Reflections: One Year Later…
After the craziness that was Operation Smile, I returned to
Mahatalaky happy to get back to the quiet life. And oh what a quiet life it’s
been! It’s my one-year anniversary of living in my happy little hut here in
rural Madagascar. And what a year it’s been! To recap:
- · I’ve fallen into a rice patty aka a giant mud puddle.
- · I’ve fallen off a camion truck and injured myself.
- · I successfully weaseled my way into being part of a family here.
- · I completed a really awesome World Malaria Month project.
- · I got good at Malagasy.
- · I became an animal hater.
And that’s just a short list…its crazy to think how much time
has passed. The past month in Mahatalaky has been very low-key. It’s still
summer vacation here, so it’s kind of life a ghost town. Honestly sometimes I’m
surprised I don’t see tumbleweeds blowing through the street in the wind its
THAT empty here. The Health Center was also closed for a couple weeks and is
only just opening back up. So I’ve really had time to just sit back and relax
and remember what its like to live fulltime in rural Madagascar. But as always,
I managed to find a way to occupy myself. I painted a giant mural on one of the
walls of my hut slash bungalow, made some collages with the one-year of
backlogged magazines I have in my possession, and visited my friend Sam, the
volunteer (and Alpha Phi!) who lives 15km away from me. It seems like after one
year, I’ve progressed in a cyclical manner and am once again just hanging out
in Mahatalaky like I did in the first couple months after I got here! Not much
has changed in 12 months. But look who’s also celebrating an anniversary! Happy
1st birthday to Christiana!
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| 1 week old! |
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| 1 year old!
I still remember the night she was born, I had been living
in Mahatalaky less than 2 weeks, and I heard all the commotion in the middle of
the night, but was too scared to go out and investigate what was going on. I
met the little baby when she was just 2 days old! I was still confused about
98% of the time and knew next to nothing about Malagasy culture. For example,
no party is complete without consuming liter upon liter of soda or beer. For a
girl who doesn’t like carbonation, I’ve come a long way and I can hold my own
drinking soda with the best of them now!
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Circumcising
A couple weeks ago, I was lucky enough to get invited to a
traditional Malagasy Savatra, or circumcision party. Circumcision is a major
cultural event in Madagascar. Families will save for years to be able to throw
a big savatra for their son. Typically, multiple boys and their families host
an event together. In this case, around 10 boys ranging in ages from about five
to twelve were celebrating. Some of the older boys were circumcised a few years
ago and only just now had the money to celebrate a savatra. Hundreds of people
are invited, and even more people just come to watch and celebrate. I had heard
about these parties, but nothing could have prepared me for actually attending
one. I went with Sam and a few Malagasy friends who work for the NGO Missouri
Botanical Gardens. We drove out further into the countryside about an hour, and
then forded two rivers in rickety canoes. The tiny village of Elodrato,
situated right on the coast, hosted the Savatra. By the time we got there
around 4pm, the party had already started; Loud music, lots of food, and even
more alcohol. The village elders and male heads of family were holding court in
one of the houses receiving all the partygoers. The women were preparing food
and singing the traditional celebration songs. After we completed our requisite
visit to the elders and family heads, we headed over the main area/dance
floor/open field and staked out a spot on the grass. I perched myself there
from about 5pm until I tried to go to sleep at 10:30pm. What a place for people
watching! Pretty much everyone was completely drunk. Every single person, from
littlest kid to oldest man, was dancing. Malagasy people really know how to
party! Sam and I decided to turn in around 10:30pm, and the party was really
only just beginning. I woke up periodically throughout the night, first around
midnight, then 2am, then 4am, then 6am. At all these intervals, the music was
still blaring, the people were still shouting, and the party was still
raging. When we finally got up the
next morning at about 7am, there were still around 20 people on the dance
floor. Commitment.
Day Two of the Savatra, think Picnic Day. You have all kinds of food ready to eat, the sun is out and shining, people are passed out on the grass, and yet the alcohol is still flowing. Someone cut these people off! By 10am the party was going full steam again. The boys were paraded in on the shoulders of their families and friends and marched all around displaying the money and alcohol they had received as gifts. The mothers and aunts and grandmothers of the boys wore special sarongs and money displayed on their hats or in their braids. Uncles shoot blanks out of a gun into the air. After the marching and parading, there was more drinking of the alcohol received as gifts, and lots of dancing. If you’re Malagasy, there can never be too much dancing, or too much drinking for that matter. Sam and I were pretty exhausted after 24 hours of the nonstop party, so when it came time to leave that afternoon, I was a little relieved. After one year here, I can definitely say that I CANNOT HANG with the Malagasy people when it comes to partying. I think it’s engrained in their genetic makeup to be able to consume insane amounts of moonshine without getting a hangover and dance all night without getting tired. I had never been so relieved to return back to my lonely little ghost-town village with all of its 21 inhabitants. Peace and quiet!
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| amateur |
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| noob |
As I look back on my first year in Peace Corps,
I am reminded how lucky I am to have such a caring support network back home.
My friends and family are endlessly thoughtful and patient with me, from the
packages and emails they send, to the crazy person phone calls that they field
from me…Thank you Bonnie for not hanging up on me when I called you during your
labor screaming about how I was FREAKING OUT about the new baby! It’s a crazy life, but even on
the worst day, I can look around and remember right away why I want to be here.
There’s still so much to do and so much to see, and I’m excited and ready for
my second year as a Peace Corps volunteer.
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