I’ve been an office girl for 4 weeks now. A new set of Pioneer volunteers have swept through Fort Dauphin and off to Volobe being shepherded by the very capable hands of the new Coordintor, Jim. It’s been very strange not being involved much in the meeting and greeting of new volunteers and having to get used to sitting down for the vast majority of my day but there have been some perks.
I have become domestic once more. I revel in my weekly trip to the market (woven market basket in hand and ridiculous grin on my face) where my veggie lady gives me freebies as a reward for using her as my regular supplier of green stuff. I love the patter you get from buying things from a person as opposed to picking it from a shelf. I look forward to doing my laundry on a Sunday morning before it gets too hot. I sweep my house out every morning. I am also loving being able to cook for myself so much, definitely getting my 5 a day now. I think I’ve eaten rice once in the past 3 weeks! Spending my weekends lazing by the beach evening out my “pioneer tan” and devouring books again. Carrying on my knitting, learning how to surf, trying to get better at French (I have realised that in order to work in large parts of Africa, French is pretty much essential…why did I do Italian A-level?!) and spending hours on the internet trying to update my frazzled and infested laptop. I have acres of time to myself with nobody ringing up at the last minute asking me to organise something.
And yet I think all of the aforementioned things would feel much better if there were more people around. As it is, Lisa and Jim have shipped off on their bush placements with their volunteers and other Lisa isn’t due back in town for a few days. Not many vazahas to play with in town, just me and Davey (who works for one of the mining conractors in the area). It’s so pathetic, I used to be so good in my own company, what’s happened to me?! I’ve gone soft…
And that makes me think of all the things I miss from the bush. I miss being outside constantly, even when it rains, the sunrises and the sunsets, I miss the simple routine of the day (eat, work, eat, sleep) I miss the constant music and not caring at all what I look like. But I think what I miss the most is the banter with the bush staff. There’ve been some great times and some not so great times in the last year and without the guys in the bush, I wouldn’t’ve been able to do my job at all. They’re a great team and I know that with Jim as Coordinator they’re going to have a ball in the coming 12 months.
But having said that, I do not miss the Pioneer diet, not being able to escape the insane heat at this time of year, desperately trying to stay neutral in between various work related issues and feeling permanently exhausted.
What a contrary young lady. Jeez I’m a hard one to please…
On the plus side I’m heading back out to Volobe for a long weekend tomorrow so that should be enough to get myself a good bush fix for a few weeks. Then a new batch of volunteers are arriving next week to do english teaching, helping with the HIV project and other random tasks. It'll be great to get some new blood in the town and I'm hopeful that one of them might have brought some cheese.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Seven days and seven taxi brousses.
With several weeks of holiday ahead of me and very few people in town Lisa and I decided to take ourselves away and have a budget adventure. I was really keen to get up to Andringitra national park and Lisa was desperate to see the black and white ruff lemurs in Ranomafana national park. We were on a serious budget so it would be taxi brousse (any form of wheeled public transport) all the way. 7 days, 7 taxi brousse rides…it had all the makings of a true adventure!
Our adventure started at 5am on a Sunday morning. Eager and bleary eyed we slumped on the bench at the taxi brousse station waiting for our noble steed to be loaded up. Then it was only 400 odd miles and 36 hours on a heavily pot holed dirt track until our first destination of Ambalavao.
Walking in
From Ambalavao we headed north in a wonderful taxi brousse (we got to sit in the front!) to Fianarantsoa, Madagascar’s second city, where were going to organise a trip to Ranomafana national park. We got mobbed at the taxi brousse station and managed to get a ride within the hour which was lucky as Fianar station isn’t a particularly nice place to hang around.
Taxi brousse ride number 3 was the second worst one we had. Shoehorned into the back of a minibus, we hurtled along to Ranomafana. Just when we thought there wasn’t space for a newborn child, let alone an adult, seven grown men would somehow fold themselves into the bus and off we’d go again. Very very unpleasant, especially when the man sat next to us was obviously very drunk and reeked of sick.
But we got to Ranomafana in one piece and it was as beautiful as I remember. We had one night there with a night walk and a 6 hour trek in the day to try and find lemurs for Lisa. Sadly, we had a seriously crap guide. We seemed to know more than he did and we didn’t get to see the black and white lemurs Lisa wanted to see. Very frustrating, especially when a group came back about 10 minutes after us saying they’d seen them five minutes after we’d left!
From Ranomafana it was back to Fianar in a wonderful 4x4. The ride itself was smooth, peaceful and relaxing until I felt something substantial on my head. In the back of the car were several huge bunches of bananas. A huge spider had been lured out from the bananas and taken up residence on my hat. Lisa kindly flicked it off on to the man sat next to me and we spent the rest of the journey terrified that it was going to make a return and crawl up our trouser legs.
On arriving at Fianar we were told that our taxi brousse back to Fort Dauphin had been brought forward from the scheduled time of 6pm the following day to 2am that night. After a manic few days this was not the news we were wanting to hear. We had a leisurely day of bumming around Fianar planned. Instead, we were back at the taxi brousse station at 2am to be told that the bus wasn’t actually coming til 4am. Great.
