how difficult and somewhat boring it could be for non-botanists, but they insisted. So we set the pick-up time for 6:45 am, and they all departed for the nightclub in town that's only open on Saturday nights, while the rest of my team and I gratefully went to bed.
We woke up again at 5 am to more rain and sore muscles, but as it was our last day in the field, we rallied our spirits. We were invited to the home of the head of the Forest and Water office in Farafangana for breakfast the next morning, and I had the best omelette of my life, with rice. He planned to come with us that day, and I was quite touched by his hospitality to us. We set off around 7 am, and found the French couple ready for a day in the field. We got to Mahabo, picked up our guides and left for the forest again around 8. This time, the rain started earlier and harder. I felt bad for the French couple, but fortunately they came prepared. We took a different route to the forest this time and got to the water crossing earlier than the day before, but given all the rain that had fallen, it was impassable, so we set off for a different crossing. This one too was too dangerous to cross, and we set off for the final possibility around 9:30, not having collected any plants so far, and completely soaked to the bone. We find the third crossing and it appears passable at first so we get submerged in waist high water and go maybe a third of the way. We then get to an obviously deeper spot with a strong current, and one of our guides finds a log to use and tries to cross. Just as he is about to reach the end of it, he slips on the log and almost gets carried away by the current. At this point, I'm feeling very nervous about how hard it's raining and how fast the water could rise on us. It was easy to see that a few more hours of this type of rain would trap us in the forest, with no way to get back. With the addition of the French couple and my own team to worry about, I thought the risk was definitely not worth the few hours we'd be able to spend in the forest. So we all decided it was best to work as much as we could in the degraded part of the forest that we could access. We were able to find some interesting plants in flower, but I felt bad for the French couple, who weren't that interested in plants, and the continual rain. Fortunately, we came upon two small mouse lemurs (my first in the wild!) that saved the day from being a complete failure to all of us. And they were so adorable that our spirite were tolerably lifted until lunch. We ate a miserable lunch of soggy bread, sardines and gross, processed cheese at 11, and around noon, we were all so wet, dejected and tired that we decided to head back, which took much longer than we thought. Once we got to the road, we still had another half-hour walk to Mahabo to find the car, and the French couple and I walked much faster than the rest of the team. After getting out of the forest and marshes, we thought we'd be somewhat safer from the rain, but just when you can't imagine being any wetter or it raining any harder, it does. We managed to get to one of our guides houses just before it really started to pour down rain hard again (the fourth time of the day, though it truly never stopped really raining the whole day), and now I can imagine what a hurricane would be like. Those of you in Florida can imagine what I'm talking about, but it is really impossible to describe here in words. The wind started up and I was so thankful that we left the forest when we did, or we'd be in danger of trees falling on us. The rest of the team soon met us at the house, and after a brief rest and drying out, the Frenchman and I set out for Mahabo to get the car. Though a short walk, it was just as miserable, particularly with the wind, and it was like heaven to see the car, when we finally got to Mahabo.
We all piled into the car, and luckily I had had the foresight to bring a change of shoes and socks with me. We were all miserable, wet and cold, and I felt particularly bad for the French couple, who I don't think enjoyed their time in the forest, except for the lemurs. On the drive back, it was surprising how much the water had risen and how many homes were flooded and fields ruined. This people already suffer enough, and these two short days of rain will make the rest of the year very difficult for them.
We got to Farafangana and it was out of the question to sleep outside at Roxy's in the rain so we tried to get a room at Cocotiers, but some Senator or something was in town, so every hotel room was booked in town. Luckily, the beach resort, had one bungalow left, that we could all crash in, and I very much appreciated it. I felt like I'd just spent the whole day in a washing machine. Every part of me was sore and wet, and I knew if I wasn't careful, I could easily get sick. I felt equally bad for Mirana and Rundra, who were also clearly suffering. We were all happy to leave Mahabo, and considering the circumstances we got enough done to satisfy me. We said a quick goodbye to Roxy (who is actually coming to Tana this Friday) and then had a quick, Malagasy dinner, before falling into bed at 9. We woke up again at 5am Monday morning, to get on the road early, and we all were a sad sight to see. And just our luck, it had stopped raining. Apparently the cyclone never came on land, but just blew a lot of rain and wind in our direction. But of course there is no weather channel to confirm this, and it's all second hand info from people we asked around town. We got on the road promptly at 6am, and arrived in Tana at 9pm. The route seemed longer and more tiring, plus I got an interesting sunburn on my right arm from leaving it on the window too long. I caught a cold from being wet so long, but nothing serious and I'm taking it easy this week. A small open wound on my ankle is also slightly infected from being submerged in dirty water too long, despite all my best efforts to keep it dry. But given the excellent teachings of my father, I'm giving it all the due attention required. Other than that, I'm doing well and look back on my wet weekend with amusement. I plan soon to visit my dear friend Tabitha in Maintirano, but other than that, my daily Tana routine will soon undoubtedly re-establish itself and I plan to be back in the herbarium tomorrow.
After just re-reading my rather lenghty entry, I have remarked to myself that my style is duely affected by my recent readings. I've just completed a second perusal of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and I must so unconciously admire her style as to try to imitate it in my own small way. I apologize for the difference and hope that you notice the change with amusement as opposed to disdain; and I promise to return to former style for my next entry. Yours, etc.

Request

2005-02-16T10:24:00.000+03:00

So I believe it must be of the greatest irony that when there is a streak of good internet connection and I'm much desirious for news from home, I receive the least amount of news since my arrival here. Everyone seems to be quite busy (particularly my brother, who apparently is meeting famous people left and right), but I must put out the request for just a few words to be sent to me, here on the other side of the planet. When you have a spare moment, please just send me a little news on how your life is going and what's new there in the States... it will be much appreciated and I will respond very quickly... I promise!
As for my life here, all is well. I'm going into the field this weekend and I promise to write a funny blog with my adventures once I'm back.

Shopping in Tana

2005-02-08T13:06:00.000+03:00

So there are three different places where I shop for food etc. The first is called Cora and reminds me of a super Walmart. It's where the rich vazaha shop, but I sometimes see well off Malagasy in there as well. Everytime I go there, I'm reminded of America, because there is a huge parking lot, and truly the store is like a Walmart. That's where I bought my dishes and other household items for my apartment. They also have food, and in general, it's cheaper than the other super markets in town. So I go to Cora maybe once or twice a month, because it is an expensive taxi ride (relatively) and I always end up buying many things everytime I'm there.
The second place I shop is Shoprite and it's a smallish (for Americans) grocery store. There are several Shoprites in town and they don't all have the same things, and none are as big or have as much variety as Cora. In general, I go about once a week and buy staples, like yogurt, milk, bread, butter, canned goods etc. There is one literally across the street from me, so it's very convenient.
The third place I shop are the markets. There is an established market not far from my house where I'll normally go. I buy vegetables and fruits there normally, so I go once a week, sometimes more. The best time to go is in the morning around 9 or 10, after they have gotten their stock and before the heat of the day wilts everything. Also, earlier in the day, there is less of a stench from the meat section of the market, which I avoid at all costs, mostly because of the smell, but also because I don't really trust the meat from these places... I'm not that Malagasy yet. Bargaining in markets is difficult, and I usually don't know what is the right price to pay, so I do it less than for taxis, but I still bargain a little. It's now getting into peach/plum/apple/pear season here, which are some of my favorite fruits, and there are always tomatoes, lettuce, onions etc.
The other place to buy fruit and sometimes vegetables is in the street. Vendors walk around with baskets of whatever fruit is in season. You have to be careful though because they will run after you if you show any interest. It's particularly alarming when you are in a car and they will start chasing you down. You can usually get this fruit for very cheap, but I'm always sure to clean it very carefully.
This brings me to my daily morning experience. Many things are sold on the street, not just fruit, and the hilarious thing is to see how it changes from day to day. Last week, there was a surplus of large yellow towels that I saw people trying to sell everywhere. This week it's scales, telephones, blenders and large spotlights. I don't know who would buy a blender in the street, but that doesn't stop them from trying. So every morning I go through what I like to call the gauntlet of Independence Avenue... normally I'm in a taxi, so it's not as bad, but I still get approached by at least two adult beggars, sometimes an old man who is blind, usually two children, often a little girl who carries a baby on her back, two cripples who use wheelchairs to go up an down the street through traffic... they're usually the same people everyday, so I try to rotate who I give money or food too. Then of course there are the fruit vendors, the Wanadoo boys (my personal favorite, they sell internet cards, phone cards etc, and they all wear the same t-shirt and are everywhere in Tana), newspaper sellers, then the junk sellers, like the blenders and scales for this week, and finally the sunglass guys. These guys are the worst and relentless. They carry maybe 30 sunglasses in one hand and fan them out so you can see all of them. Then they have sunglasses all over their body and are amazingly deft at accessing them all. You don't have to show any interest at all, and these guys will follow you the farthest. One time sitting in traffic, this guy spent 5 minutes trying to convince me to buy sunglasses, while I was wearing my own sunglasses and trying my best to ignore him. But it's not as bad as this flower guy. This time I was on foot and coming back from Shoprite loaded down with bags. This is when I'm quite vulnerable, because it's obvious that I was spending money and I can't walk as fast with all those bags. So this guy spots me and trys to sell me this bouquet of roses, that I was absolutely not interested in buying, but he seemed determined to sell them to me. What's even worse, as I was going down these stairs, I nearly fall and kill myself (I'm actually quite clumsy despite the graceful nature I try to portray), but luckily the flower guy prevents me from this disastrous fall. Now, I feel guilty that he helped me, but I still don't want the flowers, so I say maybe later in the week. Bad mistake, because now he thinks I'm interested so keeps following me until I get to my apartment and my gardien prevents him from following inside. Now, I try to avoid this particular flower guy at all costs, and even went 5 minutes out of my way once, just so I wouldn't cross paths with him.
So that's food shopping and street vendors in Tana. As for other types of markets here, (of which there are many), it will have to wait for a second installment. Again I started this entry nearly a week ago and I apologize for the delay. I'm doing quite well here and even plan to go into the field this weekend to a place near Farafangana on the east coast. Happy Valentine's Day to all my loved ones!!

