Mahamdromata - Building Latrine for local hospital

Well I’m back in one piece. Thrilled to bits at the prospect of a meal that does not consist of rice and beans, and the ability to have a cold drink when I want, but also super proud of my team and the completion of our Hospital latrine building project in Mahamdromata.
The small Fukuntani (village) that we were working in was only 17 kilometers away from Fort Dauphin but it took over an hour to get there as the roads were so full of pot holes and the vehicles are so old. Our camp was desolate at best. The only shade was provided by two heavy, holey canvas tarps that did nothing to keep out the furnace-like wind and little to protect us from the driving tropical rain. We fondly refered to home-sweet-home as ‘the Sahara’. The one good thing was that the Sahara also doubled as a football pitch (can you tell I’ve been with Brits for the last 4 weeks) so almost every evening we were treated to a fantastic game of footy (soccer) by a troop of men that, Rich correctly pointed out, could all be featured on the cover of Men’s Health. The games were a nice evening distraction from the evening meals of Kidney beans, Bullet Beans, Butter beans, White beans, lentils, Black eyed beans ect. (you get the point).
Every morning we would get up at 5:30. Now this sounds early, but seriously I never used an alarm, or really even groaned at getting up. It’s not easy to sleep in when the rooster has been crowing since 3am, the children are staring from the other side of the rope that designates our personal space, and calling Salama Vahaza (Good morning white person) and the sun is quickly turning your slumber into a personal sauna. We all eagerly elected to start work at 6:30 rather than 7am because the sun was scorching and the sweat running by the time breakfast was finished.
Work was hard. The tools were crap when they were first used two years ago. They are now far beyond what we would consider garbage. I quickly realized that we are called Pioneers (the name of the groups that volunteer with Azafady) because we do things like pioneers in the 1600s in North America did. Cutting wood for a building with hand saws, making cement slap reinforcement but cutting rebar by hand and tying it together with wire, and chiseling eucalyptus wood with a wooden hammer to slot the pieces together for the frame of the building. There are three reasons for the simplicity of the tools. One: No power (none for cold beer after work either). Two: No money, even Azafady is poor by NGO standards. Three: Even if there was the money, the tools, even decent paint and certain colours, are simply not available here. There are no Home Depots.
We worked until 10:30 every morning unless the work was time sensitive. As in another load of cement needed to go down or it would dry. By the way: Has anyone ever mixed cement with shovels? Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of it, until you can’t lift your arms? Insane! And then we actually made the cinder blocks ourselves, with molds. And often your carefully turned out block would crumble at your feet and you would have to scoop it all up with your hands and go back to the pit and pack it all again! We did a lot of cement mixing the first two weeks to frame the walls of the sewers. Then we made the metal rebars for the floor and then we built the hut for the latrine at the top. I tell you I’ve never been so proud of a shitter in my life. And Dad you are so going to have a picture of it framed on your bathroom wall! From 10:30 until 2pm we had a Malagash lesson, ate rice and beans, and hid as best we could from the mid-day sun. We also went the river (don’t get excited, it was pretty stagnant and smelly) to collect water for our evening bucket showers. The afternoon work continued until around 4:30. At that time we crawled back to camp and enjoyed a few hours of cool and clean, watched an amazing sunset, and gazed at the billions and billions of stars!
It was hard, but it was so rewarding. The group is fantastic. Rachel is a darling, so innocent and lovely. Nina is just 18 and very intelligent and opinionated. She will learn a lot about the way of the world from us older ones in the group. Elsbeth is freaking hilarious, super sarcastic and always making us laugh (she is with the lemur in the bottom picture). She and Rich decided they were going to be a trailer trash couple ‘Britney and BillyBob’ and it was a running joke for days and we all talked in trailer trash accents. “Oh Billybob, I love the way you hammer that nail.” Kathrine is also great fun and she has some fantastic stories from her days of working at FHM! Rich is more than we could ask for in a token American man. He’s enthusiastic, loves to laugh, never grumpy, totally cool with all the girl talk , and quite anti Bush. I’ve got friends for life here.
The children were enthralled with us and dozens of them followed us everywhere, imitating our actions and learning our names and calling them every time we passed. (the picture below is all the kids watching while we set up our tents) One afternoon we performed a thoroughly embarrassing play about pooing near your water source and getting bacteria in the water and getting sick with diarrhea. Then we sang a song in Malagash about washing your hands before you ate and after you pooed. They really loved it and I hope it will stick in there minds long after we leave.
We have had a few fantastic days off here too, and one crazy night out! We went to a nature reserve and got to visit with some very friendly lemurs and tortoises, as well as quietly drift down a tropical river in a small boat. The day was also more hilarious than normal, because we were quite hungover! The last two Sundays we have traveled two beautiful beaches, and I must say my tan is coming along fantastically. The surf is great too, although so far I’ve only been on a boogie board.
I was asked by my roommate just before I left what I really though I could do to help in Africa. He meant what can you do for them that they can’t or shouldn’t do for themselves? I said I would get back to him and now I can. The first is, of course, the money. These people are so very very poor. I saw this quite heart achingly as we were leaving camp yesterday and all our carefully collected garbage was dumped in a shallow hole. Before we had a chance to cover it up dozens of children and some adults were digging through. A foot of rope could be untwined to make three feet of rope. A discarded pamphlet makes good toilet paper. A tic-tac container holds small items, a tin can will be flattened to patch a roof..ect. But also, simply by being here, by showing the effort and taking the time to come all the way from our respective countries to build a latrine for the community and the sick people in hospital they appreciate the importance of what we are doing and the heart that is behind it. The work we did will especially resonate with children, most of whom, for the rest of there lives, will remember those weeks when the Vahaza came to town and built that loo.

