Tuesday, July 19, 2011
karakory baba? a term of endearment
I've learned to yell....no scream. In Tsimihety land people have no reservations at yelling their innermost angsts at each other over long distances, sometimes whole rice fields. It was a shock at first, coming from the highlands where I felt people spoke in hushed voices. I found I actually really enjoy this. I especially like yelling the greeting "karakory oah baba?" to my male friends. This means, "what's up dude?" And is used somewhat as a term of endearment, since baba is a term of respect you use for older males (and mama for women). I've learned not to be overly nice or too polite, in terms of Western standards (I try to mirror how my village interacts with each other). When I was reserved and polite (in my view of course), it really separated me from others and made them think I was miavona or snobby. There was an "air" about me and people acted differently around me, thus was a minus for my integration. Of course there are social etiquettes that you use with people of authority, like for example the mayor or gendarme. Another thing I don't feel is pity for people here, despite the fact that most of the people in my village have much less than I do in terms of material possessions. Pity is condescending and I feel is objectifying; it suggests that I am on a different plane than the people in my community. Instead I understand that due to many factors (whether relating, to geography, history, colonization, etc.) people struggle on a day to day basis to feed their families here. They are no better or worse than I am, but rather our lives were shaped by outside circumstances. Its really humbling to see my neighbor give me mustard leaves that she needed to hike 6 kilometers for uphill, barefoot to obtain when she can't even afford to buy sponges to wash her dishes.
Monday, July 18, 2011
my cultural faux pas... i'm a tromba from Etats-unis
Despite having had two months of cross-cultural training, possesing abundant reading material, and my consistent attempt at being culturally sensitive I still manage to blunder in all sorts of ways. For example, many of the villagers still practice what is called tromba. A tromba is a mystical ceremony, which employs the use of a witch doctor or healer to cast out evil spirits that possess and cause maladies in individuals. Its victims often experience quivers and speak in different voices. I was having my daily breakfast of coffee with fried bananas when I spotted a family with, what I considered strange white markings painted all over their faces. I ran up to the children and even was "audacious" enough to touch the baby's face. The villagers gasped and whispered among themselves while giving me skeptical glances. I realized later after talking to my friend that I had committed a terrible cultural taboo. I needed to go up to everyone who witnessed my silly actions and explain to them that I am still learning about Malagasy culture and was simply curious, not knowing that I had offended many people. I went to a funeral a week ago for a women who died during childbirth, leaving eight children (many still being very young) behind. Not knowing what the proper dress for this was (which is traditional brightly colored cloth that is sewed in a tube shape called salova) I showed up in black pants and a t-shirt. People made remarks but fortunately noone seemed offended and derived my ignorance of dress code to me being a vizaha. Malagasy mysticism and funeral rites are just some of the more overt forms of culture which are easily identified. There are still the more subconcious and "sneaky" manifestations of culture that lie beneath the iceberg such as the concept of face saving and time that take longer to learn. People often ask me for a voandalana (or a gift from the road) when I come back from a trip. The point of this as pointed out by my "cultural broker" is to maintain social relationships. So instead of getting annoyed I try to keep in mind these cultural nuances.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
The end of the first chapter...the beginning of my life as a peace corps volunteer
so how do i even begin this post? i want to apologize in advance for having horrible grammar and punctuation. unfortunately internet is expensive, slow, and in general unreliable here. I am also writing on a french keyboard so it makes things a little difficult for slow learners like me.
but i survives pre-service training and now I am currently at my new site in in the northwest. Its been a crazy journey so far, I feel i don't have enough time or energy to explain in detail exactly what I've been through these past two and a half months but I'll try my best now before the computer breaks down for the upteenth time. I've learned my lesson though, save often save more.
I lived with a Malagasy host family in a small village in the outskirts of the capital Tana. They had a a farm, three children ages 6,9, and 8 months. The father was a fisherman and the mother raised pigs and chickens. The first nine weeks of my life in Madagascar consisted of intensive technical and language training. I learned standard Gasy for the first 5 weeks since I didn't receive my site post and therefore the dialect I would have to speak. Afterwards I had classes in Sakalava a dialect that is spoken here in the north, however since PC is understaffed I was forced to take Sakalava. Sakalava isn't even the dialect of my community. Rather it is Tsihimety, which is supposively similar but in reality isn't.