Mahafinaritra

2005-01-31T11:42:00.000+03:00

Malagasy for beautiful and pronounced more like "Mafanatra" then how it looks. Though it's overused, much like beautiful is in our own language, I was overwhelmed by this single word yesterday. But first, it requires a whole story.
Sometimes the pollution, noise and busy/stressful movement of Tana can get to me, so I try to get out of town whenever the offer is proposed to me. This past weekend I went down to Antsirabe, which is about three hours south of Tana. Now, I've written about the taxi brousse experience in the past, and as it is really the only means of public transport between towns (except planes, but I'm not THAT rich), I'm forced to take them when necessary. I've now gotten used to the cramped quarters and the three hours passed quickly, while reading my book. As we arrive in town, we pass the taxi brousse station rather quickly. This confuses me, but as I don't understand Malagasy and was absorbed in my book, I did not realize that the driver had asked if anyone needed to go to the station, and instead to drop people of elsewhere. This posed a major problem for me as I was meeting my friend, Andry, at the station and I don't know Antsirabe well at all. However, Malagasy people being as nice as they are helped me and got the driver to turn the car around. The kindness of strangers here goes beyond normal.
I have been to Antsirabe before and this time Andry and I had a lovely day eating lunch and walking around a rather picturesque lake. However, it was getting late and we both needed to get back to Tana, so we made our way to the taxi brousse station. Now, I have a somewhat infamous reputation at this station, and because not many vazaha ride taxi brousses, everyone remembers me. A few weeks ago, I had left overs from lunch that I didn't want to waste, so I decided to find a starving child to give it to. So I'm standing at the station and this little girl, no more than 4, starts walking towards me in a red dress that's mostly rags and no shoes. My heart is touched and I become determined to help this girl and give her what meager food I have to give her at that moment. Perhaps I was a little too determined, and maybe walked towards her too quickly, because as she saw me coming she screamed and ran away. I was crushed, and meanwhile everyone at the station, about 30 people, find this situation ridiculously hilarious. I can't believe I terrified this little girl, and it actually upset me for awhile, but eventually I found another little boy to give it too, and he at least didn't run away from me. Everyone at the station also found this hilarious, for reasons I can't understand, and so I was laughed at until the taxi brousse left. This past weekend, I'm sure people remembered me, because as we show up, many people start smiling and watching my every move. There weren't any taxi brousses this time however and Andry and I were more concerned about getting back to Tana. All of the sudden, Andry sees something and starts running towards the road, yelling something back to me that I couldn't understand. Well, the only thing I could do was to start running after him, which again put everyone at the station in stitches to see the big, tall vazaha running after a Malagasy... apparently that doesn't happen often. Eventually I catch up with Andry, limping a little cause I'm not supposed to run with my knee, and slightly annoyed because he made me run and make a fool of myself in front of all the Malagasy. BUT it turned out we were lucky to find a ride with someone Andry knows, in a real car, that's way more comfortable than a taxi brousse.
The ride back to Tana was exquisite. First, a few minutes outside of town there are these gorgeous fruit stands, that pile fruit in the most artistic way. I tried to take pictures of it, but it just didn't come out right. Anyway, everytime I pass this stand in the taxi brousse, I always want to stop, but of course, the taxi brousse won't stop just for my meager fruit desires. So on this last trip we were able to stop and buy beautiful green apples (you skin them, of course, before eating them) and wonderful purple, Welsh grapes that were very rich in flavor. I would have been content with just that fruit for the ride back, but the ride became infinitely more fulfilling towards sunset.
I'm convinced that there is no other sky in the world like here. The clouds do the most amazing, unbelievable things, and if I knew the proper words for clouds I would describe them to you, but I'm no meterologist. The best I can do is compare, and in the summer in Ohio, you get maybe two or three different types of clouds in the sky at a time, and that's usually right before a summer storm. Here I swear there are 8 types of clouds all the time, and the sky before a storm is truly indescribable. Plus, the sky here is huge. It reminds me of the western United States, because you get the feeling you can see forever. Anyway, the sunset on this particular ride back to Tana had me nearly in tears. It started around 5:45 and continued until 6:30, and it took up the whole sky... literally, everywhere I looked there were amazing colors reflected on the quite poetic assemblage of clouds. I didn't even deign to try to take a picture of it, because any result would have just been insulting to the beauty. I wanted to get out of the car, sit on top of the hill and watch this amazing feat of nature unfold over rolling hills and rice paddies. Andry thought I was overacting, but apparently he's used to these types of gorgeous events in the sky.
So, this is my follow-up to my rather strange blog about my difficulty with insects (which continues by the way... I found my first cockroach in my apartment, big as two fingers put together... nearly had a heart attack, but that's another story). But I just wanted to put all of your minds at ease, and describe some of the beauty as well. It took me several days to write this blog, so even though the date says Jan 31, I didn't post this until Feb. 3. I've been very busy this week with work, and I actually hired an assistant to help me. Her name is Mirina and so far things are going very well. I also had dinner with two other Fulbright girls the other night, which was very nice and intellectual and made me feel very American, reminding of dinner parties my friends and I would throw at Vassar. So that's my news so far... my next blog will be about shopping at the markets here in Tana as per request of my wonderful grandmother.

The revenge of the insects...

2005-01-28T14:06:00.000+03:00

Okay, so that should read, the agonizingly slow and painfully annoying revenge of the insects. So, I'm no great lover of insects (though as a biologist I greatly respect how they keep nature in balance...off topic, however). I attribute this lack of love to that horrible seen in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom... you all know what I'm talking about. Gave me nightmares for weeks of bugs crawling on me, one of the worst feelings in the world. So, you might be asking yourself, why would I come to a country in the tropics, renowned for having large and unusual insects, when I'm a self-admitted insect-loather? The following story/theory might surprise you.
I suppose out of luck I have not come across any scary insects so far... I've seen big spiders from afar, but luckily none have made it into my lovely abode. However, I think there is a current insect conspiracy to drive me insane. It starts with the ant invasion into my house. But this invasion is like nothing I've ever seen and I can't explain it. I'm sure you're imagining waves of ants devastating my apartment and finally resorting to eating me after everything else is consumed. This is what I would imagine, particularly given my memory of a MacGyver episode (probably the only one I ever saw, around the impressionable age of 7 or 8), where the heroic MacGyver was trying to save a small village in Tibet/Thailand/maybe even Madagascar from flesh-eating fire ants, that came in waves through the village. Another product of our media that gave me nightmares... but I digress. Fortunately, my ants are not the fire/flesh-eating kind, and they probably are either the smartest or stupidest things on Earth. I used to just find a couple in my kitchen, scrounging up bread crumbs, or sugar grains... normal enough, right? Then, they starting appearing in my bathroom... on the floor, crawling on the wall, and I have no idea why they are there. Now, I find them crawling on my walls, but nowhere near any food. The problem is that they are always in small numbers, so they fool me into thinking that I can kill them all with my bare hands. But then the same number will just show up the next day. I don't understand it, and I feel like I'm losing the battle, even though I crush many of them a day.
But the insect conspiracy doesn't end there. Of course, there are the mosquitoes, but I think they are the more passive participants, drawing my attention away from the other little pests. Every morning I wake up with new, small red bites somewhere on my body... they usually fade within a day, but I'm always getting more. I was convinced they were fleas for awhile, but now I'm not so sure, because I have doused my whole apartment in flea powder, and still the bites persist. The weird thing is they don't itch... I'm plagued by some mysterious, invisble insect. But this you could all dimiss as figments of my imagination, and possibly you'd be right. HOWEVER, the last bit, is the most frightening and traumatic.
In the beginning of December I started to notice this rather large (as big as my hand) black moth flying around the stairway in my apartment building. I avoided it as I do with all insects, but I thought not much of it. Then, last week, I left the door to the stairway open to bring in some groceries, and somehow this moth must have flown in. After a few minutes, I noticed it was sitting on my curtains in my bedroom, so I opened the door to the terrace and tried to shoo it out the door. I thought I was being kind by saving it's life instead of trying to kill it, but apparently the moth thought otherwise, because it tried to attack me. It flew right at my face and I tried to brush it away and out the door, but it flew right back at me. It was vicious, and I was sufficiently scared so I ran away, arms flailing, trying to decide what to do. Then I realized the moth got it's scales/dust all over my white shirt... I felt tainted. You shouldn't laugh... it was terrifying. Finally I decided to leave the moth alone, and somehow it must have gotten back into the stairway, because I still see it there to this day. I think all of these examples hold up my excellent theory of an insect conspiracy to drive me insane... maybe it's already worked, because by now, you must all think I'm crazy!
Okay, so this was a slightly ridiculously long blog, but it was the best I could do. Many people have put in requests for me to post often, so I hope they are at least satisfied I posted, even if it was a slightly insane ranting on insects. I'm mostly kidding about the conspiracy theory, but all these stories are true, if slightly exaggerated for effect!

Ahh... plant sex

2005-01-20T15:47:00.000+03:00

So, it has been announced in the Malagasy newspapers and on the news that Ashley Judd is coming to Madagascar at the end of the month. Besides being a beautiful Hollywood actress, she’s an ardent AIDS activist and is currently on an Africa tour. Though the situation in Madagascar is not nearly as dire as the rest of Africa, HIV and AIDS cases are on a significant rise here and there are many organizations devoted to prevention. Ms. Judd is going to visit with these organizations and the President of the Republic to give her advice on improvements. I was hoping to run into her on the street and just introduce myself as the bright, young, Fulbright, working on plant sex and try to become her friend. Somehow, I don’t think the plant sex angle will work so well, but it’s worth a shot.

In other Hollywood gossip, I’ve learned the tragic news of the big split that seems to have shaken everyone. Now that Brad Pitt is again single, I’m very happy with my choice of Southern California as the place to live for the next five years. Maybe the plant sex line will work on him… though I’ve read in various articles about him that his interests lie in architecture as well as playing the sexiest Achilles ever conceived (even if his character did differ significantly from Homer’s version). I guess my future as Mrs. Brad Pitt is a little far-fetched, but you can’t help a girl for trying… I’m sure there are thousands out there thinking up similar schemes.

In truth, I’m not that obsessed with Hollywood, more just curious as to what makes it such a phenomenon. I’m convinced that these stars are just normal people, who are really good at pretending to be someone important. In more pertinent news, the other two Fulbrights of my year have arrived in country. I had dinner with one last night (by chance her name is Laura as well) and it was nice to commiserate with another Fulbrighter. She has been to Madagascar twice before and knows a lot about the country, so I thoroughly enjoyed exchanging impressions and knowledge with her.

As for my work, I feel that the more work I do, the more work I have. Though I know it seems a mystery to most of you, plants are so fascinating to me, so I keep finding groups and questions that I want to learn more about. I feel I must have near 12 possible Ph.D. topics right now, and the number is likely to grow. As many have done in the past and are currently doing, I could spend a lifetime in Madagascar and just barely brush the surface of all that I want to know.

