Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Frank Van Rijn: novelist, cyclist, journeyman

One of the greatest advantages of living off of one of the best paved roads in Madagascar, between two regional capitals, is that I cross paths with so many fascinating individuals. As always, I was having my morning coffee on the side of the highway when a cyclist stopped by the market to purchase a papaya.

The fruit ladies quickly ran to me to translate what he was saying. He was lean and nearly two meters tall. He sported a white beard and raggedy tee-shirt. His skin had been darkened numerous shades by the scorching Malagasy sun, as indicated by the tan line left by his sock. He was clearly not like any other tourist I have ever seen. I asked him where he was from in French and when he answered Holland I excitedly switched to English. I glanced at his bicycle which had numerous baggages tied around the front wheel as well as back. He had been touring Madagascar for nearly two months. I thought perhaps this was an adventure he had planned for when he had retired. No. He had been touring the world on bike for over thirty years, having already visited 125 different nations. This wasn’t just a vacation, this was a lifestyle choice. I asked him his name and he pointed to the print on his bike frame. Frank Van Rijn, what a pleasure to meet you.

Since he was unsure if he could find a hotel before sunset I invited him to pitch a tent in my extra room. I was also intrigued to hear more about his adventures abroad. After telling him of the different species of lemurs that live in my national park we decided to search for some. We trekked through the forest snacking on mangos while at the same time trying to dodge the ones that dropped down from above. It was a nice hike despite not having spotted any lemurs. I was also impressed at how much energy he still had after having already biked nearly fifty kilometers in blistering heat. I suppose all these years of biking had physically conditioned him.

Images of Indiana Jones popped up in my mind as he told tales of being held up by gunpoint in El Salvador, robbed by a man with a machete in Burkina Faso, being captured by a liberation organization in Mozambique, to having narrowly escaped flying axes thrown by bandits in India. His life is nothing short of a legend.

After graduating from university with a degree in electrical engineering he decided to take a gap year to travel through South, Central, and North America. After returning he taught science for nine months before deciding to get back on the bike. “this wasn’t a conscious decision to make this my career. It just happened like that,” he tells me. Loving the freedom and closeness with nature and people that you don’t get using any other form of transportation, its no surprise he opts to ride the bike.

He’s shared a glimpse of his experience in the eleven books he’s authored in Dutch. I complained when he told me that only one is available in English translation, Pilgrims and Peppers. “You can make beautiful books, with beautiful illustrations, and beautiful binding, but they may not be read by many if the book promoter is no good,” he states emphatically. I learned more about the complexities of the book industry after he described some of his frustrations with finding a publisher for an American or English public. I really hope his books will be translated not only in English but in several languages, as I believe his stories need to be told. It is not enough to know about our own environment in which we live. He offers a window into many different worlds through his own eyes and through his words fostering tolerance and humanity.

visit his website as well as keep updated on his current movement:

http://www.frankvanrijn.nl/?page_id=4&lang=en

Monday, October 17, 2011

Good-bye Dear Onion

I’ve focused most of my blogs primarily on cultural observations since sometimes it’s difficult to write on matters relating to work without touching upon more sensitive issues, such as money and why the people I work with have little to none. And thus, what forces prevent them from improving their lives economically. Admittedly, I spent Sunday night crying over the phone to my sister all the way in Italy. She made me realize after this conversation that the only way I could help anyone is if I got it together, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and understand that I am one person and that these problems existed before me and will take a long time to overcome.

I go to the pavilion that was just built recently on the main highway to my village, every morning to talk to the ladies that are part of the microenterprises I work with. There was recently an exposition there, showcasing the high-grade Oriental onions that my women’s microenterprise produces. I was surprised to see a semi-truck there loading up large sacks of these onions. The buyers were taking advantage of the recent harvest and were ready to sell these onions for a marked up price, reaping a profit near the capital city. I froze when I heard the price they were receiving per kilo. The ladies knew that their crops were worth more but they had to compensate for the recent costs of tuition fees to send their children to school. I know what your thinking,
“same old story of the farmer being exploited, its sad but its life”. But, these are my friends, I play with their children, some of them have even adopted me into their families. I’ve been out to the onion fields with them so many times over these last five months clearing field, planting, transplanting, watering, harvesting. I almost feel an ownership over these crops too. I was almost in tears, but to upset and frustrated to cry as the sacks were lifted over a large balance and numbers were recorded. The lady in charge of the operation was dodging my questions and answering my questions which were in Malagasy in rapid French, and since I don’t really speak French as well as Malagasy upsetting since she was Malagasy. She told me that the price she was giving them is the market price for onions, and that I could check this is I was still in disbelief. Of course with my frequent access to internet and electricity this is possible.

I felt guilty for letting this truck roll away with much of the crop that my community labored so hard over. But after talking to Constance, who has been my saving grace, and my program director I know now that I have to move forward and not dwell on what can’t be changed. And by doing this I use this experience as a lesson learned; to educate about saving, planning ahead, and costing and pricing in my community.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Checkpoint

So according to statistics the highest number of early termination volunteers occurs within the first three months of being at site. Probably since this is when the realization that this will be your life for the next two years finally sinks in. But I am proud to say that all 38 of my colleagues turned up at our in-service training in Mantasoa (just 30 km. outside of the capital Tana). After catching up with most of everyone I realized I wasn't alone in all of my struggles. There were those who had it even harder than me. Without mentioning names I learned that people were being terrorized by fleas and parasites, hit by fast-moving vehicles, throat operations, harassment by strange Malagasy men/ women, and constantly being asked for money since people mistake all vizaha for having money. One thing I am grateful of is that I learned all of this through the voices of the individuals versus through the "Peace Corps grapevine" as we call it. Living in remote isolation compared to other already remotely isolated volunteers has allowed me to hide away from petty intigue and gossip which has actually been quite rewarding. Seeing so many vizaha (foreigners) in one place after many months of not seeing anyone from my stage but Cecilia (closest neighbor to me, by close i mean 90 km) was incredible anxiety building. But overall it was really nice to see everyone again. I found the information gained at IST pretty useful, and now I feel like I have a clearer picture of what direction I want to move my service. The fact that we were given an opportunity to investigate our sites using Community Development Surveying techniques over the past five months made this training much more relevant as far as technical training than PST (pre-service training). A leading expert in fruit science/ preservation techniques Fonsa came to speak to us since many of us do work with fruit growers or confiture microenterprises. I work with both groups, so I found what she had to say particularly interesting. I learned more about bee-keeping, very useful since my community asked me to investigate further. Plus, numerous other guest speakers and volunteers offered their advice, expertise, and experience.