Blaze Orange

First a quick bridge update: The ManakaraBe bridge has still not been repaired however a set of steps have been installed to aid pedestrian traffic, a second militaryesque bridge has been erected 1K north, oddly without any foreseeable construction of a permanent structure this temporary bridge looks to alter Manakara's traffic dynamic for some time.

Back in Ambalona, nearly 3 months of drought has come to an end. Late October and early November usually signal the beginning of the rainy season, and for me this means that gardening just got a whole lot easier, but it also means a that roof once again leaks. Planning ahead however I purchased a rainbarrel in Fianar. After strapping to my bike rack and biking it through a tourist littered 40K, I have since installed it on the shady south side of my house in. It collects water from my showers tin roof via 2" PVC gudders, and after a good night of rain I'm left with 175L of water to quench my gardens thirst.

"We're really going to fly down the hills with this stuff Russ"

Back home as the hills are set ablaze with autumn's pallet of from gold to crimson, sadly too are hills around my village in annual fires or Tavy. Typically the land is burned to clear new lands for rice cultivation or establish new pastures for the abundant cattle, but I can't see how it adds up. Much of the land surrounding my site has already been cleared, and the few trees left in the valleys look to be the seeds of reforestation, however the land is still burned. Many in my village have spent entire nights fighting the fires armed only with large ravinala leaves in order to try and snuff it out, but the next night the hills are again mysteriously set ablaze by an anonymous arsonist. Education looks to be the answer but I can only assume that those set fire to the land take similar regard for schooling. As the rains come the fires will again cease, but it only makes reforestation here in Madagascar even more challenging.

7K South of Ambalona

With the rains also comes stagnant water, and with stagnant water comes a significant spike in mosquito populations. So right now many volunteers including myself are briefing our community on malaria's symptoms and its prevention. Here in Madagascar, malaria accounts for 15 percent of all hospital visits, however due to its cyclical nature many cases go untreated thus increasing the number of human hosts that can thus transmit it to new mosquito carriers, further increasing the prevalence of malaria in the region. The first step we take is to inform communities about how to prevent exposure to malaria carrying mosquitoes (bed nets, neem cream, closed windows at night) and how to prevent breeding environments (covering water buckets,), then we inform them about its symptoms and treatment. We currently are doing this with community murals, and neem cream and bed net installation demonstration. This preparation is all leading to an upcoming bed net distribution which will help achieve the goals set forth in the President's Malaria Initiative which aims to cut Africa's malaria related deaths in half over 10 years.

They get a free paint job too

Salama 

Nick

Infrastructure: Needs Improvement

When I left you last I was Manakara bound on train that an amalgam of Chris Van Allsburg and Rudyard Kipling couldn't have possibly conceived.  We arrived on time at the station, 7:00 AM sharp, however in keeping with cultural norms the train had been rescheduled to depart at 11:00 AM.  See that there still was no train present in the station, we assumed that one could quite possible arrive and be ready to depart within 4 hours.  As the station slowly gathered a crowd of aimless pedestrians, produce, and passengers the novelty of the train ride had already been tarnished.  But then at 1:30 PM we were granted access to the platform, much in the same way cattle are herded into a rodeo.  I, like any carless PCV had brought my bike along, and thinking that this being a train I assumed that there would be ample room for it onboard.  However the one box car on train was already stuffed with rice, carrots, and an unfathomable amount of leeks.  Thus at this point I was informed that I would have to pay an additional 4000Ar to transport my bike; not too shocking but not really necessary either.  Then there was the icing when an additional 400Ar was demanded to purchase the rope to tie my bike to God knows where on the train; "Run It!"  We managed to secure our seats in the first class car, which translates to a chicken free environment complete with a bathroom that lacks any respect for the crossties bellow.  At approximately 3:30 PM the diesel electric beast lumbered out of the station, an understandable eight and a half hours late.