Eventually it arrived, we squeezed in and we were on our way home.
The ride home was awful. I have never gone so many days consecutively with so little sleep. I felt like the living dead and lost the will to live after about 6 hours. It was so hot, so crowded, so noisy and I was so tired, and the best was still to come!
At about 10pm (18 hours in) we were stopped in the middle of nowhere to say that there was some trouble on the road (still don’t know what that elusive trouble was) and we had to wait til morning before we could continue. A whole 8 hours stuck in a taxi brousse and not even moving anywhere! So we slept, ate crackers, played eye spy and discussed where we would like to live and how we’d decorate to pass the time.
As the sun was just starting to rise we lumbered off again. In all, it took us 40 hours to get back to Fort Dauphin. I was completely broken, starving hungry, coated in sweat, dust and god knows what else and desperately in need of a wee! Never have I ever felt so delighted to stand up in all my life!
Our adventure started at 5am on a Sunday morning. Eager and bleary eyed we slumped on the bench at the taxi brousse station waiting for our noble steed to be loaded up. Then it was only 400 odd miles and 36 hours on a heavily pot holed dirt track until our first destination of Ambalavao.
Our mobile instrument of torture
Loading up the beast
My best sardine impression
I’ve read a lot about taxi brousse journeys and I was fairly apprehensive. I’d heard nightmare stories of breaking down miles from anywhere and having to wait days for parts or until another taxi brousse passed by. Music screeching constantly, screaming children, livestock everywhere, crazy drivers, vomit and other bodily fluids flying around with the jostling of the truck and four people plus children squeezed onto a seat designed for two people. I think I was right to be a little apprehensive!
Our first 36 hour epic ride took us through the spiny desert of the south in to the granitic highlands of central Madagascar. It was eventful as we’d expected. Along the way we broke down twice (problems which were rectified fairly quickly), a kid almost threw up on Lisa, we picked up a woman with a broken leg, we didn’t sleep at all (no head rests, very bumpy ride and relentless very loud music) and we completely lost all feeling in our hips, knees and feet. I remember waking up wondering what the squashy thing was under my feet. I turned on my head torch to discover that the eight children sharing the back seat with their extended family were all bedded down under our chair and I had been stomping on the faces of one of the kids, oops! I have never felt so cramped for so long.
Having spent one night in Ambalavao we headed off to Andringitra national park for the day. It was an amazing day and was even better than I’d hoped. Sadly we were there in tavy season (the time of year when local people burn the land to ready it for planting and grazing) so the air was really hazy and the views not as good as they could’ve been but it was still incredible.
Where the fun began
First glimpse
Walking inZebu and Andringitra
Amazing packed lunch provided by our lovely guide
Wandering amongst the granite
Walking around the inner bowl of Andringitra
Sunset
From Ambalavao we headed north in a wonderful taxi brousse (we got to sit in the front!) to Fianarantsoa, Madagascar’s second city, where were going to organise a trip to Ranomafana national park. We got mobbed at the taxi brousse station and managed to get a ride within the hour which was lucky as Fianar station isn’t a particularly nice place to hang around.
Taxi brousse ride number 3 was the second worst one we had. Shoehorned into the back of a minibus, we hurtled along to Ranomafana. Just when we thought there wasn’t space for a newborn child, let alone an adult, seven grown men would somehow fold themselves into the bus and off we’d go again. Very very unpleasant, especially when the man sat next to us was obviously very drunk and reeked of sick.
But we got to Ranomafana in one piece and it was as beautiful as I remember. We had one night there with a night walk and a 6 hour trek in the day to try and find lemurs for Lisa. Sadly, we had a seriously crap guide. We seemed to know more than he did and we didn’t get to see the black and white lemurs Lisa wanted to see. Very frustrating, especially when a group came back about 10 minutes after us saying they’d seen them five minutes after we’d left!
Big moth hiding on Lisa's pillow
Comet moth
From Ranomafana it was back to Fianar in a wonderful 4x4. The ride itself was smooth, peaceful and relaxing until I felt something substantial on my head. In the back of the car were several huge bunches of bananas. A huge spider had been lured out from the bananas and taken up residence on my hat. Lisa kindly flicked it off on to the man sat next to me and we spent the rest of the journey terrified that it was going to make a return and crawl up our trouser legs.
On arriving at Fianar we were told that our taxi brousse back to Fort Dauphin had been brought forward from the scheduled time of 6pm the following day to 2am that night. After a manic few days this was not the news we were wanting to hear. We had a leisurely day of bumming around Fianar planned. Instead, we were back at the taxi brousse station at 2am to be told that the bus wasn’t actually coming til 4am. Great.
Eventually it arrived, we squeezed in and we were on our way home.
The ride home was awful. I have never gone so many days consecutively with so little sleep. I felt like the living dead and lost the will to live after about 6 hours. It was so hot, so crowded, so noisy and I was so tired, and the best was still to come!