Homestays were meant to prepare us to live successfully by ourselves at site. After four hours of language class and two hours of technical/ cross-cultural training a day I would come home and help my host mother prepare food over a wood cook stove. I would wash my clothes by hand and fetch water from a well. So far I still do these things at site.
I trained with 38 other incredible individuals, who i can proudly say all made it through the rigorous training too. We swore in at the embassy on May 3. After all of the final goodbyes I left the next morning with two other volunteers, a language trainer, and driver to be installed at my site.
our group was divided up into two groups: environment and small enterprise development. I was placed in the latter group. During training I did a number of hands on group projects. I visited a small embroidery business in my training village, formed an income generating activity, and did a feasibility study of how an internet cafe would function in the town. During the process I got to better understand the business climate in Madagascar. Our training also consisted of cross-cultural sessions. We learned what is fady or taboo, dance, interpersonal relations, etc. All in all it was informal and made me realize what an extroidinarily diverse place Madagascar is. This was reinforced by my technical trip, in which my SED sector visited a number of current volunteers at their sites. We traveled all the way south to Ihosy as well as to Fianar, Antsirabe, Ambositra. Being able to view what other volunteers were currently doing was such an encouragement for me as a trainee. My APCD asks us to really find projects that we are passionate about since being a SED volunteer actually takes a lot of self-motivation since there is no set direction or requirement of us.
I've dealt with fleas, bed bugs, and a rat infestation. I've also gotten an interesting parasite called Parasy Afrikana. The female lodges herself in her hosts foot and lays a sack of eggs which will then emerge after a given amount of time if it is not taken out. Fortunately one of the villagers was able to dig it out of the back of my ankle before this happened.
Now that I am site I feel a mix of emotions, overwhelming but exciting. It averages 90 degrees everyday, its dry, I have two rooms in a cement house (despite the fact that the other homes are made of mud and palm leaves since my NGO required it of my village to build me a house), I walk 30 meters to get water from a well, I take cold bucket baths everyday, I get mocked by children because of my vazaha-ness (foreigner), no electricity, or internet, and goats, pigs, and cows roam around my yard. Despite all of this I love it here. Its peaceful and I feel that I am learning a tremendous amount. Everyday I've spent hours in front of local epiceries and hotelys (restaurants) with a notebook and pen asking people questions in Malagasy and translating with my Peace corps issued dictionary. There are still many cross-cultural misunderstandings that I probably will have to face for the entire duration that I am here, but I feel that with Malagasy people and Tsimihety (a tribe in the NW) if you are open, polite, and respectful they will extend their friendship to you. I get little personal space here but i've set boundaries already that I feel most people in Anjiamangirana understand, especially since I am a foreigner with a different culture and background.
Communication has actually been the toughest part since i've been here, but everyone has shown a great level of patience with me. Since English is not spoken at all in my town i am able to use what little French I have as well as a mix of Malagasy to get my point accross. French has also been a valuable tool to learn Malagasy for me.
but i survives pre-service training and now I am currently at my new site in in the northwest. Its been a crazy journey so far, I feel i don't have enough time or energy to explain in detail exactly what I've been through these past two and a half months but I'll try my best now before the computer breaks down for the upteenth time. I've learned my lesson though, save often save more.
I lived with a Malagasy host family in a small village in the outskirts of the capital Tana. They had a a farm, three children ages 6,9, and 8 months. The father was a fisherman and the mother raised pigs and chickens. The first nine weeks of my life in Madagascar consisted of intensive technical and language training. I learned standard Gasy for the first 5 weeks since I didn't receive my site post and therefore the dialect I would have to speak. Afterwards I had classes in Sakalava a dialect that is spoken here in the north, however since PC is understaffed I was forced to take Sakalava. Sakalava isn't even the dialect of my community. Rather it is Tsihimety, which is supposively similar but in reality isn't.
Homestays were meant to prepare us to live successfully by ourselves at site. After four hours of language class and two hours of technical/ cross-cultural training a day I would come home and help my host mother prepare food over a wood cook stove. I would wash my clothes by hand and fetch water from a well. So far I still do these things at site.
