Complicated

So, it has been a whole week since the first day I woke up in Madagascar! So much has happened that it is impossible to describe everything, but I’m definitely “honeymooning” still as far as culture shock goes. We arrived to a hotel in the capital, Antananarivo (literally “city of a thousand” but it currently is about 3-4 million), and wandered the streets last Thursday night. It was very strange because apart from our hotel, with a few spare European tourists, we were the only vazahas, and people stared and laughed unabashedly. It’s totally acceptable to stare and point here, which is actually somewhat refreshing. No one ever stares at me in the U.S. unless I sneeze in a quiet room. I like being allowed to stare back and see what people are doing. After one night in Tana and a brief visit to a small and mildly depressing zoo (first lemurs of the trip though!) we flew to Fort Dauphin, which is much more laid-back, a city of about 50,000 on a peninsula.

We stayed at a place outside the city called Manantantely, which means “where there is a lot of honey (tantely)” nestled in some rainforesty mountains. The place was sort of a convention center in theory, taken care of by a large family, so there were cute children who followed us everywhere and loved peeking in our window and asking us for pens. Pens are really big here among more rural people, since they’re so necessary but hard to get. Our dwelling there was a bit of a stretch because it had some squat-style outhouses with cockroaches twice the size of my thumb and the showers were bucket-full-a-cold-water style. But after a few days there getting our bearings and getting our Malagasy sea-legs, we went downtown and attempted to bargain for food. I got in the meat group, which was quite a shock. The market was really beautiful and vibrant and cheap—if you’re buying something fun and delicious like pineapple (in Malagasy “mananasy” which has something to do with the word for “sweet” I think) or adorable little cans full of nuts and beans. But buying meat is a scene that maybe would be in a J-horror movie—it’s visually horrifying and you have no idea what’s going on. There are disembodied hooves laying in little piles on tables covered in flies. One woman tried to convince us to buy a slab of pork as she held it in our faces, smoking with the same hand, ashing her cigarette onto the table full of remaining meat. My group went the smart route and purchased a live chicken, which we held by the legs as is customary. It was very mild-mannered. I feel very conflicted about eating meat here. It’s rude to refuse, so with my family I am, of course. I try not to think about where it’s coming from—maybe that same market. But at the same time, the animals here are treated very well. They live such better lives than a slaughterhouse chicken I would eat in the U.S., I’m sure. They get to cock-a-doodle-doo constantly (seriously, at 3 am) and live in big yards and sneak into the house to peck bits of rice from beneath the table and scare the cats.

And this brings me to my homestay—it’s pretty awesome. I live right on the beach, with two parents and their two youngest daughters, who are thirteen and fourteen. Their four older kids live in houses next door, and one of their sons owns the surf shack and has promised to teach me. Also, we’re snorkeling for lobsters for dinner soon, which sounds amazing. I can also hear and see the ocean from my bed, and they set up a giant mosquito net so I don’t need to put up my little internal frame one. So far I haven’t gotten any more mosquito bites than I would during the summer in the U.S., but this mean black beetle bit my shoulder last night when I was doing my reading for class. I flung it out the window. My host sisters usually watch everything I do and smile at me a lot, and they’re very cute. They asked me if I like Justin Bieber and they love Avril Lavigne soo much. They have a giant poster of Angelina Jolie and they think it is Avril Lavigne. I don’t know why, since they have an actual poster of Avril right next to it, but I guess maybe they just think all American sex icons are her. I didn’t want to be rude and explain...

I’m leaving now to see my family in their home, but I hope this gives a small taste of Madagascar! I will tell more about the actual classes and ecology (read: lemurs!!!!!) when we start doing that more.