A week in.

It’s actually hard to believe that I’ve been here for a week, it feels like so much has happened but like it’s only been a few days. One week means that I only have two weeks left here and while I’m excited for the other parts of my journey, this is a place like nowhere I’ve been with unparalleled beauty, not only in the vistas but the people. I’ll be very sad to leave.

I’ve gotten better at scrambling across the rocks on the way to Ampangorina each day, especially since high tide often changes the available paths and means more rock and less beach. I’m still a sweaty mess when I get to the other end but luckily there aren't many mirrors around so I just keep on my headband and go with it. The internet situation was a bit nerve-wracking at first; long story short, there is no internet at camp unless you have an international data plan for your mobile, purchase data on an entirely different island or already have a Malagasy mobile. There are two restaurants with internet in Ampangorina, the thirty minute hike, away but it can be tediously slow. I’ve tried to upload photos numerous times only to time out or give up before they finish. At first this all felt terribly inconvenient but I’ve been adjusting to, possibly even enjoying this new disconnected life.

I ended up switching my assignment from forest conservation to teaching - I started considering this switch on the boat over and I’m not positive what prompted the initial thought but after a few days I realized it made sense to get some teaching experience before I arrive in Tanzania. So far I’ve only taught a few classes with the staff at camp and with the adult class in Ampangorina, but I really love it. I suppose it’s likely the cultural anthropologist in me that loves getting to know these shy, sweet people. There are a few Malagasy staff members who live at camp but most speak little to no English. They do speak Malagasy and French, which is how the English speaking staff is able to communicate. I imagine that once they can speak English more comfortably it will make a significant difference in their relationships with the volunteers. Because many Malagasy are quite shy, before I really met the staff members as a teacher they would respond to a hello in kind but it seemed like they avoided conversation, likely because they didn’t know what to say. I felt uncomfortable having such a distant relationship with these people who lived at camp with us and did so much to help and keep everything running smoothly - it’s made me so happy to be able to greet them by name and see them smile, feeling more comfortable with me.

The adult class in Ampangorina is a challenge because there are so many difference levels of English speakers, but since the main source of income for the village is tourism, it’s helpful for as many people to learn English as possible. Our Friday session was on the topic of dating since many students had been asking about it and it was a fun one to teach as we acted out a dialogue for the class. Going into this I was well aware of how irregular English is but now that I’m actually teaching I’m more aware of it than ever. I love walking through the village, the locals are all friendly and return my greeting with a smile and a greeting of their own when I say hello is Malagasy. Their crafts are beautiful - I had seen pictures of the fabrics on the IVHQ site but it wasn’t until I saw the intricately sewn tablecloths in person that I knew I had to have one. I’ve also become slightly obsessed with finding a “secret box” for a souvenir, one of the wooden boxes with a small hidden panel that unlocks the entire box. And although I don’t know that it really fits with the style of our apartment I may have my heart set on a painting as well. It’s special to be somewhere that I not only see the people making these items, but see them every day and know that buying their items goes directly back to supporting them.

I expected my fellow volunteers to be young as most are likely on a gap year, but I had assumed many would be in their twenties. I was surprised that there were a few who had just completed high school but as it turns out one of my closest friends here is 18. I didn’t know what to expect coming in as the oldest person in camp - would I tire of spending time with the group? In many ways we have more in common that I had realized we would - we are all here, far from home, seeking a life-changing experience, figuring out how to adjust to the challenges that life here presents. A lot of people have scrimped and saved to pay for this trip, they are not necessarily the entitled youth so often assumed of this generation. Granted, not having wifi at camp likely changes things significantly - if wifi were available I might be living in a world of constant Instagram, Snapchat and Facebook. Of course I have plenty of moments that I treasure the peace in going to bed early or skipping out on a Friday night game of “I Never”. But overall, I’ve been very pleasantly surprised at how interesting this group is; that despite our differences we have so much in common and it’s truly been fascinating to meet each of them.

