Village Jaunt

Shortly after arriving at my hotel I met three delightful guests who are from France but live in Antananarivo and took a vacation.

We all enjoyed saying hello, then they invited me to join them in a walk to a local village. The walk was about 6km (3+ miles) round trip on spectacularly pretty beaches and through brush. We bumped into a few groups of people who looked to be using branches to corral fish into a big net- a technique I've seen several times in Africa. Based on the fine mesh of the net, I suspect they are catching really small fish, which is probably not all that sustainable... But this is mere conjecture on my part as we didn't see them when done, only when beginning.

Their bashful smiles and giggles amongst themselves makes me think that maybe they don't see a lot of people who look like the four of us. "Vazaha" means stranger around here, and usually means of European extraction, sorta like "Gringo" in Latin America - not necessarily a perjorative term.

The village was almost entirely built of thatch huts. Most looked pretty solid, some a bit squalid, not so different from any village anywhere: some folks invest more in their surroundings than others.

When we arrived we were greeted by a growing number of curious children, and eventually a friendly guy in his ~20s named Ndrina Fabrice, who was visiting his parents. So we sat on the beautiful beach, chatted with our new friend, and played with the kids - who slowly got past their bashfulness; some candied peanuts really helped.

The local store/bar sold beer at ambient temps (~30° / 85°) and to my surprise... I've acquired a tolerance for it. I suspect that setting and company makes a big difference and still *prefer* my beer chilled. But when in off-grid Madagascar, one adapts.

We eventually said our bonsoirs and headed back to the resort with a beautiful sunset lighting our way.Baca lagi