Fort Dauphin

Hello from Southern Madagscar!

Well I apologise for the the delay in letting you know what I'm up to. We've had a very very busy few days and schuduled email time was yesterday, but all of a sudden the regional government declared a bank holiday and everything shut. Only in Madagascar!

I also appologise for this blog. Its going to be a bit rushed. I've got a welcome party to go to!

The week I had in 'Tana' continued to be fantastic. I made loads of friends and spent time being invited over for lunch and meeting families as well as touring rural 'Tana'. The people are wonderful and the only complaint I would have is the way the men percieve the mythical female Vahazava (white person). Every majority country (my newly adopted term for third world etc. will explain later) I have ever been to has had a perception that I have more money than I actually do. But here the men absolutely expect you to pay, and I learnt this the hard way. Over and over, actually. For example, I was invited out for pool and dinner with one of the guys that worked at the hostel, he was quite aware of the fact that I had no money as he was the one that helped me make numerous calls to visa to try and get a replacement card (which happens to be in Moldovia now thanks to UPS). Anyway to make a long story short he and his three friends throughout the evening, pretended to put gas in the car, which I contributed to. Then they didn't have the right change for pool, so I paid; then I paid for dinner, because no one else offered and I figured it would be nice of me since they were taking me out. Then I was asked to pitch in a little more to drive me home, which i did, but they wouldnt' drive up the hill...as it wasted to much gas! Another friend insisted on escorting me home from his neighborhood on the bus, which I paid for, and then when we got to be hotel he said goodbye and informed me he didn't have cash for the return trip!!! Each time it was a different reason and in total is was prob only $15, but still rather anoying.

The majority world: The majority of people live in a world like the one I am experiencing right now, the minority live in our world. I much prefer this term as up until now I have found all others inadiquate.

The rest of the group that I will be with for the next 9 and a half weeks are fantastic. I will deffinately be talking like a Brit when i get back though, I've already got the upwards lilt at the end of my sentances. We are only 6 which I've learned is super small for Azafady standards. The last group was 20! I really glad we are small, we will get so much more out of the experiance.

Rachel is 22 and has done a lot of voluntering and traveling around the world. She has a degree in Internatinal development and french and is super keen about everything. She's always cheerful and loves to laugh. Catherine has been working in fashion mags in London and has also done a lot of travelling, she is closest in age to me and we have a lot of similar experiences. We've had some great chats already. Elsbeth is a farm girl from rural england and did her degree in Environmental Science specializing in Soil! We've already become really close and giggle through our tent walls at night. Nina is the youngest and is super geared out for the trip - she's only 18 but is super mature and very well spoken. Richard of course is our token man and token American. He is completly unfased that he is here with 5 girls and is really easy going and taking it all in with awe as he has never been out of the country. In all we've joked and giggle our way through the last few days but on the other end everyone is hardy and super keen to be here. Brett, the founder, mentioned that he has never seen such a studious group, we've all been taking notes at every lecture.

Azafady itself is brilliant. If I felt like I chooe the right organization before I left I feel it 10 times more now. Our schedule for the next 9 weeks is pretty tight but we are spending this week aclimatizing and learning the intricacies about the organization. Every morning and afternoon we have a detailed lecture on different aspects of the organizatyion (Environment, Health and Sanitation, Welcome from the founder, etc. Because we are only 6 we won't be building a school but our first project is out in a very rural community (fucuntani) building a latrine for their hospital. We do everything right from mixing the cement for bricks to digging the hole. The camp is going to be super basic and I'm hoping that I can cope with my way to tiny tiny tent. The camp is in a beatiful location at the base of some amazing mountains. And there are beaches everywhere although most of them we are not allowed to swim at. Including the lake across the road as there are crocadiles in it.