We found ourselves sharing our seats with a man one would swear to be Anthony Bourdain.  Apart from looks, Serge also travelled light, immersed himself in the culture; even if that means cramming into a taxi brousse with 24 other people and some chickens, and avoided the typical travel guide hotspots.  Needless to say we quickly became friends, discussing Madagascar's flora and fauna and its culture.  But as the sun began to set only two hours into the train ride there really wasn't much to look at, other than the passengers and poor condition of the train car.  It was at this time that we were informed that we had only covered 20K of an over 200K long journey, would we ever make it to Manakara and at what time.  The train cuts its way through the remaining rainforest between Fianar and the coast, and for many it is the only way to access their villages.  Thus frequent stops were made throughout the night, and it wasn't quite clear whether or not they were for passengers or repairs.  However the stillness of the forest did allow me to catch a few Zs here and there.  In a sleep deprived delirium we disembarked the train in Manakara at 4:30 AM only 13 hours later.  The same journey via taxi brousse takes a mere 6 hours and is half the price but nowhere nearly as memorable.

Returning to my site, I discovered that the drought we had staved off was still in effect.  We scrambled to preserve the harvest of tomatoes and cabbage but it became quite clear that there is not enough water at the current location to continue gardening beyond August.  Never one to accept defeat we developed and smaller satellite garden close to the river.  With an ample water supply we can continue grow vegetables for the school's lunch program, and the two garden system allows us to teach fallow and compost cropping techniques.  After this development we really started to consider the evolution of this program, and where the next volunteer and generation of students will take it from here.  Right now we're building the foundation and for now that means nurturing the soil, and planting trees for tomorrow's shade.

While the people of Ambalona and I have been hard at work improving our food security, I can't quite say that Madagascar's department of public works has been doing quite the same.  I recently travelled to down to Matanga to help a fellow volunteer build a fence for his school garden program.  Upon arriving in Matanga after biking a horrendous 30K. I was faced with unique challenge.  There is a river and while there is a bridge it's not exactly what one considers passable.  For the time being it's for pedestrian traffic only, although it used to accept motor vehicles, however when you have a bike, with saddlebags that are loaded tools, carrying it across several rusty I-beams laid out disintegrating pillars that suspend you 15ft above pongee stick laden water doesn’t seem like a good idea; fiainana.

It's actually Two Lanes

Then in other news, the steel truss bridge to ManakaraBe that I frequently traverse, one who's conditions resembles the bridges of VT's NEK, recently collapsed into the canal.  A truck loaded down with salt on its way to the ocean of all places, caused the French era steel to fail claiming the lives of two cows below.  Fortunately no one else was harmed, and in Gasy fashion the bridge is actually still passable, just not by cars anymore but if you like you can take a boat across for 200Ar ($.09).  I'll let you know how the repairs are coming along in about a month.

Periodic Maintenance is Overrated

Salama

Nick

Bright Lights, Big City, Bad Cabs

The last two weeks have been quite a journey and all that remains before I get back to work is a day’s train ride to Manakara and 100K brousse ride back to Ambalona. It was only last Thursday that I embarked on a two day journey to the nation's capital Anatananarivo (Tana). The first leg brought me to Fianar in about 6 hours while the second spanned over 12 hours. Fortunately when traveling far by brousse you have the option of going national, where there are restrictions on the number of passengers and the seats have more padding, headrests, but still no seatbelts. We managed to reserve a brousse with some other volunteers, so I can't say it was bad ride. In the stupor that crystallizes after living on a brousse all day, we pulled into the station in Tana. Pure chaos, from the pos-pos (rickshaw) drivers to the mpivaratras (merchants), everyone was looking for some good ol' western cash. We managed to convince the driver to drop us and all of gear off at the MEVA (PC's transit house) for less than the price of several tin can cabs.  

