You're Beautiful

Dinner table conversation:

My dad: “So, you know how in America, on the 4^th of November, one celebrates the birthday of the United States?”

Me: “Um, sort of, usually in July we...”

My dad: “You live in Pennsylvania, yes? Well, is there a celebration that is like, the November 4^th for Pennsylvania? For to celebrate the birth of the Pennsylvania?”

Me: “Umm... original thirteen colonies...July...American revolution...”

Aside from communication difficulties (other gems include “Where can I do my laundry?” “Yes.” and “Are you done with school for today?” “Yes” “Where are you going?” “To school.”), my family and I are meshing really well. They love to compare differences between cultures, although their perception of American culture is mostly through Justin Bieber and reruns of Buffy/How I Met Your Mother dubbed in French. It seems like a lot of people here in Fort Dauphin, which is far more relaxed and surf-tastic, perceive the United States to be a lot like Tana, because “everyone is in a hurry there” and “they have small families.”

The past week or so was a little rough for me, because I was sick and then spent countless hours on my first taxi-brousse ride, which has been created specifically to maximize carsickness. I have a deep admiration for people who travel that way—you can do it up to 3-4 days, with stops only when someone asks to go to the bathroom. The delicate way to say this translates to, “A man is not a chicken!” because apparently chickens are perceived to have bladders of steel. The bus doesn’t have aisles because the seats have hinges, trapping you, but unfortunately it is equipped with an enormous stereo nailed to the ceiling that blasts a mix of Malagasy pop and James Blunt. The roads are so crazy that they frequently include things such as goats and rivers (Oregon trail anyone? And actually the whole “You have died of dysentery!” thing is a real concern...thank god for Cipro, the miraculous cure-all of such unpleasant afflictions.)

Today, though, I had a wonderful day, and I couldn’t stop thinking how happy I was to be here. My grown host sisters brought me shopping for what they called “fripperies” but as far as I could tell was clothing, teacups, snowboots, and vegetables. We took a public bus for a few cents each and stopped in a little shop to drink cold papaya juice and little fried samosas full of zebu. Hopefully the juice was not made with tap water or I will be facing round two of bacterial dysentery...not going to think about that right now. Sadly, the flip-flops that read “FREEDOM... TOO NOT IMMUNITY” were not in my size, but I did get a pair with a picture of a bus on them. I also bought an odd tunic that my sisters picked out for me, which turns out doesn’t quite fit my ribcage but is still very fetching if I don’t breathe. There’s a party at the surf shack tonight—I’m hoping for THB (Three Horses Beer—drink of choice here) and lobster, but I’d settle for octopus. Will update next week after our first round of lemur stalking in the spiny forest!