The food is basic. Rice and beans, Rice and beans, Rice and beans. They told us to 'get used to it'. We are very well taken care of though, and the camp here is quite lovely. Especially since there are only 6 of us. We are quite overly secured (i have a gaurd with me now) and I'm trying hard not to rebel.

I'm a little concerned about they state of my body when I come out of the bush. We've been told that we will definatley get tropical ulcers, likely get malaria, and that it may rain for two weeks straight! By the way this is the last time I will be able to email until we return on the 4th of Feb!

I'm learning about the Malagsy culture and about what is fady (taboo). You cannot point, buy salt after dark, or touch dogs. Also they will not tell you what to do, only suggest, so I have to be extra carefull to follow the guides as they will suggest something..and I'll say no thanks...and then realize that I have to do what they suggest. I hope I don't get in trouble..you know what I'm like with rules!

Anyway I'm going to have to run, I haven't even had a chance to read this over, check the spelling, or load any more pics. But I love you all and Thank you so much for making this wonderful wonderful experiance possible.

A day of Vistas and Visas

I'm here! And I just spent the last 5 minutes trying to find the exclamation mark on this keyboard! (got it now, but i tell ya these keys are in all the wrong places... i have become a hunt and pecker and for some bloody reason I have to hold the shiftkey down for a period????) Just another twist on the complications of very foreign travel i guess.

So New Years was a dud (with a lowercase d). Taneth, my lovely South African seat neighbor, and I were determined to have a glass of champagne... but in reality we woke up a few hours after the GMT Newyears... said our thing...and then drifted off into another uncomfortable verticle snooze. Actually, I lucked out on companions on the planes... the flight to London was swallowed up immediatly in great conversation with Jan (omg I hope that was his name) from the Netherlands. We gossiped on love, life, the universe, and everything and he realy solidified my belief in loveing life's unexpected twists and the neccisary admiration of the opposite sex. Thank you.

Antananarivo (Tana for short) is sureal! The streets are hillier than i could ever hope, and they twist and turn along with endless dillapidated, narrow stairways that lead you through peoples backyards (like our catwalks I suppose), around palaces, and a Melina church where Christians where hurled off the cliff by the 19th century phycopathic queen (an easy way out by her standards) . It seemed like a labyrinth of cobbled delirious streets, but getting lost would be hard (with my sense of direction) because there were frequent an expansive viewpoints, and at every corner you were presented with another winding option. Ahh...my heaven! The buildings are fantastic and just as patchwork as everything else in this city. Ancient tiled rooves, Italian grottos, ironwork balconies, colourful shutters, corogated iron shacks with boulders to hold the roof on and cactuses and bougainvillea the size of houses twisting around much of it.

Yesterday afternoon I wandered down an incredibly long and steep flight of stairs to le Avenue de Independance, usually the central market place. It swarmed with chains of hand-holding children celebrating the New Year. There were activities everywhere but the focus seemed to be the 50 or so booths set up like cheesy Christmas livingrooms for family pictures...each with the prerequsite Santa, Christmas tree, ghettoblaster and motorbike (insert odd decoration here). I've seen two backpackers in two days, and I explained to Hassin (a helpful boy with great english, that invited me to a lively game of twilight ringtoss), our very lame (i discovered in the explanation) saying of standing out like a sore thumb. It should be converted to..like a western woman in Tana :)

Today I made another older friend, Dave, who calmingly lead me through searching for and attempting to cancel my inexplicably lost Visa card. Thank you Visa for creating 100 numbers for 100 other countries where people may loose their visa card but none for Madagascar. They did helpfully give my mom the same "toll free" number that very deffinatly does not work from here, luckily I am assured that no one here knows how to use a visa card???

After our card adventure we wandered the streets and attempted, but failed to get lost in the wondorous higglty piggtly of it all. We then sat down in a cozy cafe where I ate a whole fried fish (head and all) and we enjoyed far too many THB (Three Horse Beer, Malagasy speciality! 1us dollor for a big bottle).

I think I'm going to be spending the next week in this incredible city, (absolutely nothing to do with an immediate loss of access to funds) practicing my french and Malagasy, exploring the winding streets, beautiful, friendly people, and fantastic views of an ancient city surrounded by flooded rice fields that glint in the wavering wet-season sun. I can't wait!!!!!!!! (i know where it is now).