At about 10pm (18 hours in) we were stopped in the middle of nowhere to say that there was some trouble on the road (still don’t know what that elusive trouble was) and we had to wait til morning before we could continue. A whole 8 hours stuck in a taxi brousse and not even moving anywhere! So we slept, ate crackers, played eye spy and discussed where we would like to live and how we’d decorate to pass the time.
As the sun was just starting to rise we lumbered off again. In all, it took us 40 hours to get back to Fort Dauphin. I was completely broken, starving hungry, coated in sweat, dust and god knows what else and desperately in need of a wee! Never have I ever felt so delighted to stand up in all my life!
We made it!
So we did it. 7 days, 7 taxi brousse rides. It was a hilarious experience but I won’t be doing it again in a hurry.
My last day
My days as coordinator came to an end on Tuesday. I am very excited about all the new challenges ahead but with so many people now gone from the Azafady office Fort Dauphin does feel like a very different place. A change is as good as a rest and all that but so much change in such a short time can scramble your brain somewhat!
Parasy extraction
My last 10 days in the bush as coordinator were spent in the idyllic village of St Luce. We collected seeds from the forest for the tree nursery, mapped the location of some critically endangered palms, built a vegetable garden for the local school and spent a lot of afternoons off at the beach. It didn’t feel much like work at all!
Lisa elegantly serving up lunch
The beach at S17 and my last day at work.
The biggest fish I haver ever seen! Caught by hand by four Malagasy women at St Luce.
Lisa and Sarah are happy with their lobster meal!
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
Exodus
It’s a sad truth that whilst the Azafady family is very close knit, it is also very transient with a constant flux of people in and out of the organisation. On arriving back from the bush this time around, the office was a very different place. An exodus had taken place whilst I was away.
Sophie (Project Development Assistant), Kate (Nutrition and Health Project Assistant), Diana (English teacher and Arts and Cultural Project power house. Also my housemate) and Katie (Lemur Venture Coordinator and also my housemate) have all flown the Azafady nest in the past month. In addition, Gaby (Head of project Development) has been offered a new job in the UK so she too has flown the nest after over 3 years of incredibly hard work in Fort Dauphin.
They’re all going on to do amazing things in their respective fields but I am going to miss them all a hell of a lot. So now it’s just me, Brett, Lemur Lisa and Boss Lisa as the Vazaha contingent – a much slimmed down Azafady family! But come October there will be a fresh invasion of pasty faces to welcome in to the fold.
Sophie (Project Development Assistant), Kate (Nutrition and Health Project Assistant), Diana (English teacher and Arts and Cultural Project power house. Also my housemate) and Katie (Lemur Venture Coordinator and also my housemate) have all flown the Azafady nest in the past month. In addition, Gaby (Head of project Development) has been offered a new job in the UK so she too has flown the nest after over 3 years of incredibly hard work in Fort Dauphin.
They’re all going on to do amazing things in their respective fields but I am going to miss them all a hell of a lot. So now it’s just me, Brett, Lemur Lisa and Boss Lisa as the Vazaha contingent – a much slimmed down Azafady family! But come October there will be a fresh invasion of pasty faces to welcome in to the fold.
Random puppy who trespassed in my house and left me little brown presents all over my floor.As for the pioneers, despite only having 7 volunteers this time round in Volobe Sud we still got the latrine done. 4 days of torrential rain stopped work for a while. The heavy rainfall also meant that the river was too high to get cement bags across from the village where supplies were stored. But, in the end, we still got it done with time to spare for some avant-garde landscaping.
Finished latrine
Nery modelling the futuristic latrine landscaping.
On the bench that Caitlin and I built.
Playing with a chameleonOne of the highlights for me on this trip to the bush was the discovery of a waterfall about 40 minutes from camp. It was truly gorgeous. The river ran down in a series of steps which meant that you could spend hours scrambling up and down the rocks exploring different nooks and crannies of the cascade. There was even a natural shower which was incredibly refreshing. Pictures really don’t do it justice.
The waterfall.
Flowers on the coffee trees in Volobe
My tent at sunrise
We went to see the man who was possessed. He was sat cross legged in one of the houses in the village with his brother, a friend and several other local people. His brother had a mandolina (traditional Malagasy guitar) and the friend had a marraca. Surrounding them all were the items needed to call the spirit. A bowl of water, a little cotton sack of coins and bunches of local herbs and plants. The friend and the brother started up a kilalaky rhythm (crazy fast) with the instruments and a really distant expression came over the possessed man’s face. As he sat cross legged on the floor his whole body started to jerk in time with the rhythm of the instruments. We were then told that we could ask the man questions. A lot of the girls asked him how many children they would have, if they would marry their current boyfriend etc. He rubbed water on the coins he took from the cotton sack and rubbed the coins between his hands as he muttered a series of words under his breath. He then put the coins in the bowl of water and made his predictions. His voice was stuttering and had a very odd tone to it. As if he’d just been crying and was finding it hard to speak or if the words were being pushed out of him. It was so interesting to watch. Time will tell if his predictions are correct or not!
