We spent a lot of time recently learning about the Rio Tinto mining site in Fort Dauphin. They are digging for ilminite in the sand to create titanium dioxide for various paints and cosmetic whitening purposes. The project is run through Qit Madagascar Minerals (QMM) and involves about 40 years and three large areas of littoral forest destruction. They plan to restore the forests when they are through digging through the sand by replacing the trees and some of the animal species. It’s a pretty big deal. And it’s very complicated. I’m about 91% positive I’m going to do my Independent Study Project on some aspect of it.
We got to visit a few of the sites related to the project which is quite a privilege since many people living in the area don’t even get to see what’s going on in their backyard. On the way home from one, we walked through the main market in town and bought cheap notebooks for our field journals. (And by cheap, I mean 500 ariary which is like 25 cents. Everything here is cheap by our standards. Very little costs more than one US dollar) And many of us have been trying to find lambas. A lamba is basically just a large piece of pretty cloth that Malagasy women use as skirts, dresses, towels, baby holders, hair wraps, blankets, wall hangings, ANYTHING. You see women with them everywhere yet somehow they are difficult to find in the market. Most of the clothes you see at the market are imported second hand clothes from the US or Europe. I bought a piece of cloth that I planned to use as a lamba but it’s much too small to serve the right purposes. I still have a while to get some legitimate ones though.
My appetite is raging here. Maybe it’s all the bread and rice we eat that won’t stick to my ribs but I am always hungry now. I can’t stop buying cookies at the market. They’re just so cheap and convenient and delicious it’s hard not to. Good thing I walk everywhere and hike mountains and all that nonsense. I’m also eating literally almost the same exact things every day: baguette with butter and hot chocolate for breakfast. Then some baguette with jam that Clare always brings to class. Then we have a snack (at least one banana and maybe some peanuts) between classes. Lunch is usually pretty big and always involvs either baguette sandwiches or rice with some meat and veggies. Then I might get some coco cookies on my way home. Then dinner is always rice with something. Nine times out of ten it’s the little fish that’s served whole and you dissect the meat out of yourself. I actually really like it but I’m surprised how often we eat it. I forget what it’s called…
Not having communication with home more than once or twice a week is really frustrating. I woke up early to go to the internet café, Kaleta, before school one day just to find the internet had been cut that morning. In a fit of rage, I sat in there for a long time just to pass time and one of the other SIT students came in to use the bathroom. He told me that, during the previous night, his homestay’s latrine had set on fire!! So he currently has no bathroom at his house. That made me feel a little better about not having internet. At least I have a toilet… even if it doesn’t flush.
I experienced the first real rainstorm in my homestay house this week. My bed is in a small room with a low tin roof and pane-less windows. The rain was so hard and loud it woke me up every five minutes. I actually thought the world might end. Or worse, we might have a cyclone! It was the most terrified I have been my whole time here and I was supposed to be safe in my bed. Luckily when I woke up after an hour of sleep, it was a beautiful day and we went to the beach after classes.
People here seem to have no sense of intrusion. Or they just think that vazahas have no real feelings. Laying on the beach, five little boys came up and surrounded me, blocking my sun. I said “Salama, Ino vao vao, etc.” (Hello, what’s up) and then they didn’t leave so I tried French: “Parlez-vous Franςais? Toi, tu aime la plage?... Au revoir” but they didn’t seem to understand that. They started touching me like they wanted to feel what white skin felt like. Trying to give them the cold shoulder and ignore them, they started putting their hands under the cloth I was laying on and I had to start swatting them away. I tried saying goodbye in every language: Bye! Au revoir! Veloma! But they just kept mimicking everything I said. I’ve never been so annoyed by children before. Finally Larissa said “Ciao” and they left… I forgot we went to the Italian beach in Madagascar?
Then almost immediately after that, two older guys (probably our ages) came over and started talking to us. I guess they had seen us there before. We were making small talk which is fine. I tried to stay out of it and let the other girls talk since I had enough with the kids. We stopped talking to them but they sat there quietly while we talked to each other. When we left the beach, we said “veloma” but they decided they were coming with us. One branched off with Sidonie when she parted ways and the other followed Larissa, Emily and I all around town for about half an hour! He even stood around while we stopped at snack stands and we literally ignored him the entire time. Emily even tried explaining nicely : “pour nous, les américains, c’est très bizarre pour quel qu’un suivre des filles qu’il ne connaît pas.” (for americans, it’s very strange for someone to follow girls he doesn’t know.) But he ignored that and stuck around until she finally said « nous voulons si vous ne nous suivez pas maintenant.” (We would like if you did not follow us now) He pretended he didn’t understand while earlier it was clear that he spoke French. He also spoke a little English… “You go that way. We go this way.” finally worked. It seems that there is really no humility in this culture. If you do not talk to someone who is walking with you, it’s not obvious you want them to go away. The best part is that this is a pretty small city so we WILL see them again.
Then we had the best day! We went to visit the fishermen village which was located an hour and half of dirt roads away. We packed into five SUVs and off-roaded it through the craziest roads and paths. It made me miss driving my jeep at home. The life of a fisherman is incredibly hard. They keep traditional methods of difficult fishing and go out on the water from 3am to noon seven days a week without breakfast. After interviewing them, we got back in the jeeps and drove to a huge isolated beach. At one point we were actually driving ON the beach, right along the shore. It felt like I was in that level of Halo… you know what I’m talking about. We had a big lunch and two hours of swimming and sunbathing without anyone bothering us. The water was gorgeous and the waves were coming from all different directions. I am now almost the same color as my host mother. We had Malagasy class on the beach and right as it started I noticed a strangely placed blister on one of my toes… it was a parasy!! I was officially the first one to get a parasy on this trip. Apparently it’s inevitable. A parasy is a tiny parasitic bug that lives in sand and gets under the skin in your feet and lays its eggs. So they took a sterilized needle and dug out this strange white blob of bug eggs from my toe. It was pretty awesome!! I didn’t feel a thing and everyone was impressed. I’m officially in Madagascar.
Oh and also, that day ended with chocolate mousse cake at Kaleta (the fancy internet café we go to) for Maddie’s birthday. Best day ever.
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