The latest adventure was a great one, and all you have is my word because all of the pictures over the last few days got erased.

So I’m still working in Mahajanga, but everyone deserves a little vacation.  So my host sister Joelle and I decided to go visit my friend Laraine’s village, which happens to have a goreous beach, gorgeous enough for them to build a swank resort next to the village.  I mean swank–I’ll probably never see the interior of something that high cost. 

We took my host cousin, Tantely, with us.  They said to wait for the car at 11, then showed up at one.  This is very typical “mora mora” attitude (it means slowly, slowly in Malagasy and is more of a way of life than anything else).  It vaguely means that when people give you a precise time, they’re really giving you about a three hours time frame from that time when they can show up.  My host family leaves for an event usually about half an hour after it begins.

They told us there might not be a car coming back that night.  My host sister looked at me and asked, “ça fait rien?” (Do you care?), and we all kind of concluded that we’d worry about it till later and it was, indeed, “rien”.

This place is crazy remote.  It’s only 20 kilometers out of town but it’s down this twisty dirt road.  The drive takes about an hour and a strong stomach.  But when we arrived we saw how worth the trouble it was–miles of white sand and light blue water, soft waves, not a person in sight.  There were cows in sight, though.  I don’t even really know what they were eating out there, but there they were, standing in tropical paradise and munching away.

We went on a photo expedition and saw that the fishermen had caught sharks.  Note, sharks, plural, as in there were three.  One was at least seven feet long.  We watched them chop em’ up.

After that we went for a hike in the patch of primary rainforest, which is lemur-infested.  We went down this small path and I fell in mud, but it was worth it to see a little brown lemur perched on a branch, just glowering at us.  There are lots of snakes too.  I shoujld mention that Madagascar doesn’t really have poisonous snakes, but my sister has a phobia and almost jujmped out of her skin.  After that we rinsed off in the neighborhood watering hole.  My host sister asked Laraine, “Where does this water come from?”  Laraine: “I don’t know…Do you really want to?  Just don’t drink it.”

When we finally realized that there was indeed no way to get home that night we spent thirty mintes by the bamboo gate where ther are tiny, nay, miniscule pockets of reception.  We finally reached my host mom and got back to Laraine’s host family’s hut, where they fed us fish that had been caught that afternoon, the most delicious fish I’ve ever tasted.  Then they laid out pallets on the floor and I spent the night on the floor of the hut of the village chief.

In the morning, we got there at 7:30 when they said the car would leave, but it really ended up being after nine.  At least the unreliability is predictable.

I head back to Tana on Monday and I am so sad!  You know how sometimes a place just resounds with you, sinks into your bones, becomes a second hometown?  That’s what Mahajanga is for me.  These people are family.  This place is magnificent. 

I’m going to go do some Christmas shopping at the artisanal market now.  In 100 degree weather.  Oh, being close to the equator.

Send my regards to Austin!

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