I’m not quite sure where I stand on this kind of thing. I know that if you believe in something badly enough then it can seem very real and you can convince yourself to believe anything. But then again I am aware that there are some things that cannot be explained by science and reason alone. All I know is that this possessed man who had never met me before and had never heard anything about me was able to tell me things about my life which he had no way of knowing anything about. It was exciting in some ways but quite unnerving at the same time.
At the end of our stay in Volobe we had a huge blow out party to celebrate finishing the school and the latrine and to thank the community for the huge effort they had put in to getting all the materials there for us to work with.
I was quite sad to leave Volobe. It’s the last extended bush placement that I’ll coordinate and it dawned on me that the times are a changing and I only have a few months left in Madagascar. But I guess that just means I have to get stuck in and make the most of those few months!
Coffee beans drying in the sun
Vanilla pods drying in the sun
Finished school
Thursday, 30 July 2009
Big Hair South
Volobe Sud (literally translated as “big hair south”) is the most remote village I’ve worked in with Azafady. I’ve just come back from 3 weeks building a school there. It’s been an amazing 3 weeks but it’s good to be back. I have really missed cheese. Volobe is a hard place to be for a solid stretch of time that long!
The school has been built with no major problems but what has struck me about this scheme is the epic scale of organising the work here.
Volobe is a 3 hour camion ride north of Fort Dauphin (to Tsanoriha, just north of Mahatalaky for those in the know). On reaching Tsanoriha there was quite a sight waiting for us. Some 300 people from Volobe greeted us chanting welcome songs and blowing an old bugle to further rouse the group. It was pretty overwhelming. I’ve never seen a welcome like it! From there you have to cross a terrifying bridge or ford the river (I forded the river. The bridge looked so scary). It is then a 3.5 hour trek into the mountains crossing a further 7 bodies of water before you get to Volobe. Getting 15 volunteers and their bags there was in itself a serious undertaking. But then of course all the materials for the school building have to be transported there too! In all, it took the best part of 300 porters all day to carry all of our kit and materials the 20 km to Volobe. An incredible effort from all involved and an amazing feat of Malagasy organisation!
The school has been built with no major problems but what has struck me about this scheme is the epic scale of organising the work here.
Volobe is a 3 hour camion ride north of Fort Dauphin (to Tsanoriha, just north of Mahatalaky for those in the know). On reaching Tsanoriha there was quite a sight waiting for us. Some 300 people from Volobe greeted us chanting welcome songs and blowing an old bugle to further rouse the group. It was pretty overwhelming. I’ve never seen a welcome like it! From there you have to cross a terrifying bridge or ford the river (I forded the river. The bridge looked so scary). It is then a 3.5 hour trek into the mountains crossing a further 7 bodies of water before you get to Volobe. Getting 15 volunteers and their bags there was in itself a serious undertaking. But then of course all the materials for the school building have to be transported there too! In all, it took the best part of 300 porters all day to carry all of our kit and materials the 20 km to Volobe. An incredible effort from all involved and an amazing feat of Malagasy organisation!
God awful bridge at Tsanoriha. I opted for wading the river. 
Dodgy Indiana Jones style bridge
Army of cement bags arriving for the latrine we go to built next tuesday. Each bag weighs 50kg. Finished school in the background.Volobe is the most beautiful place we’ve worked. It feels truly cut off from the rest of the area in the heart of the mountains. It gets incredibly cold at night and beautifully hot in the day. No phone signal, no car access and a very limited supply of bolo, frego, coke and gouty (all local biscuits and the lifeblood of pioneer schemes). Coffee trees scattered through the campsite along with pigs, dogs and disoriented roosters who crow all through the day and all through the night (but then we killed and ate the roosters so our vengeance was had!).
Campsite
Paddy fields
Beautiful Volobe It’s so peaceful (apart from the roosters) and all along the local river there are secluded seating areas where you can sit and sun warmed rocks and watch the birds go by. Lunch hours are spent dozing under coffee trees and devouring more books.
The view from the square foot of phone reception in the area. It's a patch of sacred forest where local people are buried (hence it being the only patch of intact forest in the area). Has a very magical quality to it. I almost expected dinosaurs to come stumbling out at dusk!The only major break in the peace (save for the roosters) came from round the clock partying by the local people. Winter season equals circumcision season in Madagascar, an occasion for a huge party with lots of round the clock moonshine consumption, singing and dancing. The stamina it requires to keep dancing and chanting through the village for 2 days straight is pretty incredible. The guides assured me that the spirits of the ancestors had possessed them and it was this that was giving them the strength to continue. I’m more convinced that they got their powers from the copious quantities of a local spirit of another sort…
Frog in the porch of my new spangly tent.So, all in all, another good but hard (and healthy!) three weeks. I am now eating and relaxing as much as I can before we head back out next Tuesday.