Wrapped up in my recent busy life, I forgot to share a funny plant anecdote with you. Before leaving for London, my colleague, Pete Lowry, asked me a favor to go collect a new species for him. He works in the Ginseng family, Araliaceae, which are not my favorite plants. However, there was no one else to help, and I had seen the plant before with him in October, so I knew where to find it. It fell to me to rent a car (with a driver) and convince two of my colleagues here to accompany me. So, we set out, with me paranoid of not remembering the road to turn on, and not remembering the plant, and frankly turning out as a complete failure as a botanist. Of course my fears were unwarranted and I remembered very well the road (I do have a good memory for those things) and though I did remember the plant as well, luckily I had two other very qualified botanists with me, and we had no trouble finding the plant. Getting the plant is another story… First of all, the road is what one might call a dirt path in the States, but in Madagascar that’s actually a pretty decent road. We didn’t have a four-wheel drive car, so we reached a point where the car could go no further, given that for about 100m, the road looked like the face of a meteor made out of red mud. So the three happy botanists continued on foot after a “delicious” lunch of bread, a type of processed cheese (yes, I’m a cheese snob) and canned sardines… luckily we also had cookies for desert. The sun was shining and we thought our prospects fair. And after about 10 min of walking, we found our plant… except that it was sterile (with no flowers or fruits, which is the whole reason we came for it). So we continued, and over the course of about 2 km, the rain started and we continued to find only sterile individuals of the plant we wanted. It was wet, and I was getting discouraged, particularly given my knee was starting to rebel against all the walking, and I started formulating apologies to Pete on how we tried, but ultimately failed, returning home soaked and defeated. But finally, as it started pouring down rain, we saw our plant. It was clearly in fruit, and in that moment, I had never felt such joy (okay, slight hyperbole, but give me some leeway, here… I’m trying my best to make plants dramatic!). The plant was a ways back in the forest, and as we trudged our way in, we saw that this 30 ft. tree was going to pose difficulties to collect. Luckily, my two companions, besides being good botanists, are also very experienced, Malagasy tree climbers, who proceeded to take off there hiking boots and socks and test surrounding trees to see if they could reach our target. With just their bare feet and hands, they shimmied up these trees, an ability that they both had learned since childhood. I would have given up girl scouts to learn how to climb trees like them… now in my old age, I fear it is too late. Eventually, as I was following their progress, albeit with much anxiety that they would fall and break something, one of them had reached our target, and started throwing down pieces of the plant. So here I am, staring up into the forest canopy, with rain constantly getting into my eyes, trying to follow the falling pieces of plant, that can be quite delicate, and I don’t want to waste them, but I also don’t want to trip on the slippery forest floor. The final piece to fall was the fruits, which I must say are quite extraordinary and have improved my opinion of Araliaceae. When I get a chance to upload more photos, I will include one. I quickly took as many pictures as I could without getting my camera too wet, and then we put the plant in a press, which is an art form all on its own, particularly with Araliaceae, and very difficult to do in the rain. We then started back for the hour walk, but with relief, instead of anxiety, as the presiding emotion. As we were just about to get to the pock-marked section of road that led to our car, the rain had let up and one of my companions saw another individual of our plant in fruit. If only we had been paying closer attention at the beginning, we could have saved ourselves the 4 km walk and soaking rain. We collected the plant anyway, for good measure, and got back to the car in time to get us back to Tana for dinner. All in all it was a successful trip, and I was pleased to help out Pete, who has helped me immensely with my work here.

Tonga soa!!

2005-01-10T16:45:00.000+03:00

Well, that means welcome in Malagasy, and is said after arriving here, or after coming home from a long trip. I've been back in Madagascar since late Friday night, and I do feel like I've come home, at least to one of my many. Though my stay here has been relatively short (a little over 3 months), I've become extremely comfortable with life here and how I fit into it. I truly did miss Madagascar, my apartment, my friends and colleagues.
That being said, I had a fabulous 2 week European family vacation, complete with excellent theatre in London and exquisite dinner parties with old friends in Paris. I arrived in London on Dec. 27th and from then on was in typical Vary family mode, with lots of laughter and general merriment. Though we did have our minor bickerings (my brother was set on seeing EVERYTHING in London), it really was a wonderful trip and I feel very fortunate to have spent New Year's in London with my loving family. Highlights: theatre (saw The Producer's, The History Boys (excellent, though very british "straight" play) and a pantomine with Ian McKellan in drag), a whirlwind packed day of day trip London tourist sites like Windsor Castle and Stonehenge, a surprise by our parents to meet our good friends Michael and David (the famous Men in Black) for lunch, having a fast internet connection (trust me it's a big deal... don't take it for granted) and watching episodes of Friends in english that I don't already have on DVD. I know that last one seems a little trite, but when you've seen every episode in season 6 of Friends about 5 or 6 times, you begin to hunger for change.
On Jan. 4th I parted ways with my family, not to see them for probably six months... very difficult to do, but I don't think my mom cried... or at least not in front of me. And then I was off for a short but sweet stay in Paris. I have a long and wonderful history with Paris and so it is always wonderful to return. My French "mother", Therese, welcomed me with open arms, the traditional French kisses, and two wonderful dinner parties that have become the staple of all my stays chez elle. But my life in Paris is also work and I returned to my dried plants and my project after a short hiatus. I also had the chance to discuss both the finer points and the bigger picture of my project with two of my colleagues. It was actually extremely helpful and I've returned to Madagascar with renewed vigor, if also more work... the bane (and gift) of being a biologist is that you there are always fascinating questions that you want to explore further, even though you definitely already have enough work.
So, now it's back to my regular routine, though I'm going to try to add Malagasy classes to that, so I'll keep you posted on my progress. Otherwise, please e-mail me and let me know how all of your holidays were. I know I've been a bad correspondent, but I really am trying to get better.... really, I am!!

Tsunami news

2004-12-30T15:06:00.000+03:00

To all my family, friends and loved ones, I am safe and sound in London, England with my family, and have not been affected by this terrible disaster. Miraculously, Madagascar also came out largely unscathed, and I have heard of no reported deaths. Though I have not heard from Tabitha or my other Peace Corps friends, I'm sure that they are safe as well, because no news is good news after all. My heart goes out to the hundreds of thousands who were affected by this disaster. What a terrible reminder of how we all are at Nature's mercy.

And the Malagasy dancing adventures continue...

2004-12-15T13:41:00.000+03:00

So I had quite a weekend by my standards. Since my arrival here, I've had several opportunities to try my hand at Malagasy dancing, which I've done best to describe in previous posts. However, this past weekend I wasn't going to miss out on dancing to Dadah de Ft. Dauphin LIVE (many girlish screams that hark back to the Beatles coming to America). So, you're probably wondering who this Dadah guy is, and to tell you the truth, he would be shocked that you don't know him... fame has the same effects everywhere, no matter the size of the island. Dadah is at the moment a very popular Malagasy singer, whose song, Kiliminty, is great fun to shake one's booty to. He came to Hotel Glacier on Friday night and I got to revisit the location of my first Malagasy dancing experience (again, see earlier posts). Given that Dadah is very popular and that Hotel Glacier is not that big, it was actually very difficult to shake one's booty. It was more like being pushed around with the crowd, while trying your very hardest to explain to the man who is two inches away from you that you would not like to marry him, no matter how many times he asks. I lost a shoe at one point, but luckily found it again and then my friend Roxy actually fell, due to the pushing, so we decided to no longer try to dance. However, while sitting, the music was quite enjoyable and I even got to meet the famous Dadah, who was quite the aloof rockstar. All in all, it was definitely memorable.
Not to worry though, the weekend doesn't end there, because Tabitha arrived on Saturday and of course, we had to go dancing! First, several Peace Corps girls and me made our way to karoake, where we sufficiently embarrassed ourselves in front of talented Malagasy, with our rather off-key renditions of classics, and at one point, Tabitha and I even slow dance to You Look Wonderful Tonight, by Mr. Clapton. The Malagasy seemed to find us entertaining at the very least. We then met up with the Peace Corps boys, and made our way to Le Caveau, a very fun dance club, with a room of Malagasy music and a room of more popular "American" music. To my surprise, I preferred dancing to the Malagasy music, probably from the disappointing booty shaking the night before. We literally danced the night away and I quite enjoyed myself.
Oh but there is more, though not related to dancing. On Monday, the Parc Zoologique et Botanique de Tsimbazaza (the Zoo and Botanical garden here in town) had a reception for their new herbarium building (which I'm quite excited about, because I will get to use it!). Anyway, it was a lovely afternoon of 3 long speeches, given in the French style, meaning that the introductions take up half the speech "Monsieur le representant du ministre de l'education nationale et de la recherche scientifique, Monsieur le representant du ministre de l'education nationale et de la recherche scientifique, bureau de Tsimbazaza etc." And all three speeches had the same silly introductions, it was quite laughable and I just had to shake my head at the beloved fomality of the French. There was a traditional Malagasy folk group that sang and danced and I got to hear the Malagasy national anthem for the first time. The food was provided by Hotel Colbert, the elegant French hotel that makes the best pastry, so I took my fill. Plus, there was press there and it was shown on the Malagasy national news last night... you could see the back of my head on tv!! In all honesty, it actually is a really nice building, that was badly needed and nowwill be able to house the near 100,000 specimens that have been collected so far, plus room for more. Good news for any botanist interested in the Malagasy flora.
So this coming Friday is the Peace Corps Christmas bash that Tabitha is throwing at my apartment... should prove to be very entertaining and I will be sure to write about it. I leave for London on Dec. 26th for fun with the fam! That's pretty much my schedule for the rest of December, though you never know what adventure may happen here in Madagascar! Who knows, I might even make it on TV again...

Ramblings...

2004-12-10T11:50:00.000+03:00

So I haven't written in awhile, mostly due to the fact there hasn't been much new to report. Life has settled down to a routine here, meaning that most of my day consists of bargaining with taxi drivers and pouring over dried plants. However, the routine is soon to be interrupted by the arrival of Tabitha and her whole group of Peace Corps volunteers. There is already much planned, like a visit to a salon and shopping, and the biggest event will be a Christmas party at my apartment, complete with fake mistletoe sent by my mother, the package queen. It should prove to be unexpected, interesting and always entertaining as most of my time with Tabitha turns out to be (remember Halloween?). So since there is nothing new to tell, I will give you a glimpse into my thoughts yesterday, with the warning that I recently finished Virginia Wolff's, A Room with a View ...
I work with three very exceptional women, particularly as Malagasy women go. All three are married with two children of varying ages and husbands who are all well employed (doctor, engineer, and a business man). For Madagascar, they fit into a new and growing middle class. There names are Sylvie, Jeannie and Lalao. I enjoy working with all three for different reasons, but mostly because they are dedicated botanists, and I've already learned much about the Malagasy flora from them. They are extrememly dedicated to the point where they will stay at the office until 9 or 10pm and will work all weekend if necessary. I completely sympathize with this type of work ethic, particularly given the nature of scientific research, that's difficult to explain to non-science loving people. There are times as a scientist where there is so much that you want to work on that you can't stop yourself from doing it. Okay, that was background...
Yesterday, Jeannie and I went to visit Sylvie's daughter in the hospital. I've always gotten along well with Sylvie's daughter, who is 13, and I was very sorry to hear that she was hospitalized for stomach/intestinal problems, relating to the uptake of calcium by the cells (apparently a common problem here that I'm very curious about, but off topic...). I definitely wanted to visit her, particularly since her family has been wonderful to me. It was her father, Sylvie's husband, who helped me with my knee. After visiting her and teaching her how to play an electronic solitaire game I brought from the States, Jeannie, Sylvie and I went to the hospital cafeteria for lunch (another universality, hospital food is bad everywhere). Our topic of conversation moved to time management and how difficult it is for women to balance home and work. Both of their families have complained that they are never at home, and Jeannie and Sylvie feel they are bad mothers because of it. But they both love their work and feel that choosing between them is becoming very hard and stressful. I told them that this situation is not unique to them or to Malagasy, but really working women everywhere, who everyday have to choose between the family they love and work that not only helps pay the bills, but that also is fulfilling in a very different way from family. Though I found our discussion very interesting, I was also quite pensive from it the rest of the day.
I started thinking about the situation for the majority of Malagasy women, and I was struck by how rare Sylvie, Jeannie and Lalao really are. As I have learned from earlier conversations, for educated Malagasy women, it is not uncommon for it to be expected of them to sleep with their professors/bosses if they want a promising job and career. If they refuse, all doors are shut. Sylvie, Jeannie and Lalao, and all the women who work for MBG, have, of course, not had to go through this, and have explained to me how rare that truly is. And for uneducated Malagasy women, the situation is even more dire. The average age to marry for these women is 13 or 14 and in some tribes, having 10 children is considered the lucky number, so to speak. In a country where people are in a daily struggle for survival, women's rights is of course non-existant. (I had to explain what sexism was to a friend of mine the other day.) However, I can't help but think about the importance of women like Sylvie, Jeannie and Lalao, for the future of Malagasy women, but also of Madagascar. It is strong, hard-working women like them that pave the way for their daughters and grandaughters to have even more opportunities, much like the women in my family have done for me. I am very lucky to come from a family of such strong women and to count some of the strongest women I know as close friends.

