Since Matt asked me to write a blog post, I suggested we rename it to Lisagascar, but that doesn't quite have the same ring. Matt suggested something involving Lisa and Gassy, so I think we'll stick with Mattagascar.
I have now been here for 7 days. One day in Antananarivo when I arrived in the country and then 6 in the camp. Although most of my days have been quietly spent lounging by the pool, reading, napping and watching hockey, there have been a few rather interesting experiences. Not the least of which was a baking adventure which we will write about later.
My first big shock came when we landed in Tana. My luggage didn't arrive with me (not really surprising so I hear), so I had to file a claim with the luggage man and hope it would show up. Matt met me in arrivals and we hopped in a car and went to the hotel we'd be staying at until our charter flight the next morning. It was a pretty quiet ride as I tried to wrap my head around what I was seeing.
This being my first time in a third world country I was shocked at the level of poverty, but also the contrast between the dirty streets and dilapidated buildings, and the beautiful hotel we stayed in or the big open areas with lovely fields of rice patties and flowers. The hotel had room service and tasty food, though I am not sure if it was actually tasty or if I had just heard such bad things about most of the food that I was just impressed it was edible.
On Monday morning when I wasn't so exhausted I was able to take in a bit more as we rode to the airport where we would be catching our charter flight to Toamasina. There were people out in the fields harvesting rice patties, lots of little huts on the side of the street selling everything from non-refrigerated chunks of meat, to rice bowls to purses. Antananarivo being the large city that it is, there was a lot more development than I expected, but an obvious lack of funds to anything with it.
The charter flight was beautiful. An hour of flying just over the clouds on a relatively clear day gave me lots of amazing views of the hilly, jungle like land below. There are smatterings of little villages all over the place, large winding rivers and red roads. Seriously beautiful!
Once we got to the airstrip in toamasina for the camp folk we got in a van and drove to camp. This is where I got my first taste of what Matt has been talking about for two years. Matt had me sit in the front seat so I could take it all in, and it was a very humbling experience. There are several little huts, and I do mean huts, made of sticks with grass roofs, that are one room and house whole families. Many of the kids were running around outside while their mothers washed laundry by hand in a tub in a marsh behind the house. I had my camera bag on my lap, which contains several thousand dollars of camera equipment. I felt immediately ridiculous and materialistic. Which of course is ridiculous as I come from a very different place, but it's hard to remember that when confronted with such a stark difference. I mentioned this to Matt afterwards and he said that my camera was worth more than many of those people would ever see in their entire lives. I was immediately ready to throw away everything I owned. 5 days later my brain still doesn't know how to compute that.
We found out that my bag would be arriving in Toamasina the next morning so Matt arranged for the IT driver to take me into town to the airport to get my bags, and asked that he help me out. One of the reasons I needed so much help is I don't speak either of the main languages here so communication is difficult.
It was a rainy day and as we drove through town I got an even bigger sense of the poverty and way of life here. I enjoyed seeing the herds of goats and zebu's wandering down the streets of town, as well as the amount of people carrying chickens. Until of course Matt and his room mates told me that those chickens were likely a families meal for a week!
I also witnessed my first "poop ditch". Apparently there are no public deification laws here, so people can and will just squat in the ditch to take a poop. There was a man taking a poop and several men standing around chatting with him as he did so...in the ditch...in the middle of town. I also saw several men peeing wherever they darn well felt like. I don't think I could ever get used to that. Traffic was a little sketchy as well, with a combination of cars, motorcycles, tuc tucs, pus pus, pedestrians and animals. I was very happy to not be driving, and then had horrible mental images of Matt zipping around on his motorcycle. I shudder at the thought.
Once we got to the airport, the driver took me in and helped me explain what I was there for. There was all sorts of hullabaloo where they were filling out forms and weighing my bag and I couldn't get anywhere near it. Matt and his roommates had warned me about the "porters" in the green vests, and that I should tell them no and take my bag myself. Well being that they had my bag surrounded, before I even realized my bag was ready to go it was on its way out. The driver ran to get the car for me and I politely told the man in the green vest that I would take my bag. He looked away and pretended he had no idea what I was saying. Convenient.
When the car arrived, he lifted the bag into the trunk and then blocked me from the car until I gave him money. I said a few choice words in my head but handed him a couple hundred Ariary as that was the smallest denomination I had. Then he got out of my way without another look and went back inside. Scallywag!
My impression of town, though quite dirty and mostly falling apart, was that some of it was really quite beautiful. No expense is spared on churches, so they are wonderfully marvelous buildings, right beside a broken burnt out spray painted building that used to be who knows what. I was also shocked at the amount of people sitting around doing nothing. I am honestly not sure if this due to lack or work, but I couldn't tell the difference between those on work breaks and those not working at all. They all looked equally disheveled and not interested in doing much.
I had promised Matt and the guys that I would do some baking while here and needed to do some grocery shopping. Matt managed to arrange a couple hours off work on Wednesday morning and took me to town to the two main grocery stores. As soon as we pulled up I was immediately swarmed by little children with their hands out begging "please Madame" in sad little voices, and people trying to sell me any number of things. As instructed, I replied with "no Merci" and a smile and followed Matt into the store.
I found the grocery shopping quite amusing. First, trying to figure out what things were in the baking section when none of it was English was an adventure. Then I thought it odd that you cannot get brown sugar in this country, but they had kraft singles cheese slices! Or Rice Krispies. So strange! The prices were also interesting. I had suggested possibly getting another form of cooking sheet or cake pan, but a small 9x9 Pyrex dish was going to cost somewhere in the vicinity of $65! Good grief.
I decided I would make due with whatever the guys had back in the villa. Leaving the store was the same thing. Immediately swarmed by kids begging. I hopped in the car and left Matt to put the groceries in the trunk. Sorry dear :) the kids continued to bang on the window and door of the car as we drove away to the next stop. The second grocery store appeared to be a bit cleaner and more organized, but the exact same thing happened outside. I am not a fan of that. Thank goodness Matt was there or I would have given them everything I had.
In discussions afterwards Matt pointed out that most of the children looked healthy and had nice clothes on, and that if you give them money they will just run around the corner to their handler and give him the money. I don't understand people that operate like that. Those kids should be in school, rather than living a life like that to perpetuate the cycle. Ugh. I wish that us in first world countries could do something, or do more maybe, though I don't know what.
We drove a different way through the city so I could see the coast, and again it was dotted with zebu and goats. We also passed the prison, which is in town, and there was a long line of people outside. Matt explained that those were people lining up to bring food to their family members that are prisoners. Apparently if you don't have someone to bring you food in prison you don't get fed. I found that quite ingenious actually.
We made it back to camp, and I needed a nap to recover from the mental and emotional overload. I wouldn't say that I ever felt unsafe in town, but I did feel extremely uncomfortable and out of place. In talking with several people about the experience they have all said that the locals easily picked up that I was new and thus went for me first as the easiest target. I feel like that, and the fact that I must have the word "sucker" written across my forehead, means I likely shouldn't venture into town by myself. Not that I would have anyway.
Yet another confusing aspect is that we went out to dinner on Thursday, to the nicest restaurant in town, called Piment Banane. It was lovely! We sat at a nice table on the patio, enjoyed great service and delicious food. I found a large grub in my hair but apparently I will "get used to that". I beg to differ! Anyway, it was so beautiful, but nestled in between a lot of not so beautiful. I am having difficulty wrapping my brain around the contrasts here. I haven't been taking many pictures as it somehow feels wrong. Like I am exploiting the poverty and way of life here. Though I would love to try to capture the beauty and contrasts here, I don't know that I would be able to even if I tried.