P.S. I’ve added more pics from my holiday with Mum and Dad to my last blog entry. Enjoy them!
P.S. I’ve added more pics from my holiday with Mum and Dad to my last blog entry. Enjoy them!
Monday, 6 July 2009
So much news!
Isalo National Park 
Mum and Dad getting swamped at Agnena
Isalo National Park
Piscine Naturelle in Isalo National Park
Giraffe neck weavil at Ranomafana National Park. Just plain bizarre.
Leaf tailed gecko Uroplatus. Amazing creaturesIt’s been two months since I last blogged. Such a long time! But in summary, scheme three drew to a close. By the end we had planted 11 000 trees (a mixture of fruit trees to provide an extra food source and fast growing species to be used as an alternative fuel source to the native forest), built 13 fuel efficient stoves and acted out a killer play on the benefits of using these stoves for World Environment Day 2009 in Ebakika.
Off to plant some more trees
Ian and Frank as village women for the play in EbakikaOnce gain, Angazety proved to be as temperamental as ever. The most incredible storm I have ever seen managed to damage all but four of the tents at the campsite. Lots of water for those lucky seedlings though.
Angazety when it was behaving itself
Angazety after the stormFor one of our days off we watched a wrestling match at Tsanoriha (a hamlet just south of Mahatalaky) which was incredibly confusing. The female contingent of the crowd would rush onto the wrestling area every now and again to whip the competitors with sarongs. Even by the end of the matches we still hadn’t worked out if it was the winners or the losers who were whipped! Great atmosphere though.
I think my health fared marginally better than in January but I still picked up a few nasties along the way...
Very sprained ankle sustained while running to long drops cross country in the dark.
Tropical ulcer
I’ve been very excited for quite a while about my parents coming out to visit. They’ ve done a fair amount of travelling well off the beaten track and I was hopeful that the mix of beautiful scenery, unique wildlife and wonderful people would pull two more people under Madagascar’s spell.
Mum and Dad in the forest at Antsirabe. How many pieces of kit do you need?!
Along the way we would be staying in some fairly swanky hotels, eating three cooked meals a day (which would hopefully contain very little rice and no beans at all) and recharging my batteries after a fairly long period of unsettled health.
The tour started at Tana airport with our guide for the 2 weeks, the ever smiley Claude, and the driver of our 4x4, Haingo. We hightailed it to the reserve of Andasibe, a 4 hour drive east of Tana.
Following that we headed onto RN7. The main arterial road of Madagascar which runs from the capital; Tana in the central highlands to Tulear down on the south-west coast. It’s amazing how different the scenery is in the highlands. It looks like a completely different country when compared to Fort Dauphin. There are so many more people. Villages everywhere. But then again, I guess we were passing by on the main highway of Madagascar. Perhaps if we’d branched off from the main road I would’ve seen the rolling expanses of nothingness that I’ve come to expect from Malagasy countryside. The houses are mainly two storey thatched mud houses. And there are so many paddy fields. Everything looks fertile and productive across the rolling, rounded, grassy hillsides. And the people look so different. The Merina and Betsileo tribes of the highlands have a much stronger Malaysian and Polynesian influence than other Malagasy tribes but they still have the same incredibly friendly nature that I know from other parts of the island.
Highland villages
Paddy fields, rocky outcrops and rolling hills. Very beautiful and so different to the south!
We made lots of stops on route. Ambatolampy, then Antsirabe (completely deserted and a very eerie place to be at the moment) and on to Ambositra (home to lots of incredible wood carving and marquetry. You can pick up a hand carved chair for £15. I need to go back there before I get home to stock up on carved goods!) before arriving at Ranomafana National Park.
We were staying at an incredibly swanky bungalow on the hillside overlooking the rainforest at Ranomafana. Gourmet 3 course meals for lunch and dinner. It definitely helped to reverse some of my weight loss! Lots of lemurs, even the golden bamboo lemur and the greater bamboo lemur both of which are critically endangered. The greater bamboo lemur only has around 50 individuals left in the wild so we were so lucky to be able to see them.
After three nights of luxury we headed back onto RN7 and headed south passing through Fianar (Madagascar’s second city) before pulling up at Ambalavao for the night. We were then headed into Bara country. The Bara are a seriously hardy tribe with strong links to East-African culture. They are primarily zebu herders and zebu are at the centre of many aspects of their lives. A young Bara man is not considered a man or cannot prove himself to be of worthy husband material to a prospective father-in-law until he has stolen a few zebu. Needless to say that being in the heart of Bara country, Ambalavao has an enormous zebu market. It runs over two days with buyers selecting their beasts on a Wednesday then coming back with the money on Thursday. Since the number of zebu a person owns is seen as a sign of wealth and power and a big zebu will set you back around 700 000 ariary (£200 - £250) there was some BIG money changing hands. The market place itself is just outside the town and I get the impression that there aren’t many vazahas that go there. But it is definitely worth a visit. The backdrop against the mountains in the early morning is stunning.