Weirdness...

2004-12-01T11:07:00.000+03:00

Okay, so it's Dec. 1 and I'm sufficiently freaked out about that. So let's start with the things I'm trying to get used to, slowly but surely:

- so on paper, it's december, and so in my mind, that means cold weather, maybe even snow, and preparations for Christmas. This is what it has been all my life, for 22 years. Now, it's terribly hot, and still it's december on paper. My mind is having trouble adapting to this, and I feel like I'm in perpetual summer and that time isn't really passing. Though I could be contented to live in this fantasy world where times doesn't exist, it will become a problem when I go to London, and it actually is winter there. I'm trying to prepare myself for the shock that will bring, and I'm sure my family will make plenty of fun of me for it.

- the frequent, near daily, blackouts of electricity. Yesterday, I was trying to work on my computer at home, and the power went out for an entire hour. Unfortunately, the battery on my laptop is not as strong as it used to be, and so doesn't actually last that long. Alas, I couldn't do my work, which despite what you may think, I was actually enjoying. But I decided to make the best of the situation and clean my very dirty apartment and do some laundry. I was actually quite proud of myself at the end because all the Malagasy here think that I don't know how to clean and that I was just going to hire a maid... my roomies from last year would have been quite proud as well, especially Jeff, to see my sparkling bathroom and kitchen!

- the very visible and distressing poverty, particularly of children. I must admit that there are days where I'm too distracted to notice them, and they just blend into the rest of the crowd on the street. But most of the time, it breaks my heart to see them, particularly when they come up to my taxi, not 6 years old, with an infant on their back, in the dirtiest rags and no shoes and clearly starving. The worst part of all, as I've been told many times, is that it's their parents that force them to beg in the street, because children get more money then adults. It's the same with cripples, who intentionally do it to themselves (or their parents do it to them at a young age)in order to earn more money. But I've decided to employ the same strategy I used for Paris... I always try to keep some small change out in a pocket somewhere and I try not to give money to the same people, so that eventually I can help more people that way. I've now started to carry some extra food that I don't really want in my bag... yesterday it was a half empty bag of peanuts, and last week, some yogurt that I didn't want. I always give these things to children, hoping that they'll get to eat it and it won't be taken from them. The reality of life and the world can truly be overwhelming sometimes and I wish I could do more to help them.

- being a vazaha can be very challenging at times, particularly as a white woman. If I'm not in the right mood and I'm walking somewhere in Tana, the stares and comments and attempts to hit on me can get very frustrating. It's never threatening, but I think it annoys me mainly because of the assumption that I'm rich and different from Malagasy... plus they always assume that I'm French, which isn't true, and believe it or not, I actually don't appreciate, because the Malagasy mostly dislike the French due to their rather complicated history. I understand that really the only information the Malagasy have of white women is through our media of movies, tv shows and ads, which as we all know, is a very accurate portrayal of women. So, mostly I try to ignore it and show that I'm unlike most French vazaha here, by speaking Malagasy when I can and eating in Malagasy restaurants now and then. And being a vazaha can sometimes be strangely rewarding. Children seem always amazed to see me, and it's wonderful when they will actually talk to me and we speak in Malagasy... they particularly love it when I have my camera and can immediately show them their picture on the digital screen. I hope it will lessen their awe/fear of vazaha in the future.

- Malagasy cuisine is not what one would call delicious. Though I have had some good meals, in general, it's a lot of rice and then some meat in a way too salty sauce. I've also discovered that Malagasy must have rice at least once a day, and they aren't used to lots of flavors in their food, besides salt and the very strong and fiery African spice, that I have learned to avoid, because it mostly just burns your mouth instead of adding much flavor. However, I love rice and the more I eat Malagasy food, the more I like it. Probably by the end of my stay here it will be all that I will eat.

- last, but certainly far from least, the bugs... mostly mosquito bites. Yes I knew I was coming to a country with lots of mosquitos and believe me, I came prepared, armed with more bug spray and bug repellent clothing than you would believe. I even went to all ends to put up my mosquito net, which had fallen down a total of 5 times, but I think I finally found the best solution. Yet, despite all that I still manage to have bug bites EVERYWHERE! I'm not kidding... there are currently 3 bug bites on my ass... and of course you can't itch them, because if you scratch too much, you risk making them bleed and then getting infected. Yes, even the smallest paper cut here becomes infected very quickly and Tabitha has quite the story of the pimple from hell... All I can say is thank god for my malaria pills and neosporin.

But in general, these are small things/annoyances, that most days I'm hardly aware of. In truth, I find that living in Madagascar is not all that different from living anywhere. One learns and adapts to the cultural differences as they come, and none are so great as to ever make me feel out of place. I will have to say that hands down the hardest thing about being here is missing my friends and family. Though e-mail is helpful, nothing can replace a long phone call or conversation over a cup of coffee with those that love me and know me best. It will be great to see my family in London and I'm looking forward to the many reunions with other family and friends when I get home in the summer.

Tiako i Madagaskara

2004-11-26T16:02:00.000+03:00

Which means I love Madagascar in Malagasy. This is a true statement for me after being here for 2 months, but it is also the new slogan for the country. I've seen it on t-shirts and even on the sides of buildings. I think it must be due to the new president (since 2002), who is really doing good things to try to help the country.

Short history lesson: Madagascar became a french colony in 1895, very late in the colonial period. It gained its independence in 1960, with the referendum Charles de Gaulle held for all French African colonies. Though disputed much in historic literature, this wasn't truly independence for Madagascar, because France still controlled most of the main government offices and functions. Then in 1972, a military general named Ratsiraka, held a coup and overthrew the government, establishing a communist leaning govt in the vein of China and North Korea. The country was then basically closed to all "vazaha", particularly the French, until the mid-80's, when Madagascar was too much in debt to keep ignoring the West. There was another president in the early 90's who didn't last long, and Ratsiraka came back into power in 1992-3ish until 2001, when the elections clearly showed he lost to Marc Ravolamanana (Madagascar's current new president). Ratsiraka wasn't willing to step down and give up stealing from his country, so there was a small civil war, (people call it la crise here), until Ravolamanana finally won, and sent the tyrant to exil in Paris, the common destination for exiled African tyrants. La crise actually made US news, which is rare for Madagascar. Now the people here have a lot of hope for their country and it seems Ravolamanana might actually be able to help his country... only time will tell. (Please don't cite any of this information, because as you can tell, I'm biased and not good at objective retelling of facts... if you would like sources, I'll dig up some old history papers, and get them to you).

Okay, history lesson over and now for my list of what I love about Madagascar:

- it's litchi season... a delicious fruit that you eat by the handfuls (in the Sapindaceae family, actually), and you'll see litchi peels and pits all over in the streets of Tana.

- even though I'm a botanist, I didn't realize there were so many different types of Mangos... my favorite, is a little, skinny mango with red-orangish tinge. They are a little sweeter, faster to eat, so less messy... yum!

- massive stormy downpours in the evening... I've never seen rain like this and if you're inside it's awesome! If you're outside or even in a taxi, you risk getting stuck, because a road's overflowed etc... but still, so cool, even though my dad cautioned me that I could easily drown... don't worry, I'll be careful!

- taxi brousse rides... i took a twelve hour ride to Mahajanga on the west coast, where the beach is beautiful, though the weather unbearably hot! Funny story: I went to the beach with my friend, Andry, and it was a little outside of town, and the taxi was expensive, so we decided to walk back along the beach. It was only an hour or so walk, and a beautiful day, so we didn't think it would be a problem. We are almost back to town, when we come across a river/estuary that flows into the ocean, and we have to cross this river. It's not that far, but we can't tell how deep and the people on the other side were not being helpful and answering our questions. The major problem was that Andry doesn't know how to swim, so we just waited until some people on our side of the beach walked up. It ended up being a group of children who just laughed at us and started walking right in. So, holding my bag, shoes and clothes over my head, I started wading across with Andry behind me. Lo and behold, there were rocks, that made the crossing difficult and slippery, and of course I fall and get my clothes and bag wet, and almost lose my shoes, while cutting up my knee and toes a bit... thankfully, my camera was in a waterproof case! The best part were all the Malagasy watching the vazaha wade across this river... they loved that I fell and really I had to laugh too. A typical Laura fall like that merits a good laugh. Andry, the non-swimmer, made it just fine, and of course joined in the laughter. Another thing I love about the Malagasy... they are easy to smile and laugh, a trait I admire greatly, especially given how hard life is here.
Okay, next time will be the things that I don't so much love, but trying my best to get used to! Veloma et bon weekend!!

7 weeks ago...

2004-11-18T09:00:00.000+03:00

So I arrived in Madagascar 7 weeks ago, and I have that conflicting feeling that time has flown by but I've also experienced so much, that it feels much longer than 7 weeks. I finally feel I have a sort of rhythm going. I will take you through my day:

Morning- The curtains in my bedroom, though beautiful, do not block out the light, so I normally wake up at 5:30 am. I usually can go back to sleep for an hour or so, but it's always restless, and if I can't sleep I read my book (I just finished Orwell's 1984, very freaky!). Then I make breakfast, consisting of tea (because the coffee here is terrible, and I could go into the botanical reason why, but that would bore all of you), yogurt (which is fabulous here) and some type of bread or cereal. I eat more at breakfast than I normally ever would, and I'm starting to believe that it does start the day off right. By the time 7 rolls around, I'm usually taking a shower or bath... I now bath nearly everyday. This will come as a shock/relief to those who knew me well at Vassar, but I have changed my ways here due to the extreme heat and excessive dirt. I'm usually out the door by 8, trying to find a taxi, and bargain the price down. Now that I know some Malagasy, it's become much easier.
Work day- I normally go to the MBG office for about an hour to do e-mail and other internet related work. Often the internet is slow or not working right away and this is when i get my daily office gossip or joke-telling, depending on the day of the week. On Monday everyone is shy and serious, remembering their Sunday at church, but by Friday, people have loosened up and the jokes and gossip become very "scandalous" and laughter is much more common. By 9:30 or 10, I'm in a taxi, heading to one of the two herbaria here. A herbarium is where dried plant specimens are kept as records from previous collections (I have seen specimens from 1830 in Paris before), and this is where I do the majority of my work. If you saw me, you would laugh out loud at how intensely focused I am on a specimen, with my face very close to this dried, dead plant. I sometimes even have to shake my head at how ridiculous it seems. Normally, I bring something small to eat with me, or I'll go buy a sandwich for lunch. If I happen to be at the office, I will eat with everyone there, which is usually very good food and even better conversation. The herbaria close at 4 or 4:30 at at the latest, so I try to get in as much time as possible. Then, depending on how I feel, I either go back to the office for more internet or the grocery store on my way home.
Evenings- Lately I've been making a lot of tuna melts or grilled cheese for dinner, accompanied with ramen noodles if I'm really hungry. Tabbie turned me on to this great Bolognaise sauce, so once a week I have spaghetti, a comfort food that always reminds me of my dad. Don't worry, I always have a piece of fruit too, so no scurvy for me!! Usually about once or twice a week I go out to dinner with friends from the office or visiting researchers. Tonight, it's Italian with the Japanese researcher here, Sachiko, who took good care of me when I was incapacited by my stupid knee. If I don't go out, I either watch a movie or Friend on my computer, or I read my book. I'm normally fast asleep by 10 pm. Amazing how quickly one's schedule changes.
Weekends or if Peace Corps people are in town- my schedule is very different and variable. Last weekend was quiet and I did a lot of laundry. This weekend I'm going to Mahajanga, a town on the west coast, with my friend Andry for a break from Tana and to see what the west coast is like. I will take many pictures for all of you. If any Peace Corps people are in town that I know, my life is drastically different, where I feel completely American and we go out to karoake or dancing until 3 am. Fortunately, it is not often that the few people that Tabbie introduced me too are in Tana, or I wouldn't be able to keep up. December however will apparently be very busy with Peace Corps people, and I even have started planning a Christmas party with Tabbie at my apartment. I will keep you all posted on these developments.