Squash Update

Now a little word about the cabs. Madagascar has the fine privilege of hosting a collection of some of France's finest automobiles and Tana's is by far the most extensive. There's the new age Peugeot 205, 405, and 505; there are Renault 4s with the most innovative or obtuse gear lever ever produced; and there's the legendary Citroën 2CV which is quite possibly the worst car ever produced, and the setting for one of the most entertaining cab rides yet. It was a Saturday afternoon, and the thick petrol laden air was just getting up to operating temperature in the big city. We descended into the bajary without any specific needs, but merely to try and grasp the controlled chaos that is everyday life. We haggled with the mpivaratras over dominoes, batteries, fruit, and anything else that caught our eye; we took rain checks on street meat, street tattoos, and street names. After nearly two hours we found ourselves in need of ride back to the hotel. After browsing the line of cabs, we based our decision, not on the quality of the car but on the car we most wanted to ride in. Until this moment I had still been denied the pleasure of riding in a Citroën 2CV. This legendary automobile has even rallied across Europe's worst roads; only unlike our cab it featured a second 25HP engine to solely drive the second axel. Our first discovery was that the driver's side rear door was inoperable, and we thus proceeded to the other side. The driver pressed the starter button, then pressed the starter button, and finally pressed the starter button and the Craftsmen lawnmower came to life. The two speed transmission harnessed nearly half of the engines HP and we limped onto the main drag; our destination, the Hotel Zenith. As the 2CV wiggled along the cobble stone streets, our driver informed us that he didn't know where the Zenith hotel was. We quickly determined that this could very well become a bad situation; almost like driving a 2CV through Nazi occupied France. We proceeded to stop and ask every legitimate citizen for directions, however due to the variety of pronunciations for Zenith, it was to no avail. At this point while we tried to communicate our basic understanding of the cities geography our driver informed us that this was "Tena taybe!" that no one knew where the hotel was. Luckily with the aid of a few landmarks our trusty steed crawled up to the curb of the Hotel Zenith.  

This is Eloi, he's about 2 backpacks tall

After a week of training up in Montasoa, where we learned how to farm chickens, access PC funding, and remedy any language woes; we returned to the Zenith in order to regroup for the next day’s journey home. We hailed a Renault 4 and headed to the brousse station with a bit too much luggage. We lugged our baggage over to our brousse and threw it up on the roof where it combined with everything from sacks of rice to chickens. Out of the corner of my eye I witnessed a portly Gasy man who had a strange resemblance to Jon Lovitz. We crammed in the brousse and so did this man, only in the driver's seat. We worked our way out of the city and were once again southbound on the RN7. At this point Jon Lovitz engaged his clubbing sunglasses, his top 40 aftermarket stereo, and his high center of gravity hyperdrive. I can say that we made Fianar in record time but I can also say that I'm quite familiar with the smell burning brakes and rubber.

Above the Fianar's Crowded Streets

Yesterday we found a little free time in Fianar to enjoy a favorite Gasy pastime, music. Just down the road from the Fianar MEVA, Oladad played to a growing crowd over the course of the afternoon. They warmed up with some Marley standards then bust out into their own Gasy infused reggae derivative. The music and dance more than warranted my attendance but I can't say that I would have run into my new friend Vincent if I hadn't gone.

This is Vincent, he retired from the VTSP a few years ago

Tomorrow I head south via rail, the train runs every other day and should take anywhere from 8 to 20 hours to arrive in Manakara. I anticipating something similar to the The Darjeeling Limited but we'll have to wait and see.

Salama

Nick

Vingt Seis. It's like Christmas, Easter, and The Fourth of July all rolled up into one!

As we Americans celebrate that special day when we eat too much potato salad, have a few too many chardonnays, and set off a few next month's rent in Chinese fireworks; the Malagasy in my neck of the woods are still celebrating their independence which officially began on the 26th of June. I can't say that I saw much potato salad going around, but there were definitely some fireworks and I think their technicians may have over imbibed. Today, however a few local volunteers and myself are fashioning the best fourth yet most atypical that Madagascar can offer.

Ambalona's School Gardens

When the festivities come to a close I will return to Ambalona and break ground on some new beds for the school garden. I have outlined the gardening space and taken an inventory of the current vegetables being grown, and it's with this information that I am working together with the people of Ambalona and my counterpart in order to determine: the prime growing season for each vegetable, which vegetables should be grown in succession, and how we can manage their production with minimal inputs. I'm very fortunate that a majority of the infrastructure and interest is already present in my community thanks in part to Fidy, but there's plenty of tuning required and that's where I lend my green thumb. I've managed to fence out the curious chickens from my yard in which I have constructed to date three 2x8 raised beds out of bamboo. Everyday as people pass by they often stop and to see what I've actually got growing and we end up chatting about vegetables how it's actually possible to grow them with ease. It's in these beds that I'm doing some preliminary testing of bio-intensive technique that I hope to apply on larger scale within the community. The children are among the most interested, whether I'm transplanting seedlings or they're sneaking into my compost pile. One of my little buddies Eloi has really taken to it and we planted some zucchini in a garden he built, I'll update you in a month.