I trained with 38 other incredible individuals, who i can proudly say all made it through the rigorous training too. We swore in at the embassy on May 3. After all of the final goodbyes I left the next morning with two other volunteers, a language trainer, and driver to be installed at my site.
our group was divided up into two groups: environment and small enterprise development. I was placed in the latter group. During training I did a number of hands on group projects. I visited a small embroidery business in my training village, formed an income generating activity, and did a feasibility study of how an internet cafe would function in the town. During the process I got to better understand the business climate in Madagascar. Our training also consisted of cross-cultural sessions. We learned what is fady or taboo, dance, interpersonal relations, etc. All in all it was informal and made me realize what an extroidinarily diverse place Madagascar is. This was reinforced by my technical trip, in which my SED sector visited a number of current volunteers at their sites. We traveled all the way south to Ihosy as well as to Fianar, Antsirabe, Ambositra. Being able to view what other volunteers were currently doing was such an encouragement for me as a trainee. My APCD asks us to really find projects that we are passionate about since being a SED volunteer actually takes a lot of self-motivation since there is no set direction or requirement of us.
I've dealt with fleas, bed bugs, and a rat infestation. I've also gotten an interesting parasite called Parasy Afrikana. The female lodges herself in her hosts foot and lays a sack of eggs which will then emerge after a given amount of time if it is not taken out. Fortunately one of the villagers was able to dig it out of the back of my ankle before this happened.
Now that I am site I feel a mix of emotions, overwhelming but exciting. It averages 90 degrees everyday, its dry, I have two rooms in a cement house (despite the fact that the other homes are made of mud and palm leaves since my NGO required it of my village to build me a house), I walk 30 meters to get water from a well, I take cold bucket baths everyday, I get mocked by children because of my vazaha-ness (foreigner), no electricity, or internet, and goats, pigs, and cows roam around my yard. Despite all of this I love it here. Its peaceful and I feel that I am learning a tremendous amount. Everyday I've spent hours in front of local epiceries and hotelys (restaurants) with a notebook and pen asking people questions in Malagasy and translating with my Peace corps issued dictionary. There are still many cross-cultural misunderstandings that I probably will have to face for the entire duration that I am here, but I feel that with Malagasy people and Tsimihety (a tribe in the NW) if you are open, polite, and respectful they will extend their friendship to you. I get little personal space here but i've set boundaries already that I feel most people in Anjiamangirana understand, especially since I am a foreigner with a different culture and background.
Communication has actually been the toughest part since i've been here, but everyone has shown a great level of patience with me. Since English is not spoken at all in my town i am able to use what little French I have as well as a mix of Malagasy to get my point accross. French has also been a valuable tool to learn Malagasy for me.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Takeoff in 10, 9...
This will be my final entry until takeoff. I am feeling a myriad of emotions right now, I feel my head spinning in all directions. I'm anxious; its hard to put myself to bed at night. Yet, I feel enthusiastic about getting to meet all of my fellow PCV at staging. There's also a bit of sadness in having to leave behind all of the people and things that I have grown attached to and love. True, it will be an experience that will shape me in ways I cannot yet foresee. All I hope for is that I am up for the challenge.
My plane leaves Minneapolis at 11:30 am and lands in Philadelphia at 2:30 pm on Sunday the 27th on Delta airlines. That's precisely one and a half days from now!!! I register at the hotel on Sunday night and wake up the next morning to begin my staging process. Monday will be a day full of meeting new people, finishing up paperwork, orientation, and saying our final goodbyes to America.
I fly out on Tuesday from New York's JFK and fly to Johannesburg, South Africa for an overnight stay before hopping on a puddle jumper to Antananarivo, Madagascar on March 2 (a day before my birthday!). I feel this days kind of snuck up on me despite the fact that I've already been graduated for two months.
I've just been trying to live in the present and not take things for granted as much. Its been a joy being able to bond with family and friends at my home in Minnesota and Chicago. I love the snow (except for the pain in the butt blizzard we had last weekend). I love my mom's pho. I love shopping outlets, watching X-files, and being able to gain wireless connection pretty much everywhere I go. I know I will make the most out of being in Madagascar, despite not having these things, or at least I hope to.
