To all mothers

Yesterday marked the annual celebration of Mother's Day in Madagascar. My village held a large celebration that began at noon and lasted well after sunset. The festivities included my mayor holding an elongated kabary (speach) at the commune as the women sat poised in their brightly colored lambas on the podium. This was followed by the consumption of cases of THB (local beer). This was one day in which the women could take a break from their daily routines and kick back. The women in my village possess so much strength and character despite the numerous hardships they are confronted with. One of my best friends is twenty but already a mother of three, the oldest being 5. She cooks three meals a day, raises income for her family by making peanut brittle, fried bananas, and sews rugs; yet manages to care dilligently and teach her children morals. I admire her so much and am inspired tremendously by her.

Even though I've only been living in my village for two and a half weeks I feel already very tamana (or at home). I feel that mostly everyone has gotten over the novelty of having a vizaha living amongst them and are now taking the time to try to get to know me versus stand and gawk, run away, or giggle uncomfortably at me. There are two little girls in particular Zipe and Donella age 11, who consistently wait outside my home calling my name until I come out. They've become some of my greatest assets here since they patiently teach my Gasy and about Malagasy fomba (culture) in language that is understandable for me. For example when I was passing by an elderly woman's home she attempted to sell me papaya. Latter on Zipe whispers to me that its good that I didn't buy the papaya since the women is a mpamosavy (witch) and has already poisoned a number of people with her papayas. Whether this is true or not I don't know, but Zipe also advised me not to go out at night since that is when the mpamasavy come out and terrorize people. Since then I have been very paranoid going out to my latrine after dark.

Living here also makes me realize how fortunate I am and what I have taken for granted. A few nights ago there was a village movie night in which the local epicerie owner played a foreign film on a 20 inch tv hooked up to speakers. He enclosed the space by putting tarp all around wooden benches. The entrance fee was 200 ariary. The "cinema" was filled with around 200 people of all ages. This is a rare treat for the people in my town since only a couple families actually own televisions. Even though the film was mediocre and in a language they couldn't understand, "Blood Rayne", it provided unique entertainment for the townspeople.