So this is my yard, I'm puting in the lawn next week

Apart from gardening I've had the opportunity to connect with some highly valuable resources in my region. Recently I tracked down a pepinaire (tree nursery) in Mananjary with whom I can see my village developing a strong customer relationship. Together with a CRS (Catholic Relief Services) lead reforestation effort, there's plenty work to be done and a surprisingly large amount of people that want to help do it.

Gaspar my Chef du Fokontany and I discuss how to make Parker House Rolls from rice 

On the home front I've managed to build myself a table which enables me to prepare, cook, and eat my food at an elevation 32" above the floor; the previous location of my stove. I still have plans for a second table, but I'm still living in high life from the first upgrade. I've installed bamboo gutters on the back of my house, which await the installation of a rain barrel that I have yet to procure. My gardens has become rather thirsty over the past month, and an alternative water source is definitely necessary to keep up. I'll keep you'll posted as the squash takes over my garden.

Salama

Nick

A Green Thumb

After experiencing some unexpected technical difficulties last month, I am proud to finally bring all of you an update on the happenings of my life. Over the course of the last two months I have been fortunate enough to work with some amazing individuals, and they're are still many that I'm eager to work with in the future. Currently I am overseeing the development and care of a newly constructed vegetable garden for my community's EPP (primary school). We are currently building and sowing new garden beds in preparation for the kick off of the EPP's new school lunch program. Not only will the garden provide vegetables that are typically absent from the students diets but it also provides a learning environment for the students. Just this past week I led a session on composting, and with the help of 12 students was able to construct a pile in record time. So far the garden's become a big hit and it's also an alternative for those students that are a little too distracted in the average classroom setting.

Many Hands Make Light Work

On the home front, I've just started to enjoy the fruits of my labor; green beans are coming in, and I've got some squash around the corner. My personal garden's the test bed for some of new planting techniques we're working on, this way we can keep our eggs in in few different baskets. Construction wise I managed to finish building a wooden wheel for one of our communities wheelbarrows and it can dance with True Temper's best. It's constructed from eucalyptus and finished with the remains of used moto tire; don't have to worry about any punctures on this baby. Two weeks ago I traveled to my counterparts forge and while there I first ran the bellows then tried my hand at nails and finally learned how to make a hax-saw from some old rebar. Then this last week I managed to take part on a concrete pour, the old fashioned way with bags of portland cements, aggregate, sand, and plenty of hand mixing. I couldn't tell you what the slump was, but I did manage to leave a quality finish with the only float available, a trowel.

 

Fidy's Forge

I've got to run to catch my brousse back Ambalona but I be back with pictures and news next week when I head back up to Montasoa for training with the other new volunteers.

Salama

Nick

Efa Tamana

Well I'm writing to you'll now from Mananjary, my banking town; where apart from stocking up on all things not beans and rice, I have been also getting seeds together for my garden and looking for materials to repair my community wheelbarrow.  I was welcomed immediately to Ambalona, located within the commune of Sandrohy by the majority of its able bodied residents fast at work repairing its washed out road.  The road which has still yet to recover from the cyclone, gives Vermont's mud season a run for it's money; and while back home there isn't much a dump truck and grader can't do, their isn't much a spade toting village can't do either.  We rolled up to my house and the initial shock took hold, but thinking quickly as half the village gathered round the PC truck, I started dishing out pound-its to all the kids.  My house which had been kind of a mystery, soon had swarm of workers making last minute repairs and even starting my fence; which is still incomplete.  I met with my counterpart Fidy hopeformadagascar.org  and Gaspar the Chef du Fokotany of Ambalona, essentially a Malagasy Mayor.  This was followed by a village tour, and a complementary meal of rice and beans served with coffee.  After a surreal first day I went off into that dark first night.