Sometimes it feels so strange to me how quickly I've adapted to life here. Tana no longer seems like a strange, confusing dirty city to me, but more like a fascinating place that constantly surprises me. Yesterday was a glorious day, with not a cloud in the sky and about 85 degrees. I was eating lunch outside at the Botanical Gardens/Zoo here, where one of the herbaria is located. Right in front of me was this little island surrounded by flowering water lilies. At first I just admired the plants, but then I realized that there were lemurs on the island, playing in the sun and jumping from tree to tree. No cage, apparently the water suffices to keep them contained, and they seemed perfectly content to play on their little island home. Then Malagasy school children in their little blue coats came chattering by, pointing at the lemurs and then gaping at the vazaha, me, who seemed to be more awe-inspiring. I awkwardly tried to speak Malagasy with them and we all laughed. I don't have many experiences that can compare with the laughter of those children and the beauty of the day.

Apologies for the delay

2004-11-13T16:30:00.000+03:00

Terrace 2
Originally uploaded by laurabvary.

So, I know that I haven't posted in a long time, but I wanted to deliver on my promise, even if it was delayed. So I've finally uploaded pictures of the glorious new apartment that I'm absolutely thrilled to live in. Go to my picture site to take the full tour of the place as well as see some pictures from my first party!!
So, yesterday evening I wanted to thank all of the staff that work at MBG here for being so nice to me and helping me to settle in so easily. My apartment is perfect for hosting parties as you will see. So, I ordered lots of food, had cold drinks on hand, and used my itunes and wonderful new portable speakers to provide the dance music. As I discovered, Malagasy only really feel comfortable dancing to their own music. American music just doesn't have the same kind of beats that they are used to. Thankfully, I had the foresight to buy some Malagasy music earlier this week and some people brought CD's to play as well. Though it was frightfully hot, and it started to rain, so the terrace was out of commission, we had a wonderful time laughing and dancing and telling stories. I'm so lucky to work with such great people, especially since they didn't laugh at my attempts to dance. AND, they even brought me a gift (another picture I posted) which was truly too generous of them. All in all it was a great night!
I just realized this morning that this is my first apartment that I've ever lived in by myself. Kinda strange that it is in Madagascar, but it is a magnificent place to start. I've been learning some things about taking care of an apartment, some of which I only think apply to my Malagasy situation:
1. Duct tape really can fix anything. Like my washing maching that spilled water all over my kitchen. It now works beautifully all because of duct tape... thank god I brought some from the States.
2. Ants will get into any bread that you have open within a matter of days. It doesn't matter how well you seal it, or even if you put it in the refrigerator... it's a good thing that ants are good protein!
3. If you want to have dry, clean sheets by the time you go to bed, you must start the washing maching early in the morning and hang them out to dry in the morning sun, avoiding the now frequent afternoon showers. You should also be very thankful that you have a washing machine at all... even if it did spill water all over the floor.
4. Take advantage of everytime that you are in a car with someone to help you to buy lots of bottled water. It's always heavy to carry and it sucks when you run out and want to brush your teeth.
5. Daily improvement of mosquito killing abilities is crucial. With such a beautiful terrace, I've often left the doors open too late at night, and suffered the consequences of many mosquito bites. Thank god for malaria prophylaxis and my now lightning quick hands to smash those little buggers.
6. Geckos make wonderful nighttime companions. I think they are good luck charms whenever I see them crawling on my walls, plus I bet they eat a lot of bugs, which is always good. I realize that this would totally freak my mom out, but I'm always happy to see a gecko on my wall.

So since my last entry, I've basically been enjoying my apartment and working on my project (remember the whole reason I came here!!). I will add more to the lessons I've learned as my stay continues. I've also become a Peace Corps Volunteer wannabe. I went to karoake (they DO have it here in Madagascar) with some volunteers, including my new friend Roxy, earlier this week. It is now a running joke that I have the best of both worlds... peace corps friends with all the luxuries of Fulbright money (like my apartment)!!
So, enjoy the new pictures and I promise I will post again soon. Hope you all are doing well and discovering ways to revitalize the democratic party and defeat those stupid amendments. All my love :-*

As an American abroad...

2004-11-05T08:54:00.000+03:00

It has been by far the most stressful week I've had here yet. After the insane weekend you all read about it my last blog the week has only gotten more stressful and insane. However, life does seem to be in balance this week... I've found the most amazing apartment in all of Tana and I couldn't be happier with it. It's on the 7th floor and I couldn't feel safer. I have a huge balcony that looks out over all of Tana... I really can't believe my luck. I will take pictures and upload them so you can all do a photo tour yourselves.
However, finding the apartment was not easy, particularly with my gimpy knee that was hurting a bit after my wild weekend. I trekked all around Tana and I saw all the furnished apartments for rent in this city... or at least those close by to the office. It was an experience, but thankfully I found the best one and it fits with my budget. I'm also very lucky to work with the nicest people who helped me in every step of the process, including moving. Luckily there is an elevator!
But I think the stress was nearly overwhelming due to the elections and feeling disconnected and isolated here. I finally was able to vote on Tuesday, and I was assured my ballot would arrive before the deadline in Ohio. I'm so angry that I couldn't have been there to make my vote count in Ohio... are they even going to count my vote from here? Don't they only count military votes as absentee? Does it even matter anymore? So I will take you through day by day of my week:
Monday: was actually a holiday here, and I relaxed and did some work after saying goodbye to Tabbie.
Tuesday: went to the American embassy and voted. Felt like a good citizen and also hopeful that things would work out. Started the apartment hunt, becoming progressively worried that I would not find a good place.
Wednesday: woke up to find out how close the race was. Became very emotional as news came that Ohio was the one state in the balance, plus internet was slow. I was in quite a state. Then, fearing the worst, went looking at more apartments, and happened to find the most beautiful apartment in Tana. Went from nervous anticipation about the election to extreme elation in finding such a place (you will hopefully see soon with my pictures). Day became progressively more packed with signing contracts, packing, moving my stuff, and going to the store for essentials. Fell asleep exhausted, though with twinges of anxiety since I couldn't check on the election due to the stress of the day and concerned after talking to my parents.
Thursday: came to the office to find slow, nearly impossible to use internet. this increases my anxiety, but I manage to see Kerry conceded the election... this news causes depression, and it's even worse when I can't even write any e-mails or post on the blog. But since I could nothing about it, went to do work on my plants, which I had been neglecting. In the afternoon more errands, but constant annoyance due to lack of internet. Finally, able to relax when I got back to my apartment and cooked dinner... then watched a movie on my computer.
Friday: Finally e-mail works and I read the many e-mails forwarded from my mom from our friends and family. I can't imagine how it must be in the States right now. Part of me is glad I don't have to deal with all the shit, but the other part greatly misses my friends and family and longs to console in this time of scary incertainty of what the next 4 years will bring us. As my brother and others have wisely said, in times like these, at least we have those we love, and in truth, we are blessed to have so many loved ones and to be so loved. My greatest hope now is that all of Bush's mistakes (ruining the economy, rising unemployment, an unraveling situation in Iraq, near global hatred of America, and the worst of all, supporting hate legislation that relegates gay Americans as 2nd class citizens, without the same rights as every other American) will come crashing down upon him and will expose the failure and ruin he has brought to our once great nation.

Side note: I cannot even put into words my anger, sadness, OUTRAGE, at these Federal Marriage Amendments, or whatever the are. I cannot stress enough how crucial this fight is, not just for gay rights, but for human rights. How dare we let them take those rights away! How dare they think that gay Americans shouldn't have the same rights as everyone else! It is the antithesis of everything America stands for, and yet 10 states have let it happen, including Ohio. We must fight. We cannot let this stand. Please go to the Human Rights Campaign website (http://www.hrc.org) and join in the fight and do something to restore the equality that is the foundation of America.

Okay, so as you can see, my life is in balance, strangely enough. Though I'm upset about the election and not having a lot of contact with friends and family, I have the most fabulous apartment and I feel like Tana is becoming a home, a comfortable and culturally enriching place to spend 9 months. It almost makesme not want to go into the field, but I miss that part of my work already and I will hopefully get to go soon. This weekend I plan to get my apartment together and there are actually a few Peace Corps people in town that I met last weekend... Don't worry, it won't be as crazy as last weekend. I'll post pictures of my apartment soon!!

Of taxi brousses and the Peace Corps...

2004-11-01T15:04:00.000+03:00

We're trouble...
Originally uploaded by laurabvary.