On the outskirts of the zebu market at Ambalavao
The next part of the journey only lasted a day but I feel that it deserves a special mention. It is very self indulgent and I’m not sure that the pictures quite convey the character of the landscape but I’ll do my best!
Just before RN7 gets to Ambalavao you dip down over the edge of a plateau. You are then greeted by a panorama of colossal granite mounds rising up from the plains below. The hallowed rock faces of Andringitra National Park are laid out for display right in front of you. My camera battery had sadly died by this point but I’m sure my Dad got some good snaps so if he sends me any I’ll put them up on the blog.
The whole scene was very reminiscent of the far north-west of Scotland. Granite tumps rising up out of nothingness (granted it’s mainly Torridonian sandstone up in Scotland but I won’t get into that here…). The scope for adventure along this stretch of road is enormous. To any climbers out there, there must be thousands of unclimbed lines within spitting distance of the road. And they would be huge routes. I’ll let you see for yourself…
Anja National Park. Community owned and community run and so much granite.
Granite
The "bishop's hat"
The "bishop's hat" side on
So down RN7 we continued, stopping at 50m intervals to take more pictures of big granite mountains. Mum’s patience for putting up with mine and Dad’s spray on “just how much it looked like Scotland…” was very impressive! Thanks for humouring us Ovy! The external temperature on Haingo’s car’s thermometer was gradually creeping back up to the high 20s. It was good to be back in the south.
We travelled on south through Ihosy, (capital of the Bara people) and on to our last National Park of the trip; Isalo. Isalo is renowned for its heavily eroded sandstone landscape and hiking through the area. It is undoubtedly a very beautiful area with lots more weird and wonderful rocky formations. We were staying in a truly palatial hotel with little individual bungalows set in amongst the rocky outcrops to the south of Isalo NP. I had my own mezzanine with its’ own toilet! Again, apart from a coach load of ancient French tourists we were the only people staying in this beautiful hotel. Nice and relaxing but a bit eerie sometimes.
We did two walking circuits at Isalo. The first one was the walk to the Piscine Naturelle, a beautiful natural oasis in amongst the seemingly completely arid landscape. The colours in the water and the palm fringed pool backed against the prehistoric rock formations make it a pretty idyllic place to lounge around and soak up some of the southern sun. Until the coach load of French tourists caught us up…
The second day saw us slithering our way up the canyon on the way to the Piscine blue, Piscine noir and Cascade des Nymphs (frog waterfall. I didn’t see any frogs though). Lots of scrambling over slimy rocks, lots of lush, green soggy vegetation. It could easily have been a setting for a herbal essences/bounty advert! The afternoons were ours to entertain ourselves as we wished. There was a lot of lazing about, a lot of reading and Mum and Dad treated me to a massage which was incredible. I felt the most relaxed that I’ve felt in a long time.
The next stop on the itinerary was Tulear down on the coast and Ifaty, a small town to the north of Tulear which has stunning beaches. En route we saw our first baobab trees of the trip (yey!) and passed through the sapphire mining town of Ilakaka. As a western tourist I DO NOT recommend stopping in Ilakaka. It’s the only place in Madagascar where I have felt unsafe. Not a fun place to break down I would imagine.
We didn’t spend much time at all in Tulear itself but Ifaty was a very restful place to spend 3 nights. Gorgeous white sandy beaches, completely deserted with little pirogues dotted along the horizon. The Jones family mainly dossed about reading, sleeping, writing, listening to music and pootling along the beach. Dad and I went out for some snorkelling within the lagoon off Ifaty beach. I have to say that the fish were beautiful but the coral itself was pretty unimpressive. A lot of it has been bleached by rising sea temperatures and the coral has also been damaged by local fishing practices. It’s so difficult when the local tribe, the Vezo, depend so fully on the sea as a source of income but also as a definition of their identity. It makes it very difficult to reduce the pressure of fishing when the Vezo’s whole identity is so inextricably tied up with fishing in the area.
We did go to the very cool Reniala reserve at Ifaty. There were lots of weird and wonderful plants from the spiny desert there but I’m not going to lie, I was there for the baobabs and the baobabs alone. They are hilarious and I love them. Who wouldn’t?!
We travelled on south through Ihosy, (capital of the Bara people) and on to our last National Park of the trip; Isalo. Isalo is renowned for its heavily eroded sandstone landscape and hiking through the area. It is undoubtedly a very beautiful area with lots more weird and wonderful rocky formations. We were staying in a truly palatial hotel with little individual bungalows set in amongst the rocky outcrops to the south of Isalo NP. I had my own mezzanine with its’ own toilet! Again, apart from a coach load of ancient French tourists we were the only people staying in this beautiful hotel. Nice and relaxing but a bit eerie sometimes.