Dishing out Dunas

There have been many surreal days and dark nights since that first one, but while there have been ups and downs I've learned a lot about myself, my community, and just how different life is on the other side of the world.  I've spent the first two weeks making friends over small engine repair, washing my laundry by the river's edge and scanning for crocs all the while, fashioning my own tool handles in the vein of Alone in The Wilderness, dawning my village colors on the football pitch, building raised bed gardens out of bamboo, smuggling pork into my village, helping with the care of the school's gardens, fetching water from a pump 1/4 mile away from my home, training for the Tour du France, making the best fish'n'chips the bush can offer, and above all carving out that little place where I can be home away from home.

Salama

Nick

Sworn In and Site Bound

Well it's been over a month since my last post but much has happened in April alone.  When we last left off, I was awaiting my site anouncement; which I have since received and as I write this am en route to.  I will working in the Fokotany of Ambalona which is located in bertween the coastal cities of Mankara and Mananjary, the latter being my banking town which is about a 90 minute journey by taxi-brousse.  I will be starting a brand new site and will be partnered with Hope for Madagascar (HFM). HFM is an NGO that was started by Malagasy-Americans, and is based currently headquatered in Boulder, CO.  They working a variety of sectors, but the majority of work centeres around evironmental education and construction projects.  There will be many oppourtunities to work along side them on existing projects, but also the freedom to develop projects pertinent to my community's needs.

Following the anouncement our sites, each sector of our Peace Corps Stage headed on technical field trip.  As a member of the environment sector I travelled to Andasibe, where we hiked through a section of VOI managed rain forest; then a brief stay in Tamatave, where we visited the lemurs at neighboring Ivolina park; after that we headed to Foulpointe, a small coastal town with sandy beaches, and a neighboring protected area managed by Missouri Botanical Gardens.  We returned to the training center with a new zeal for our service and made the final push through language and technical training.

Mornings in Foulpointe are about as rough as the surf

As I write this it's hard to believe that the first itiminating 9 weeks of training have come to a close and that I am now finally on the way to my site, which I will call home for the next 2 years.  The first chapter of my adventure has come to a close and it's time to start writing the pages I've been waiting for.  I'll be spending tonight in Fianar and tomorrow we will make the push to Mananjary, where'll try to get my hands on all the bear-necessities: hammer & nails, pots & pans, rice & beans, and of course dines.  As for my house, it's a fixer-upper, and I'm not sure if I'll even be able to move into it by the end of this week; we'll leave it on that cliffhanger for now.

Salama

Nick

Manahoana!

Manahoana (Malagasy for hello) everyone thanks again for all the wishes, and thanks to them I have arrived safely in Madagascar after nearly three days of travel, which seems so distant now.  I arrived in Antananarivo on Thursday March 1st sand was welcomed by the most recent cyclones trailing rains.  We met up with our PC contacts at the airport: John Reddy, Country Director; Dr. Chad, PCMO; PC corps staff drivers; and some current volunteers.  We loaded our gear into some military grade Toyota Landcruisers, and began our journey to the PC training center in Montasoa (some 2 1/2 hours away).  We scurried along twisting roads up into the highland, passing buses, cattle and other hazards along the way.  We arrived at the training center, where we would catch a well deserved meal and rest.  We would spend the next few days at the training center preparing for our home-stay in the neighboring villages of Montasoa and Anjozoro.

Since Sunday March 4th I have had privilege of  living in Anjozoro with a host family beyond my expectations.  The mother, Lova was the only member present when I arrived, but since then I have met her husband Regis, a carpenter in Tana, and her son Dieu Donne, an engineering student in Tana.  There was a initial shock moving to a village where most of the days hours are spent preparing dinner, but after nearly a month it all seems familar; the rooster crows, I wake up, go to the well and get my first bucket of water, heat some of it up and take a fairly brisk shower.  Food has been a bit of an adjustment.  Rice is eaten at least twice a day and that alone takes some getting used to, but on the other hand pineapples are currently in season and we eat them for dessert everyday.  Today however was an exception, because for the first time, the volunteers got together and cooked meals for their families; we made a chile and my neighboring volunteer showed her expertise by making some apple crisp.

In short, it's already been a month and I've learned and experienced so much.  For those of you waiting on pictures I have some but they'll have to wait because the internet a bit too moramora (slow) here to post them.  Oh and this coming Monday we get our site assignments, so I'll finally know what I'll be doing and where!

Salama

Nick