I won't be able to get internet or telephone access for the first few days I am in Mada. Rest assured, the in-country director Kelly Daly told us that, “no news is good news in Peace Corps”. I will have to rely on a lot of trust and self-confidence to get through this I feel.
I'm not usually someone who lets her fate, especially when it comes to big decisions be taken out of her hands but I've realized with this Peace Corps process its absolutely necessary. They are a huge bureaucratic government organization that is honest in admitting that it takes its dear time in process volunteers paperwork.
Time line:
March 17, 2010: submitted online application (which was super extensive and required a full medical questionnaire, with three recommendations, resume).
April 10th: received a call from her recruiter in Chicago to have an interview
April 22nd: Had an interview. He was really amiable, I almost felt like I was talking to an old friend
April 25: Received a nomination to Sub-Saharan Africa.
May 29th: Went in for first doctors visit
July 7: Went in for second doctor visit since I still needed to receive shots, and have more lab work done
August 20th: Went in for third doctor visit. I received my third notice from the Peace Corps saying that my file was incomplete. I passed out after the fourth vile of blood was drawn. I didn't know they would give me apple juice as a cure.
Mid-October: My file was cleared!!!! Finally I am on my way to become an official invitee.
November 5th: I received a big blue welcome packet to French speaking Madagascar! All I knew about this island at this point was that it was a Disney movie with cute lemurs, its an island, and that there are environmental concerns there.
February 27: Staging in Philadelphia, PA
March 2: Arrive in Madagascar
So more or less the whole process took about a year. So if you are thinking of applying, do so about a year before you want to depart.
Once I arrive I will be living with a Malagasy family. I am so excited about this. I requested that they have tiny children. Since I know that children are the best at teaching you a foreign language, since they are less critical than adults, and vocabulary is well... still fundamental.
Well I promise the next post will be a lot more interesting than these last few have been.
But farewell and thank everyone for supporting me!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Learning to comment parler du français
So it is roughly one month till takeoff. I'm scrambling to think of things I should purchase. Already my list includes: the Diva cup, camera, Midol, GPS tracker, chopsticks, good reading list (for all of the lonely days without English to come), hiking bag and shoes, water purifier tablets, travel book, etc.
Aside from the obvious laundry list of items that I need to get in order before leaving, there are also the not so concrete things. I've been auditing a French class with an old teacher from high school as preparation. I figured that I should brush up on the language since I'll be in a Francophone country, even if the locals in the site I'll be placed in speaks primarily Malagasy.
Not much has changed from when I took the class four years ago. Monsieur T. still has a witty sense of humor and thought provoking commentary about the world, we still "rap" to French hip-hop songs from Diam, and the students are relatively motivated since its a high level course conducted all in French. However something has changed, and that's me. Four years having been away at university, having studied abroad in Beijing, and having lived in Chicago has transformed me. It makes me wonder how much two years living in Madagascar will alter me from my current self. I remember when I was 18 I felt I was so knowledgeable about the world around me as I sat in that classroom, now I am much less confident of this fact. I hope to be more humble, wise, and tolerant after two years of service in Africa. But these are just hopes and aspirations. I'm really trying to be open to how my experience will impact my worldview.
As far as my emotional preparation goes, I'm not really sure where I should start. I suppose I really won't know until my airplane lands in Antanarivo. Something I've been trying to do is feel comfortable with being lonely. Many PCV tell me that I will have lots and lots of alone time. This is especially hard for someone who has grown up listening to the clattering of noisy relatives coming in and out of her home freely. I cherish and feel comforted having multiple family members surrounding me at any given moment. Connecting with love ones at home may be difficult or infrequent however from what I hear. I must be able to cope with this somehow. Any suggestions?
It's strange that I'll be gone in a month for more than two years. Right now I'm just focusing on preparing myself mentally, emotionally, and physically for what may come. I've been advised from other RPCV's (returned peace Corps volunteers) that my experience will be entirely unique, as every PCV is, from volunteers before me. I don't know where my site will be after my three month training in the capital Tana. This makes preparing for my journey somewhat hard but I'm doing the best I can right now.