We did two walking circuits at Isalo. The first one was the walk to the Piscine Naturelle, a beautiful natural oasis in amongst the seemingly completely arid landscape. The colours in the water and the palm fringed pool backed against the prehistoric rock formations make it a pretty idyllic place to lounge around and soak up some of the southern sun. Until the coach load of French tourists caught us up…
The second day saw us slithering our way up the canyon on the way to the Piscine blue, Piscine noir and Cascade des Nymphs (frog waterfall. I didn’t see any frogs though). Lots of scrambling over slimy rocks, lots of lush, green soggy vegetation. It could easily have been a setting for a herbal essences/bounty advert! The afternoons were ours to entertain ourselves as we wished. There was a lot of lazing about, a lot of reading and Mum and Dad treated me to a massage which was incredible. I felt the most relaxed that I’ve felt in a long time.
The next stop on the itinerary was Tulear down on the coast and Ifaty, a small town to the north of Tulear which has stunning beaches. En route we saw our first baobab trees of the trip (yey!) and passed through the sapphire mining town of Ilakaka. As a western tourist I DO NOT recommend stopping in Ilakaka. It’s the only place in Madagascar where I have felt unsafe. Not a fun place to break down I would imagine.
We didn’t spend much time at all in Tulear itself but Ifaty was a very restful place to spend 3 nights. Gorgeous white sandy beaches, completely deserted with little pirogues dotted along the horizon. The Jones family mainly dossed about reading, sleeping, writing, listening to music and pootling along the beach. Dad and I went out for some snorkelling within the lagoon off Ifaty beach. I have to say that the fish were beautiful but the coral itself was pretty unimpressive. A lot of it has been bleached by rising sea temperatures and the coral has also been damaged by local fishing practices. It’s so difficult when the local tribe, the Vezo, depend so fully on the sea as a source of income but also as a definition of their identity. It makes it very difficult to reduce the pressure of fishing when the Vezo’s whole identity is so inextricably tied up with fishing in the area.
We did go to the very cool Reniala reserve at Ifaty. There were lots of weird and wonderful plants from the spiny desert there but I’m not going to lie, I was there for the baobabs and the baobabs alone. They are hilarious and I love them. Who wouldn’t?!
This baobab is 1200 years old. It definately deserved a hug.
Ifaty was the last place on the Jones family itinerary. The next 7 nights had been left blank for the Fort Dauphin experience!
It had been so good to get away from Fort Dauphin but it felt so so good to be getting back and catching up with everybody. Amazingly the Air Mad flight from Tulear to Fort Dauphin left over half an hour early. Although, we were flying on Independence day so maybe the pilot had a party to get back to?
Whilst in Fort Dauphin, with the exception of the day we arrived and one other day, the weather was truly grim. Cold, wet and windy. True winter weather. Not what we wanted from the south!
It was very surreal showing the folks around Fort Dauphin at first. The meeting of two different parts of my life which often feel like they’re from two different worlds! We went to Libanona beach, fed bananas to greedy lemurs at Nahampoana reserve and ate out a lot. The highlight for me personally was taking Mum and Dad out on a road trip to the bush to show them some of the projects I’ve been involved with over the past 9 months. We stopped off at Agnena to see the latrine and school that Azafady built, had lunch at the hotely at Mahatalaky, surveyed the swamp where we camped and saw the seedlings at Angazety and then on to St Luce to look at the Azafady tree nursery and campsite. It was a pretty long day but it was really good to show Mum and Dad where I’ve been living and what I’ve been doing for so long. When I do come back home it’ll be really good to have people to talk to who have actually been out and seen it.
It’s been really good fun catching up with Mum and Dad. Being able to completely turn off and tune out and not be responsible for anybody or anything has been so good. It was sad waving them off in Fort Dauphin but I know I’ll be seeing them soon and anyway, and besides, I had work to do!
The next load of pioneers came out, scheme number four. We’re off to Volobe Sud. One of the most remote villages that Azafady have ever worked in. It is miles away north of Ebakika and then some. We’re building a school and a latrine there. Lots of cement mixing! At least I’ll be good and fit and I now have a new spangly tent (with an integrated lighting system, I’m excited!).
My last scheme as coordinator. Very mixed feelings about it all. Very excited about the prospect of new challenges but there is an awful lot that I’m going to miss about being coordinator. Mainly the people. But I know that I need to give my body a rest and my mind something new to chew on. On that note I’d best go pack my bag for the bush tomorrow! I have a feeling it’s going to be a long but exciting day.
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Waiting
Katie and I were sat on a grassy verge at Belavenoka making bets on how many more hours we would have to wait before we would get a lift back to Fort Dauphin. We both felt that it was one of those “I’m really in Madagascar” days. You get them every now again when you realise that the things which you’ve come to see as every day are in fact far from what constitutes every day.
It’s been a fair while since I last blogged and so much has been going on that I think I have at times lost sight of the bigger picture, not seeing the wood for the trees and all that.
So, back to Belavenoka and the story behind why we were there and why I was in need of some R&R. The first bush placement for scheme 3 was back in Agnena to build a latrine (where we built a school last scheme). It was really great to be back there. Agnena is a magical place and it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside when I was greeted by a chorus of eager, grubby faces chanting my name as we arrived.