This first weekend has been complete bliss. We visited the national park on Tanikely island and it was the most incredible snorkeling I’ve ever experienced. Octopus, sea turtles, nearly every kind of tropical fish I’ve seen on previous dives and snorkels but all in one place. Giant parrotfish, anenome, sea urchin colonies... it was breathtaking. Complete with a pristine beach and an amazing lunch of grilled fish, zebu skewers, salad, coconut rice and potato salad - by far the best meal of the week. After lunch I napped in the shade, occasionally looking up to take in the view because there are so many moments that I can’t actually believe I’m here. We took the boat into Hellville and a friend and I stayed in town to run some errands and have a relaxing night in a local hotel with hot showers and good wifi so we could have Skype dates with loved ones. Hot showers and sleeping in on Sunday morning felt luxurious. We stocked up on a few items from the grocery store to bring back to camp because bread and jam for breakfast does get a little boring. Nutella to the rescue!! We just finished up a tasty lunch at the local ex-pat bar, Nandipo’s, and are enjoying a strawberry juice and free internet until we take the boat back to Nosy Komba at three.

So for now, Veloma.

First days

It was quite a journey getting to Nosy Komba from Nairobi, probably in line with what I expected from my Madagascar experience though - mora mora, which is essentially the idea that everything happens in it’s own time. I arrived in Nosy Be (the middle sized island) late Sunday and met a few other newbies to the program. Even just the drive from the airport was breathtaking - the lushness of the flora was incredible and we saw a few zebu (the Malagasy version of cow with a camel-like hump between their neck and back). It was too late to catch the boat to Nosy Komba so we stayed in Hellville for the night (it’s named after an explorer, not named based on the experience of being there). We found out that there was a big music festival that night and decided to check it out after dinner. It was like a music festival anywhere else, except as my new friend pointed out, we could see across the entire crowd because we were essentially the tallest people there by a large margin. I was also surprised at how young many of the children were who attended, in some ways it seemed more like a junior high dance with groups of young girls and groups of young boys all excited and the girls were very dressed up and it was honestly quite adorable. What I didn’t realize what that it was an all-night concert - it started at 9pm and ended sometime around 5am although the music continued until at least 7am. I was in bed around 1:30 but well aware of how late it continued thanks to the unsolicited advances from my new acquaintance Jetlag.

The next day we headed off to Nosy Komba on what would be the first of many boat rides. It was a bit awkward getting to our pirogue - we tried to stay out of the way of locals who were moving all kinds of cargo onto various boats and hopped easily from one to the other. We shed our boots and stumbled clumsily from one boat until the next, crawling over people and cargo until we reached our boat. The ride to our new home was stunning, perfect lush green islands surrounded by the warm turquoise waters of the Mozambique Channel. Upon arrival we met a number of other newbies who had arrived earlier in the weekend and not unsurprisingly, the majority were on a gap year either just out of high school or college. After learning which huts we’d be living in during our stay we dropped off our bags and had some lunch.

Now the info packet explained that most meals are based around rice and beans but it was implied that there were some vegetables. The unseasoned rice and beans I had that lunch were definitely a difference from the series of “last meals” that I had been having for a while including pizza, sushi, Russ’ weekend breakfasts, all kinds of amazing produce from the Portland farmer’s market like smoked salmon, chèvre, white satin carrots, lobster mushrooms, yak burgers, sausages, etc, etc. I knew what to expect, I was probably most surprised by the lack of vegetables and seasoning, but it’s only three weeks, how bad could it be?

We had the first part of our orientation for the forest conservation program and then had the opportunity to head into town. Did I mention that there are no vehicles or roads on Nosy Komba? I was slightly unprepared for the walk into town - I was told it is a 30 minute walk, I didn’t realize that included a number of rock scrambles in between the coves so having a water bottle in one hand and a camera in the other wasn’t the best idea I ever had. I did get some great photos though. And I made it, dripping with sweat, happy I wore my Keens and with great admiration for the other 35+ year old who led the group into town, barefoot, hopping like an antelope over the volcanic rocks and making it all look easy in a cute outfit. Maybe by the time I leave...