Aside from the obvious laundry list of items that I need to get in order before leaving, there are also the not so concrete things. I've been auditing a French class with an old teacher from high school as preparation. I figured that I should brush up on the language since I'll be in a Francophone country, even if the locals in the site I'll be placed in speaks primarily Malagasy.
Not much has changed from when I took the class four years ago. Monsieur T. still has a witty sense of humor and thought provoking commentary about the world, we still "rap" to French hip-hop songs from Diam, and the students are relatively motivated since its a high level course conducted all in French. However something has changed, and that's me. Four years having been away at university, having studied abroad in Beijing, and having lived in Chicago has transformed me. It makes me wonder how much two years living in Madagascar will alter me from my current self. I remember when I was 18 I felt I was so knowledgeable about the world around me as I sat in that classroom, now I am much less confident of this fact. I hope to be more humble, wise, and tolerant after two years of service in Africa. But these are just hopes and aspirations. I'm really trying to be open to how my experience will impact my worldview.
As far as my emotional preparation goes, I'm not really sure where I should start. I suppose I really won't know until my airplane lands in Antanarivo. Something I've been trying to do is feel comfortable with being lonely. Many PCV tell me that I will have lots and lots of alone time. This is especially hard for someone who has grown up listening to the clattering of noisy relatives coming in and out of her home freely. I cherish and feel comforted having multiple family members surrounding me at any given moment. Connecting with love ones at home may be difficult or infrequent however from what I hear. I must be able to cope with this somehow. Any suggestions?
It's strange that I'll be gone in a month for more than two years. Right now I'm just focusing on preparing myself mentally, emotionally, and physically for what may come. I've been advised from other RPCV's (returned peace Corps volunteers) that my experience will be entirely unique, as every PCV is, from volunteers before me. I don't know where my site will be after my three month training in the capital Tana. This makes preparing for my journey somewhat hard but I'm doing the best I can right now.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Pre-staging jitters
After years spent dreaming of becoming a volunteer its finally becoming a reality! I received a big blue package from the Peace Corps early in November inviting me to Madagascar. The official date of my departure will be March 1, 2011. I arrive in Africa one day before I turn 22! I hope the lemurs will have a nice gift waiting for me.
Madagascar is one of the last places that I thought I would be placed, but I've spent the past month and a half researching relentlessly about this faraway island. And the more I learn about Madagascar the more I'm convinced it really is a magical place (with its share of issues of course). Around 80% of the flora and fauna is endemic to the island, meaning that it is not found anywhere else in the world, owing to thousands of years of isolated evolution. The Malagasy people are a unique blend of Austronesian, Bantu from Africa, and Arab descent. Some call it the eighth continent because of its unique habitat.
I discovered my love of blogging from a refugee outreach course I took this past fall at university. This was a fifteen week course that was split between civic engagement, advocacy, and the academic investigation of refugee affairs. I spent many hours volunteering with a Bhutanese/ Nepalese family in Rogers Park. I learned that reflection is a crucial component of service work by my contributing to a public blog. Well I hope you are able to follow me on this potentially whirlwind adventure.
Well au revoir until next time mon amis!
Madagascar is one of the last places that I thought I would be placed, but I've spent the past month and a half researching relentlessly about this faraway island. And the more I learn about Madagascar the more I'm convinced it really is a magical place (with its share of issues of course). Around 80% of the flora and fauna is endemic to the island, meaning that it is not found anywhere else in the world, owing to thousands of years of isolated evolution. The Malagasy people are a unique blend of Austronesian, Bantu from Africa, and Arab descent. Some call it the eighth continent because of its unique habitat.
I discovered my love of blogging from a refugee outreach course I took this past fall at university. This was a fifteen week course that was split between civic engagement, advocacy, and the academic investigation of refugee affairs. I spent many hours volunteering with a Bhutanese/ Nepalese family in Rogers Park. I learned that reflection is a crucial component of service work by my contributing to a public blog. Well I hope you are able to follow me on this potentially whirlwind adventure.
Well au revoir until next time mon amis!
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