So to start, a short vocab lesson, as per request of my demanding brother. Taxi be, means big taxi, or here it functions as a bus. Taxi brousse, means literally bush taxi, and I will explain how those work in a bit. Malagache is the french word for Malagasy, which means both the language here and the people, and vazaha (pronounced vaza, the h is silent), means literally anybody foreign to Madagascar, though it usually is used in reference to white people. A few Peace Corps people have told me how difficult it is for African Americans here who are at first thought of as Malagasy, and thus treated differently. This is a complicated sociological issue, dealing with cultural identity and the definition of "the other" in post-colonial countries, but my friends Gina and Kal, could tell you way more about this than I could. Another example of my expensive Vassar education at work.
Okay, so on to the taxi brousse. As I mentioned in my previous post, my dear friend from home, Tabitha, was here visiting me for the week. She's a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) here and wanted to take me along to the Peace Corps Halloween party in a town called Fianaratsoa... about a 9 hour taxi brousse ride south of Tana. Since my knee was feeling so much better, I though I should live it up and meet some of these famous PCVs, Tabbie is always talking about. We woke up at 6:15 am on Friday morning, and we got to the taxi brousse station by 7:15. You must understand that this is actually very late in Madagascar terms, so we were lucky to catch the last batch of taxi brousse's heading south. As our taxi approached the station, about 10 Malagasy run along the taxi trying to get us as customers. It is very overwhelming, particularly this early in the morning. So we just randomly chose one who is shouting Fianaratsoa at us, and he gets into the taxi and directs it to the right shack. We enter this shack and buy our tickets. Seats are first come, first serve, so we ended up not getting the best seats, but it worked out for me, because I actually got to stretch out my knee during the trip. The actual taxi brousse is like a 15 person van, with two-seater banquettes on the left, and then jumper seats on the right that fold away in the aisle. There are four rows of these and then the front seat can usually seat three people beside the driver. I had one of the jumper seats on the right, which was nice cause it had a window and space for my knee. All the luggage goes on top on the van, and then covered by a "water-proof" tarp and tied down. This is by far the most popular and cheapest way to get around in Madagascar and there are many routes all over the country. There are some taxi brousse's that even last a week long in order to get to their destination (i.e. Tana to Fort Dauphin, in the south of Madagascar).
So, we actually ended up leaving Tana at 8 am to start our 9 hour trek. It sounds way worse than it is, and the scenery was beautiful. I must take a moment to describe the beauty. The land south of Tana is still part of the Plateaux region, and is therefore fairly wealthy. The terrain is covered in rocky hills, with a muddy, meandering river and lush, green rice paddies cascading stepwise down the hills. The houses seem to rise out of the land, being constructed of red bricks that are made from the surrounding earth. It's a different beauty from the road east, where you are surrounded by rainforests and poverty. It's how I imagined Vietnam, China or Thailand, and makes me want to own a rice paddy someday... though I hear they are a pain to take care of.
We arrive in Fianaratsoa around 5 pm, and we head to our hotel, which was like heaven to both me and Tabbie. Such a nice hotel, with a real shower and cost only $25 for both nights, breakfast included. We were ecstatic. We then found Tabitha's Peace Corps friends at a hole in the wall that seemed to only serve brochettes of beef (BBQ'd beef) and beer, which was fine with us. Tabitha had a hilarious, screaming reunion with her friends who she hadn't seen for 6 weeks. I find that Peace Corps people are my kind of people and it was so nice to hang out with Americans and speak English quickly. We moved from the brochette place to the Peace Corps house in this town, which reminded me of an old frat house, but for Madagascar standards is a very nice house. We preceded to have a typical college party, with lots of beer, loud music and good conversation and laughter.
The next day, Roxy, one of Tabitha's best friends from the Corps, came shopping with us and I bought a beautiful basket and the rest of my Halloween costume. We had a delightful pizza lunch, and then made our way over to the first stage of the Peace Corps Halloween Madagascar party. Oh yes, there were three stages. It was an event. This first stage was a pool party at the Hotel Sofia, which looked as if the architect had been on crack when he built it, but had a very nice pool. We arrived just in time to jump in and swim a bit before the thunder and lightining arrived. But there was plenty of refreshment and billiards inside, not to mention the loud American music. It cleared up towards the end of the afternoon and we got to swim some more. Another typical American moment in the African country the farthest from America.
We left the pool party to get ready, which is always the best part. As you can see from the picture (there are a few others on my web site now), our costumes were quite a production. I was Carmen Miranda, the Chiquita Banana girl, mostly because Tabitha wanted me to do it, and thankfully she was there to pin the REAL fruit on top of my head. The pineapple was ridiculously heavy, and needless to say the headdress didn't last long. Tabitha was leftovers, so she wrapped herself in saran wrap... she's a resourceful girl. It was pouring rain as we were leaving for stage 2 of the party. So Tabitha ran to get a taxi as I waited and was the entertainment for all the Malagasy on the street. Apparently, it isn't common for people to walk around in sarongs with fruit on their head. We got to the Peace Corps house to find it decorated to the nines, with no end to the creativity of costumes of the other volunteers. It was truly impressive. Stage two of the party consisted of all of our crew drinking and dancing at the house until we were ready to move on to stage three.
Stage three of the party took place again at the Hotel Sofia, which also had a dance club. This stage of the party was apparently advertised on the one TV station in town all week long. The hotel was on the other side of town so we decided to get taxis, except there were no taxis and we were standing in front of a brothel and attracting too much attention. So this drunken, strangely dressed crew of about 30 peace corps people and me started walking towards the hotel. We suddenly discovered the reason for the lack of taxis... there was a festival going on blocking the street, and with half of the town in attendance. So we paraded through, probably causing the strangest sight the town had ever seen. We end up collecting quite a following and I discovered my drunken Malagasy is pretty good. We arrive at the club, to find the rest of the town waiting for us. It was the party to be at that night. We started dancing immediately and the crowd joined in. The music was a mix of old school hip hop and Malagasy music and everyone was happy and dancing so much we were dripping with sweat. My knee held up great with all the walking and dancing and I couldn't have asked for a better Halloween in Madagascar. We slept about 3 hours Saturday night and woke up early to catch the taxi brousse home, where we slept most of the way. Tabitha left early this morning and as always it was hard to see her go. But at the very least I will see her in the beginning of December, which is only a month away. I cannot believe I've been here for a month already. Today is a national holiday and this week I'm going to be busy getting back into my routine and trying to find an apartment. I'll keep you all updated of course. Keep sending e-mails and writing comments... they are the highlights of my day.

And you all thought I was smart!

2004-10-27T10:49:00.000+03:00

I will now explain to you my moments of extreme stupidity. Ever since I was a little girl I loved to dance. Once I started really growing though, my knees started bothering me, and I went to a doctor who said unfortunately I have genetically bad knees, that will always be this way. I knew then that to protect myself I must limit athletic activities that could damage my knees... another reason why I was a swimmer and never a runner. Yes, despite what you all think, there was a good reason for my lack of athletic interest... not just my laziness. However, recently my knees haven't been bothering me as much, and the foolishness of youth convinced me that I could once again play the sports I never thought I really could play. This past weekend, there was an event for all the environmental organizations in Madagascar to compete in various sports, like soccer, basketball, volleyball etc. I was recruited as the tall, young, sporty-looking American to play volleyball (a sport which I enjoy playing, though fail miserably at) and basketball, where I surprisingly held my own on the court, running back and forth. After the match, I felt a slight twinge in my right knee, but passed it off as nothing and went to join our group in a picnic lunch. I then proceed to sit down in an awkward manner and I hear a slight pop in my right knee, followed by a certain degree of pain. Figuring I could fix this myself (it has happened before in the past, and I've fixed it then too), but in trying to straighten my leg, the pain only increased. I then decided to try to walk it off... again, more pain. Now I'm embarrassed and the people in our group are starting to notice my strange behavior. Luckily, Sylvie, who I know well and respect greatly was there, and I decided to tell her about my predicament. Even more fortunately, her husband is a doctor, so she called him and he met us back at the house. It turns out that I strained the inside ligament of my right knee, but thankfully I did NOT tear it. For the past few days, I've had to stay off my knee and feel terrible as people wait on me. Even worse, I didn't injure it in the field or in anyway to make a good story... I'm simply just stupid when it comes to my knees. But not to worry, my knee is now much better today and I can walk somewhat normally. Thank god for Sylvie's husband, because otherwise I would have had to go to the hospital, which would not have been fun, particularly for such a minor injury. I now have learned my lesson and will stick to swimming for my future athletic activities.
My friend from home, Tabitha Kidwell, who is doing the Peace Corps here in Madagascar, is visiting me for the week and it's been wonderful having such a close friend here. We can't get over the awesome coincidence of us both being here together on the other side of the world. It's a beautiful day in Tana and we plan to spoil ourselves with massages and pedicures, that will cost a total of $10. We vazaha are such hedonists. I hope all is well with those reading this and that you never find yourselves in similarly stupid situations.

On taxi be and dancing Malagache

2004-10-22T11:34:00.000+03:00

they are both at the same time exhilirating and exhausting. So, the taxi be first. I think it will take me my whole ten months to understand them. First of all, they have routes, just like most buses, and the route is listed on a wood board seen through the front windshield. However, all the names are Malagasy, and since I know only about 4 neighborhoods as of yet, you can imagine how I have no idea what most of the names are. Luckily, they also have numbers, so I'll just need to learn that and hopefully I'll be set. Except, that they also have colors, one color meaning the long route, and the other color the short route. And all of this confusion for just picking the right taxi be. Then, you have to get on one. Don't try at rush hour, 5:30 pm - 6:30 pm. I know from experience, you'll end up standing on the back of the bus/large van for the next few stops until some people get off. Fortunately, they can't drive too fast due to the traffic, and if you hold on tight enough, you shouldn't fall off... at least I didn't. If the taxi be is not too crowded, you may be lucky enough to get a seat, though, once sitting, it can be hard to get off, and you must be very forceful, but polite. It is about the size of a van and they squeeze in about 30 people max, so you're in close quarters. But it's truly an exhilirating way to see the city, making it feel like a maze of markets, school children walking home, rickshaws and traffic jams... and all for just 10 cents.
Dancing to malagasy music is another story entirely. I went last weekend with my friend, Andry, to the Hotel le Glacier on the Ave. de L'Independence here, basically Tana's main street, equivalent to Broadway/Champs Elysees. The group playing at the club was from the south of Madagascar and thus had many African influences to the beat. The crowd was the most interesting mix of normal Malagache out for a good time, Malagasy prostitutes, old French men and me, the only white woman in the place. The most depressing part was watching the French men with the Malagasy prostitutes. These women look like no other Malagasy I've seen, with more make up then a drag queen and intense hair extensions that could rival Beyonce. They would only dance with each other or with the old French men, who embarrassed me with their general bad dancing and inappropriate behavior. It's just a sad example of the remnants of imperialism here, found in any post-colonial country in the world, but still unnerving to see. But as for the dancing, it was a blast though utterly exhausting and my thighs have not yet recovered. Though I have danced since I was a little girl, I could never have the control that some of these people have... the men just as much as the women. It was extraordinary to watch, and made me want to learn. I held my own though and was complimented by several people. Andry said I'm on my way to becoming a Malagasy dancer... a possible career move, so I'll keep you posted. In any case, it was a blast to go out and dance the night away!!

The glory of plants

2004-10-16T13:43:00.000+03:00

Beautiful Vanilla-smelling orchid
Originally uploaded by laurabvary.

So the whole reason why I'm in this stunning country is to study the equally (if not more so) stunning flora here. Here's one example of the diversity of orchids here in Madagascar. As we were walking towards the deserted Indian Ocean beach (another picture on my site), these orchids were growing along the path. You smelled them first though. An alluring vanilla smell that made you hungry for dessert. Then, on the side of the path, a whole population of these flowering beauties. I couldn't resist taking a picture with the sunlight and droplits of water. I'm truly a lucky girl. More pictures from my field trip are posted on my photo site, so go take a look!!