Safe arrival

Thankfully my flights were uneventful and despite a few moments of panic in Nairobi airport as the last few bags came onto the conveyor and I had still not seen my backpack arrive, my luggage and I arrived. It was an interesting journey to the hotel, which I picked from Lonely Planet recos and positive Trip Advisor reviews. It seemed easy to reach from the airport and was conveniently located close the National Park and the areas I planned to visit during my one day in Nairobi. I cannot properly express the chaos of the airport parking lot, it seems most of the international flights arrive within a two hour time span so just leaving the airport was a challenge. But I saw some goats on the road and we had a nice chat about the weather and what time the sun sets. Apparently when closer to the equator sunset means the sun is gone - as in it's black as midnight in a very short amount of time. Forget the hour plus of twilight I was used to in Portland. We hit some insane traffic which we later discovered was due to an accident on the highway, a term I'll use loosely going forward. But the most interesting part of the trip to the hotel was when my driver explained that he was going to drive across a field to get to the hotel. I mean yes, I did intentionally choose a location on the outskirts but driving across a dirt field of potholes was unexpected. We arrived about an hour later than expected, due to the traffic, not the field, and the room is spacious and clean and has a view of a garden and dogs that sound wild and somewhat ferocious barked late into the night.

My ambitions to sleep in were in vain but it felt amazing to sleep for at least a few hours in a proper bed. It looks like we're in for scattered thunderstorms today so it remains to be seen how productive today's adventures will be but I decided to spring for a driver so the lovely Kilonzo who picked me up from the airport will take me around a bit. I felt a bit entitled/ uncomfortable hiring a driver for the day but Nairobi has a pretty dodgy reputation and the STEP program has sent a few warnings about threats in Kenya and I figured I'd be a bit discombobulated after my travels so I would spring for it. 

The jet lag allowed me to check in with Russ via Skype and spend some time reading and reflecting on the interesting people you meet when you travel abroad. My DC to Zurich flight neighbor was a guy I'm guessing about my age who was going to visit his wife in Tanzania - he lives in DC and she is on assignment for an NGO in Tanzania and they see each other every three weeks! This made the bi-coastal distance Russ and I dealt with look like nothing. My middle row on the Zurich to Nairobi leg included a very sweet and patient Tanzanian man who had to sit next to an American preacher who made me want to crawl under the chair. You know those moments when you're trying to blend in and be considerate and you observe someone being every bit the stereotype of an ugly American and you're completely horrified and for a moment wish you were from somewhere else or at least were somewhere else? Preacher man lacked an indoor voice, perhaps because he was used to preaching to a big room, but it made avoiding his ignorance all the more difficult. He reviewed a printed powerpoint deck about religion with the kind Tanzanian man for about the full length of the movie. I tried desperately not to overhear their conversation, I didn't want these snarky judgmental thoughts sneaking into my head. "But the problem we're having in 'Murica is that girls don't get married until they are 25 or 26 and they sleep around with different people and get cancer." For reals people. "All there is to life is to get married and have children." Children are amazing, no doubt, but I'd be hard pressed to find someone in my social circle who believes that children are the meaning of life. I later realized why he thought it was so important to breed when he stated, "What if you only have two and one get sick and dies?" and then "who will take care of you when you're old?" Ahhhh.  I see. It's all clear now. I'm sure he is a nice man, clearly deluded, but means well and traveled a long way to spread the word of the bible to the people of Kenya. (NB: Please forgive my rant - I am fortunate that I'm not often confronted with these situations often. However, that makes them all the more shocking when I do.)

Fortunately my neighbor across the aisle was an Aussie who has spent the last seven months traveling with his girlfriend and is heading to Tanzania to climb Kilimanjaro. They meet up in two weeks and continue on to South Africa for four more months of travel before they head back to Australia. Fantastic. Amazing. He didn't even take his hiking boots off for the entire 7+ hour flight. A part of me can't help wondering how they do it, resource-wise, but then realize that it's not so much about how one does it but that one does. I love meeting other people driven by their wanderlust and their desire to see more than the cocoon we can all easily slip into. A year would be bliss, but even a week or two, perhaps a month when feasible, is all it takes to get away.