A Francophone Adventure

The next day we could sleep longer, as today only a short drive was planned. I woke up with a bad feeling which grew more intense every minute. I felt rather weak, as if I'd be sick. At breakfast, I told Solofo and he reckoned that it could be dehydration. Honestly, I didn't know how much I've had to drink the last days, but I guess it wasn't enough. As he asked me whether I'd think I could do today, I shrugged my shoulders. I won't know until I know. But I'd try, as today was the Local Living Moment and I wished for authentic cultural exchange. So, I drank up on electrolytes (which made me feel even worse as they were so disgusting I struggled not to puke). Seb wasn't feeling that great either, but he still supported me and stood by me. We drove to Lake Andraikiba, which was the Queens favourite place to spend her Easter holidays back in 1890. It was nice out there, and calm despite all the souvenir stalls that tried to lure one in. But I still didn't feel great. So more electrolytes. Seb felt better. Good.
We drove to the point where we'd be "released to the wild" - we'd walk the remaining 4km to our accommodation for the night. The sun was burning on our heads now as it was high noon, but luckily I took an umbrella with me. In Mauritius and also Madagascar, I've seen lots of women use umbrellas as parasols, so I didn't feel foolish. After half an hour, we stopped at the Healer of the village. He's also an astrologist and ghost talker, a man of many talents. As there aren't enough doctors around Madagascar, most Malagasy rely on their old beliefs and therefore healers. He couldn't speak English, so Solofo translated whilst the Healer explained his Doings. A huge part of the Malagasy population is Christian (90%), but one religion isn't enough, so that another big part of them are still animists (60% from the 90%). In Germany we say "Doppelt hält besser" - I reckon they got a hold on this saying.
We learned about the ways a healer could help people and could take some sniffs of tools (e.g. a piece of wood that smelled like pepper). Then he mentioned that he could do a "compatibility test" for couples before getting married. Sebs eyes went wide and I knew that he'd love to do one for us. A second later, he asked Solofo if he could ask the Healer to test us. His laugh was the reaction that I had in my head, however he asked the Healer and he agreed. So, Seb and I sat down next to each other, holding hands, and the ceremony began. The Healer was sniffing on one of his holy waters and fell into a kind of trance. He was mumbling the same Malagasy thing over and over again, whilst the candle in front of him and the zebu horn (filled with all sorts of things like honey, earth, etc.) in his hand started trembling. After 5min of that, he pulled his head up and took a deep breath. Solofo said that he was talking to the ancestors. Who's ancestors? I don't know... However, we were compatible as we were born in the right star constellations. The Healer just told us to always be honest to each other and believe in God. We went downstairs where all the other group members stood and asked "Are you compatible or will the bed situation be a drama now?" "Nah, we're compatible", we answered and Kates next question was "Did he propose already?" I was just laughing it off. Now I just had to start believing in God... Not gonna happen.
We had yet another 2km infront of us and it got more difficult, as me and the streets were getting worse. We walked between rice fields and passed by "zebu-taxis", but finally made it to our homestay at Fiadanana.
The well deserved lunch we were served was amazing and filling. The house we'd stay in hasn't got running water, toilets outside (western and squatting) and electricity only enough for the lights. This was far away from the western hotel we had last night, but I was looking forward to the new spider friends I'd make tonight (not really though).
After lunch, we went to see our bedrooms for the night. The women would share one and the men would share one. It felt a bit like a class trip, and when the rain hit, and we stsrted playing cards, the impression was completed.
After what felt like forever, the rain stopped and we made our very muddy way towards the school that was part of the "Avana Tsara Association" that G Adventures helped with by bringing tourists there. G is all about sustainable tourism, which helps in developing communities. I always thought that this is THE USP of G Adventures, so I was very much looking forward to see what it's actually like. The manager of the Association showed us one of four classrooms and explained how the association is working.
Primary school in Madagascar is technically free since the last president election. However, there aren't enough teacher that are paid by the government. For example, the school here had 2 government-paid teachers, the 4 others were more or less parents from the school kids and had to be paid somehow. So, each kid still has to contribute with 55.000 Ariary (~12€) per year to pay these teachers. It doesn't sound much for us, but it is a lot for the locals. These locals can only afford the school fee when tourism brings a bit of money to them. All people of Fiadanana work more or less with the Association, so that their kids could go to school. But when Covid hit, three years of non-tourism nearly destroyed the village again. The manager said something extremely deep that gave me shivers: "Covid didn't kill anyone in the village, finances did and still do."
Another big problem in education in Madagascar is that all school books and the teaching is in French, problem is that most rural teachers can't speak French. They might be able to read and write French, but not speaking more than" Bonjour, ca va?". Whereas they'd speak Malagasy, but couldn't read or write in Malagasy because they themselves never learned it in school. Isn't that fucked up? But everything" official" in Madagascar is in French. So, you'd always have the complications to translate back and forth in your head, and we all know that there are lots of things that can be lost in translation...
So, in the school of Fiadanana, they try to start teaching them Malagasy and French afterwards. One language after another, just like in Germany. That makes way more sense.
Another point why tourism in rural Madagascar is important was that the children would learn there is something else, outside of their bubble. Europe really exists and has white people and they're not trying to harm anyone (like in the 19th century), but they bring money. As much as I hate being seen as a cash cow, I love the fact that because of me, children might want to learn more in school. To be like the white people, educated and rich. And all the kids we passed by walking to Fiadanana, they greeted us in French, practicing with us and for themselves. I don't like the fact, that they somehow degrade themselves by thinking they aren't as worthy as white people, however, when it gets them learning and helps them in their future, I'm all for it.
After that very deep insight of what's going on (and especially wrong) in Madagascar, we walked back to our homestay, where we had some samosas (one kind baja-like but with pumpkin and sweet, another with watercress) and tea/coffee. The coffee in Madagascar isn't even close to the baddest coffee in Germany, so I decided for Eukalyptus tea again. We played more cards outside, until the next rain storm hit and we fled inside again. For a change, the locals brought out some singing books and instruments and started their show with Malagasy songs. After a couple of them, they "opened the mic" up to us and we could sing some karaoke with a life band. That was quite fun, however, I felt worse again. For dinner, I could barely eat anything, I felt so sick. So I excused myself and went to lay down a bit.
However, laying down I felt even more sick, so I grabbed Seb from downstairs and a bucket. Solofo told me to drink more electrolytes as the sickness could still be from dehydration. I disagreed silently. This feeling wasn't new to me, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was yet. Seb and I cuddled together in my 90cm bed and I started burping. Now I knew what made me feel so freaking sick. It must have been the very fat samosas that I ate. My body usually starts getting out all the extra gas from fatty food by burping for an hour straight. So, I behaved like a pig to get rid of the feeling and sure enough, after hundreds of bigger or smaller burps, I felt way better. The warm body of Seb helped as well, though. We might be compatible after all.Leggi altro