Taxis in Tana

2004-10-13T16:49:00.000+03:00

So, riding in taxis can be the most stressful part of living in Tana. The difficulty comes at many levels. First, you must have a clear idea in your head of where you are going, usually not a problem, UNLESS you mispronounce a Malagasy word and then you end up in the wrong place and are confused, and embrassingly have to explain to the taxi driver that you were mistaken. Though they are normally very nice about it, you are expected to pay extra. Second, you MUST know how much the fare should be to where you are going. They will always demand more and you must bargain. Also, the fare will always be higher for a vazaha (a white person) then for a Malgache. Again, understandable, but difficult to grapple with. I struggle with whether or not I should just pay the overpriced fee, knowing that I can afford it (we're talking about cents here). However, once I give in to a fee twice what it should be and don't bargain, taxi drivers start to expect such things from all vazaha and then they will raise their prices for Malgache, who really can't afford it. So, I bargain, but always end up paying a little more than what I was told it should be. The people at the office shake their heads and laugh at how I was duped, but I feel okay about it. Third, and most important, you cannot stress out about the state of the car or how the taxi driver drives. The taxi I took this morning was literally a box of metal on wheels with a few uncomfortable seats. The gas tank was a plastic container in the trunk that had a hose running to underneath the car. But it ran fine in Tana and got me to where I needed to go. Also, it has happened to me that on several occasions (Tana is a hilly city) taxi drivers cut the engine while going downhill in order to conserve gas. This seems odd at first, but they know exactly what they are doing and I've never truly felt unsafe. The next thing for me to tackle here are the taxi be, which are a kind of bus, and only cost 1,000 fmg a ride (or 10 cents). I have yet to be in one, but have seen many. The difficulty here lies in knowing the route of the taxi be your in, where it stops, and then of course, resigning to jam packed buses (more like large vans that can apparently hold up to 30 people). I will keep you posted on those experiences as they come.

A word on photos

2004-10-11T15:32:00.000+03:00

So slowly but surely I'm learning how to share my photos here. There's a photo attached to the post before this one and if you click on the link, laurabvary, you will be taken to the rest of my photos. Here is the actual site name that you can visit as well if that link doesn't work: http://www.flickr.com/photos/laurasmadagascarphotos/
I only have pictures of Tana on there right now, but hopefully I'll get the others on there by the weekend. My brother would be proud that I figured this out all on my own. Off to do some real work, which is tsara be (or very (be) good (tsara))!!

DSCN0021.JPG

2004-10-11T08:42:00.000+03:00

DSCN0021.JPG
Originally uploaded by laurabvary.

A view of Tana from my room at sunset. The picture doesn't quite capture how spectacular it truly is!

Thoughts on Tana...

2004-10-10T14:21:00.000+03:00

It's the weekend here, so much more calm and peaceful at the MBG house than during the week. It provides lots of time to catch up on practical things like laundry and not so practical things like contemplating life and humanity. It's nice to have access to the internet whenever I want basically. It's quite a luxury here and I very much appreciate it.
I have a new Sunday ritual that I want to start. The nicest/fanciest place in Tana is a French hotel called the Hotel Colbert and it feels like a Parisian cafe/patisserie. I walked there today and enjoyed a delicious cafe creme and then a refreshing tonic, all for the absurd price of $2. And this is the nicest place in town. I then splurged another $2.80 on a chocolate eclair and some brioche. It is a luxury I can afford, but it is also a reminder of the economic mess that inflation has caused here. Sunday is also the perfect day to walk around Tana, because there are way less people and it is much more pleasant. Though it was hot and steamy, it was great to enjoy some independence and freedom, something I value greatly and take for granted as an American.
As a white woman here, I feel quite comfortable and never threatened. Though I'm hasseled more for money, it's to be expected and I'm learning to deal with it. The hardest part is not being able to go out alone after 8 pm. A frustration I remember from friends' JYA experiences in other parts of Africa, but it's still hard to cope with at times. Tana is really quite safe and I truly enjoyed my stroll this afternoon. As people say here and have told me many times, you must have an adventurous spirit in Madagascar and go with flow.
The beauty of Tana is quite unexpected and surprising. The buildings are mostly run-down 70's-80's style architecture buildings, and there are literally very little new places in Tana. Yet it's the quality of light here that gives a certain character to the city. The closest parallel I can think of is Italy, though the architecture isn't nearly as stunning. At sunset it is the most spectacular, and the view from my window over the hills of Tana truly makes me appreciate my good fortune in life.
Yet it is the Malagasy people here who make my experience so worthwhile and enjoyable. It is quite obvious that life is not easy here, but I have never seen people cope with such a joie de vivre. They are easy to laugh and joke and will always lend a hand in need. My second day here I was trying to find the American Embassy on foot by myself (I'd been there once before with my friend Andry) and I stopped to ask a woman directions. She couldn't have been any nicer and took me there herself. We joked along the way in French and I told here the few Malagasy words at the time. It seemed completely natural for her to help me and it's just one example of how the kindness of strangers here seems to go above and beyond.
There is a striking difference between Tana and the Madagascar countryside. As I expected, Madagascar is a breathtakingly beautiful country with a wildness that I can only compare to my experiences in New Caledonia. However, it is also heartwrenching to see the destruction of the forest here. Though I knew it was bad, to see it up close is very depressing and another slap in the face in how poor and desperate the people are to exploit the forest in such a way. The poverty is more shocking in the countryside than in Tana and I marvel at how humans are able to survive in such conditions. In hearing people talk and seeing the state of the forest here, one gets the sense that Madagascar is on the brink of disaster. It begs the question: how do you protect the unparalled biodiversity and rainforests that are rapidly disappearing without plunging the population into even deeper poverty? It is a question frequently asked but seemingly impossible to answer.
This week I hope to start work on my project, the whole reason Fulbright is paying for my stay here, and do get into a general routine. This coming weekend I'm going into the field for a short, two-day trip with my colleague, Pete Lowry, from Paris. I look forward to being in the field again and will hopefully see my first wild lemur...

Ahh the rainforest...

2004-10-08T09:32:00.000+03:00

For those of you waiting for me to wax poetic on Tana, you will have to wait... I've actually spent only 3 days in Tana so far, because I got asked last minute to go in the field on Saturday to the East coast of Madagascar. I was gone for 5 days and it was truly an extraordinary trip. I don't know where to begin, so this will be quite fragmented.
Things learned:
In the rainforest, it truly does rain. The name doesn't lie. However, even if it is not raining, it is very wet and you can always expect to end the day soaked.
Banana leaves are very useful... as a lunch picnic "table", a dry thing to sit on and even a cup!
Snakes are f-ing scary in the wild. Even when you know there are no poisonous snakes here, and that they cannot possibly hurt you, and are far away from you, they are ugly, slimy, scary, everything you can think... PLUS, surprising as hell when you are avoiding stepping in the marsh, and suddenly there it is, and you nearly fall in.
Orchids are as beautiful as you think and even more in the wild. The smell is extraordinary and you always feel like you've been given a gift when you come upon one.
The Indian Ocean is beautiful. The beach was completely deserted, the sand the color and consitency of sugar in the raw, and a wild, almost savage beauty to the surrounding vegetation. The waves were about 6 feet high and it's not safe to swim at this beach because of the sharks, but I did dip my feet in. I cannot believe my luck and good fortune to have been where I've been at the young age of 22.
Malagasy is a difficult but lovely language to learn. Aza fad, means please or pardon me, maono hoana, means hello, misoatra, means thank you, etc. I wish I could understand the language when funny stories are told. It's never as funny when translated 5 minutes later.
Malagasy people are truly remarkable. Our four guides wore the same clothes all 4 days in the field, flip flops and a smile. Their joie de vivre was infectious and even when you think you should be the most miserable, wet, hungry, dirty, you find ways to laugh with these generous people. Side note: One of our guides, Dzama, was 73 years old, though I was convinced he couldn't be more than 50. He walked faster than I did, still had most of his teeth, and knew an extraordinary amount about the flora here. Also, he has a 26 year old wife with a child in nursery school. I was completely amazed.
Practical things... always bring 3 pairs of pants: 2 field pair and one "nice" pair. A rotation of drying pants is necessary.

Things I'm grateful for:
My expensive Vasque hiking boots that kept my feet dry even when everything else was wet. Also the advice of my father and the ridiculous amount of socks he made me buy... he was right. It's worth it for dry feet.
My little packages of Kleenex. I had a wicked cold the first two days and it's always gross to be wiping your nose with dirty hands.
Speaking of, Purell hand sanitizer... life saver.
Cabela's rain jacket, kept my as dry as I could ask for in similar situations, plus it's also good to sit on!
Being able to ignore cockroaches in the latrine... very hard to do, but necessary.
Having the strength to pump water from an old-fashioned water pump and then still have the strength to bath after a long day. It's much harder than you think, especially when the water is freezing cold.
My digital camera that has captured the shots that I find unbelievable. I'm still trying to figure out how to share them with you all. It's amazing here.
My travel mates, Lalao, Sylvie and Lehavana, for teaching me Malagasy and making me laugh. We had a fabulous trip and it was a great start to my stay here.

The adventure begins...

2004-09-30T17:37:00.000+03:00

...in Cincinnati!!! So I'm really being over-dramatic as it wasn't truly an adventure, more like an extremem annoyance, that turned out fine in the end. Of course, I overpack my bags, thinking that the overage charges will be no big deal and they turn out to be over $900, which of course I wasn't going to pay. So we end up just emptying some from both bags and I checked a flimsy Delta box with the overage, thinking I would never see it again for the lovely price of $130 (extra bag charge). The flight from Cincinnati to Paris was no problem and I mostly slept which was nice.
However, the adventure continues in Paris, where I was convinced that I was going to miss my flight with only half an hour to make my connection. THEN, after we have boarded and sat at the gate for an hour, we are told that the plane needs new computers and it takes 2 hours to install them. Alas, i was not consoled and freaked out that there would be no one to meet me in Tana, when we landed at 1:30 am. Again, the melodrama was uncalled for, as I called my colleague in Paris, Pete, who then e-mailed the people in Tana, and the flight went off without a hitch, though it was really f-ing long.
Landing in Tana was both an experience, and also completely normal. It was slighting drizzling and as I stepped onto the tarmac, there was a faint smell of cinnamon in the air (it probably was just plane exhaust or something), but it made me feel like I was in the tropics. Getting my bags and getting through customs was like it was anywhere and much easier than I expected. I had heard horror stories of the strict/bizarre Malagasy customs restrictions. Apparently I looked to sweet and innocent for that.
Leaving customs was another story... you enter this giant room filled with Malagasy taxi drivers that will do anything to get your business, and of course I look like a rich, easy target. Fortunately, Andry from the office here recognized me right away from a picture he sent me, and we easily negotiated our way out of the giant, taxi-driver filled room. Once outside, there were fewer taxi drivers, though they were convinced I needed help with my cart. They finally left once my bags were in the tiniest Citroen taxi I've ever seen and that Andry had taken to the airport. We get on our way and I'm convinced that this taxi can't hold me, Andry, the driver and my 2,000 bags that weigh 1800 pounds each (okay and exaggeration, but that's what it felt like). This time my fears were validated and we got a flat tire about half way to our destination. Apparently, this is not abnormal and Andry and I laughed about the necessity for an adventurous spirit in Madagascar. Another taxi came along, and though the car looked bigger, we had the taxi driver's daughter, who ended up sitting in my lap. Eventually we arrived at the house I'll be staying at, and I finally turned out my light at 4:00 am Tana time.
I woke up around 10 this morning and took a shower that felt like a gift from god. I met many people at the office that I'll be working with and though their names are difficult, they couldn't be more accomadating. Andry took me to find breakfast and then we exchanged money on what he termed as "money road". I felt like I was buying drugs or something off the black market, but apparently it is a much better exchange rate. Later in the afternoon, I negotiated the streets of Tana all by myself and spent a few hours at the embassy meeting more people and getting registered. Again they were very nice and accomadating. On the way back, I spent the equivalent of 90 cents on 4 liters of bottled water, and sat down to e-mails and my new web journal. It's now 6 pm here and I'm off to make dinner plans or something...

Coming soon in my next installment: waxing poetic on the unexpected beauty and culture of Antananarivo (Tana)

Why Madagascar?

2004-09-26T21:55:00.000+03:00

This may be the most frequently asked question of anyone I talk to. I got interested in Madagascar from doing my botanical research on New Caledonia, which is another long story, which I won't get into. The short version is that one of my collaborators, Pete Lowry, on the New Caledonia project works frequently in Madagascar and is in fact the head of the Missouri Botanical Garden's (MBG) Africa and Madagascar program. When I was freaking out about a year ago about what I was going to do after I graduated, it was suggested to me by some Vassar people that I look into fellowships, particularly the Fulbright. I then e-mailed with Pete about going to Madagascar and within a week I had my proposal to go. Though it happened fast, Madagascar actually turns out to be a perfect next step in my research interests. At the end of this post, I included both my project proposal and my personal statement for my Fulbright, which is why this post is so long, but I thought some people might be interested. The Missouri Botanical Garden's website is www.mobot.org and if you click on research you can learn about all the exciting botanical things going on in Madagascar and other places in the world. If you like cool animals, SUNY-Stonybrook works a lot on Madagascar and particularly with lemurs. This is a website for one of the National Parks in Madagascar, but it links to lots of other info too: http://icte.bio.sunysb.edu/pages/ranomafana.html. Well, that's all for now, but I'll be posting regularly once I'm in Madagascar. Hope you enjoy reading about my Fulbright!!!

Here is the more science/technical project proposal:
Evolutionary biologists, from Charles Darwin to present-day botanists, have speculated about the origins of separate sexes, or dioecy, in flowering plants. Dioecy is a rare phenomenon on the global scale, but it is surprisingly common on islands (Hawaii 15%, Sakai et al. 1995 a,b; estimated global, 10%, Geber et al. 1999). There are several theories on the evolution of dioecy on islands, including long-distance colonization events, i.e. the correlation between bird dispersal and dioecious plants, and ecological characteristics of islands, i.e. the presence of small, unspecialized pollinators on islands which are associated with dioecious plants (Barrett 1996; Sakai and Weller 1999). Though the frequency of dioecy has been determined for a number of island floras, careful analyses of the origins of dioecy on islands are rare (Sakai et al. 1995 a,b for Hawaii; Webb et al. 1999 for New Zealand; Schlessman, Vary, Lowry & Munzinger in progress for New Caledonia). Thus, there is much to learn about the forces behind the evolution of the high incidence of dioecy on islands.
My goal for the Fulbright would be to work with the Missouri Botanical Garden’s (MBG) office in Madagascar to tabulate the sexual systems of the Malagasy Flora, using a combination of field research, herbarium observations and general information from available literature. After gaining this information, I would then be able to analyze the origins of the diversity of sexual systems in the Malagasy Flora. Pete Lowry, the director of MBG’s Africa and Madagascar program, and Chris Birkinshaw, the resident Technical Advisor of the program, have agreed to sponsor this project, as it has broad implications for the evolution of the diversity of the Malagasy Flora and the origins of dioecy all over the world. The Malagasy Flora, contrary to popular assumptions, has more similarities to indo-australo-malesian floras than it has to African floras, as it was geographically isolated relatively early from the Gondwanan land mass during the Cretaceous period, 121 to 88 million years ago (http://ridgwaydb.mobot.org/mobot/madagascar/ why.asp?order=5). This isolation has created a very unique and diverse flora, containing over 13,000 species and nine endemic plant families. MBG has many scientists both in St. Louis and in the field in Madagascar, collaborating with local botanists, working on computerizing information on the flora, and continually collecting plant specimens in the field. I would be working alongside both MBG and local botanists who are currently working on cataloguing the entire Malagasy Flora and could use the information on the sexual systems of these plants to supplement their catalogue. With a combination of field, herbarium, and literature research, I hope to have 80% of the flora preliminarily assessed within a year. These data would not only show the general trend of the evolution of dioecy on islands, but would also enhance the overall knowledge of the Malagasy Flora (all Madagascar information taken from the Missouri Botanical Garden’s website: http://www.mobot.org).
With a Fulbright to Madagascar, I would be continuing my research on the evolution of sexual systems in flowering plants on islands. I am currently involved with a research project in this subject for the flora of New Caledonia, under the supervision of Mark Schlessman of Vassar College, and in collaboration with Pete Lowry of the Missouri Botanical Garden and Jerôme Munzinger of the Muséum Nationale d’Histoire Naturelle in Paris. Our main goal for the project has been to tabulate the sexual systems for this flora, compare it to other island floras, and elucidate the origins of dioecy on New

Caledonia. After traveling to New Caledonia this past January to do field research, I am in the process of finishing the project as my senior research thesis in Biology for future publication.
The importance for completing this project in Madagascar has two implications in my life. Firstly, it will allow me to continue not only my undergraduate research interests, but also the possibility to pursue those interests for my Ph.D. research, as I plan to attend graduate school in the future. Secondly and more importantly, it would give me the chance to make connections and collaborate with Malagasy botanists, while opening the doors to the international botany community.

References:

Barrett SCH. 1996. The reproductive biology and genetics of island plants. Phil Trans R Soc Lond B, 351:725-733.
Geber MA, TE Dawson, LF Delph (eds). 1999. Gender and sexual dimorphism in Flowering plants. Springer, New York.
Sakai AK, WL Wagner, DM Ferguson, DR Herbst. 1995a. Origins of dioecy in the Hawaiian flora. Ecology, 76:2517-2529.
Sakai AK, WL Wagner, DM Ferguson, DR Herbst. 1995b. Biogeographical and ecological correlates of dioecy in the Hawaiian flora. Ecology, 76:2530-2543.
Sakai AK, SG Weller. 1999. Gender and sexual dimorphism in flowering plants: A review of terminology, biogeographic patterns, ecological correlates, and phylogenetic approaches. Pgs 1-32 in Geber et al. (eds) Gender and sexual dimorphism in flowering plants. Springer, New York.
Webb CJ, DG Lloyd, LF Delph. 1999. Gender dimorphism in indigenous New Zealand seed plants. New Zealand Journal of Botany, 37:119-130.

Websites:

http://ridgwaydb.mobot.org/mobot/madagascar/why.asp?order=5, 1996-2001, David R. Parks, Missouri Botanical Garden.

http://www.mobot.org/MOBOT/webmo/2001/aandm.shtml, 2001, Kathy Hurbert, Leslie Miller, Eloise Cannady & Mary Merello, on the Missouri Botanical Garden’s News & Notes, “News from Africa & Madagascar,” 1995-2003.

Here is a draft of my personal statement. I couldn't find the final on my computer and I'm too pressed for time to revise it now, so I apologize for the mild incoherence in the transition to the final paragraph (I know it will bother Adam the most!):
When asked the question, what is my passion in life, I always struggle with the response, as I have two passions that often seem to conflict: biology and French. Early on in my college career, I switched my passions weekly, depending on how those respective courses were going, and constantly with the mindset that I could never blend my two majors, no matter how hard I tried. Finally, in the first semester of my sophomore year, at the point where I had given up on how to combine my two majors, I fell in love with plants. I ended up taking a Botany course to fill a Biology requirement, and to my surprise the world became much more captivating at the tangible level, as I could walk outside and understand the diversity of life that was around me. One day in class, my professor, Mark Schlessman, was answering questions about his research on the flora of New Caledonia and his concluding statement was, “What I need now is a student with a double major in biology and French.” As it would turn out, not only was his project fascinating to me, but I also was finally able to merge my two passions, by deciphering scientific literature written in French.
Though the project started as a semester-long independent study, it continued into the following summer, when I stayed at Vassar to participate as a fellow in the Undergraduate Research Summer Institute (URSI). As an URSI fellow, I realized what I wanted to do with my life: explore my fascination with plants through scientific research. I finally finished the literature portion of the project first semester junior year, but we still had 15% of our project to complete and no literature sources to help us. Going abroad to Paris for the second semester of my junior year allowed me to meet a collaborator on the project, Peter Lowry, who works at the Muséum Nationale d’Histoire Naturelle (MNHN) in Paris. Working with Dr. Lowry and other MNHN botanists, we were able to finish the final 15% by examining dried plant specimens in their herbarium. While in Paris, I experienced the complete merging of my two passions. I achieved the level of fluency in French that I had always dreamed of; but more importantly, I was able to use my French while I researched, conversing with colleagues and friends at MNHN. Moreover, though the Paris herbarium may seem dark and dusty to most people, I was excited to see and touch the plants that I had been reading about for the past year. Nevertheless, my life in Paris was more than just plant research, as I was challenged by my five courses in a Paris University setting and the readjustment to a new culture. The woman I lived with was an excellent bridge into French culture, for she not only showed me Parisian and French life, but also introduced me to a variety of Francophone cultures, including Madagascar. Though I had some introduction to these cultures and their literature from my Vassar coursework, I was struck by the importance of Francophone cultures, particularly African influences, in Parisian life. I continue to be fascinated by the interaction of French and African cultures and hope to learn more from my courses this semester in both a History course on French colonial expansion and its effects on the region and also a French class on both French and Francophone travel narratives.
Upon returning to Vassar for my senior year, I was thrilled to learn that the National Geographic Society had completely supported our proposal to continue the project with field work in New Caledonia. This past January, Dr. Schlessman and I met Dr. Lowry and our final collaborator, Jerôme Munzinger, in Nouméa to start a whirlwind two weeks of plant collection in order to validate our literature and herbarium observations. Throughout the two weeks, I was delighted to see these plants in their natural environment and learn as much as I could about the life of a tropical field biologist. Similar to Paris, I experienced a merge of my two passions, by speaking French with not only the French botanists with us, but also in everyday interactions with Caledonians. By the end of the trip, I had solidified my passion for tropical island biology as well as gained more experience to prepare me for the possibility of research in Madagascar.
African cultures and their diversity are seamlessly drawn into the very fabric of this vibrant metropolis. Unfortunately, growing up in a homogenous environment, Africa has been presented in a somewhat one-dimensional image. I am curious to experience the difference between African cultures present in Paris and in their native country, like Madagascar. In addition, I am interested to discover what the Malagasy perception is of Americans, especially scientists studying their countries’ natural resources and environments. Ultimately, by researching in Madagascar as an American scientist, I would not only foster my dual academic passions, but I would also be able to immerse myself in the cultural landscape of a francophone African country.

Starting a blogg???

2004-09-25T23:42:00.000+03:00

So I don't really know what I'm doing, except that it seems like a good idea. I leave for Madagascar on Tuesday, and many people have suggested that I write lots of mass e-mails to stay in touch. Those who know me really well, know how terrible I am at e-mailing. So, this is my new theory: if I have a blog, and update weekly with all of my Madagascar Botanical Adventures, then I won't need to send mass e-mails, but rather spend my e-mailing energy on personal e-mails, which frankly are more enjoyable in the first place. Hopefully, this theory will hold true once I am in-country. So this is my first posting, and tomorrow I will post background info on Madagascar and by then, hopefully people will actually know about the site. A demain tout le monde!!