Gecko which was living between the layers of my tent
It’s been a fair while since I last blogged and so much has been going on that I think I have at times lost sight of the bigger picture, not seeing the wood for the trees and all that.
So, back to Belavenoka and the story behind why we were there and why I was in need of some R&R. The first bush placement for scheme 3 was back in Agnena to build a latrine (where we built a school last scheme). It was really great to be back there. Agnena is a magical place and it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside when I was greeted by a chorus of eager, grubby faces chanting my name as we arrived.
Grubby, smiley faces at Agnena.
Again, another strong, happy and amazingly laid back group of pioneers have so far made my job very easy. Particular praise goes to this group for coming out here in the midst of very negative press about the political situation in Madagascar. (NB The FCO warning on travel to Madagascar has now gone down a level so all those of you wanting to come visit, it’s now looking a bit easier!).
The weather had been fairly stormy during the first week of the scheme in town. We hadn’t been in Agnena 24 hours before a cyclone warning was issued for the Fort Dauphin area and the decision was made to bring us back to town (I’d managed to leave my tent back in Fort Dauphin so was quite glad to be able to get back to town to pick it up!). All was going to plan. We’d loaded the camion before the worst of the weather hit and we were homeward bound. Sadly, 5 minutes after leaving Agnena we got stuck in a marsh. When it became clear that we weren’t going to be able to rev our way out of the hole we all jumped off ready to push/pull our way out. I knew it would be a struggle when the water level almost reached to my knee as I jumped off the camion…
However, never, EVER underestimate the pulling power of 12 desperate pioneers, assorted Azafady staff members and near suicidal camion boys (who were seen pretty much sat under the wheels of the camion jamming branches and dry sand into the holes trying to give us more purchase on the ground…crazy). 3 hours later a jubilant hurrah went round as the camion was lurched out of its muddy pit by pure muscle power and roared up the drier road ahead.
The camion ride back was incredibly surreal. The stormy weather was yet to hit and there was an incredibly bright full moon. The landscape all the way back to town was lit by a very ethereal silvery light and since everybody was dozing or very much absorbed in their own thoughts of bed and warm drinks it felt very much like a waking dream. It was almost worth the 3 hour delay in the middle of nowhere.
Once the storm had passed through, we shipped back out to Agnena and got stuck right in to make up for lost time. This is the first time I’ve built a latrine and I am very glad we’re doing it at a cooler time of year. We have to hand-make the best part of 1000 cement bricks and mix a hell of a lot of concrete too. Previous pioneers who’ve had the pleasure of mixing cement by hand will know how hard it is. To build a latrine, you have to mix cement all day, every day for the whole time you’re there. Hard work but incredibly satisfying when you see your very own terracotta army of bricks lined up basking in the sun at the end of every day.
The weather had been fairly stormy during the first week of the scheme in town. We hadn’t been in Agnena 24 hours before a cyclone warning was issued for the Fort Dauphin area and the decision was made to bring us back to town (I’d managed to leave my tent back in Fort Dauphin so was quite glad to be able to get back to town to pick it up!). All was going to plan. We’d loaded the camion before the worst of the weather hit and we were homeward bound. Sadly, 5 minutes after leaving Agnena we got stuck in a marsh. When it became clear that we weren’t going to be able to rev our way out of the hole we all jumped off ready to push/pull our way out. I knew it would be a struggle when the water level almost reached to my knee as I jumped off the camion…
However, never, EVER underestimate the pulling power of 12 desperate pioneers, assorted Azafady staff members and near suicidal camion boys (who were seen pretty much sat under the wheels of the camion jamming branches and dry sand into the holes trying to give us more purchase on the ground…crazy). 3 hours later a jubilant hurrah went round as the camion was lurched out of its muddy pit by pure muscle power and roared up the drier road ahead.
The camion ride back was incredibly surreal. The stormy weather was yet to hit and there was an incredibly bright full moon. The landscape all the way back to town was lit by a very ethereal silvery light and since everybody was dozing or very much absorbed in their own thoughts of bed and warm drinks it felt very much like a waking dream. It was almost worth the 3 hour delay in the middle of nowhere.
Once the storm had passed through, we shipped back out to Agnena and got stuck right in to make up for lost time. This is the first time I’ve built a latrine and I am very glad we’re doing it at a cooler time of year. We have to hand-make the best part of 1000 cement bricks and mix a hell of a lot of concrete too. Previous pioneers who’ve had the pleasure of mixing cement by hand will know how hard it is. To build a latrine, you have to mix cement all day, every day for the whole time you’re there. Hard work but incredibly satisfying when you see your very own terracotta army of bricks lined up basking in the sun at the end of every day.
The fruits of our labour
Latrine pit under construction
Latrine almost done
Lomba's hair tries to escape
As a treat for all their hard work, we had a day trip to the fishing village of Itapera out on the coast a few hours walk from Agnena. We took a pirogue (dug out canoe) half way there which in itself was quite an adventure. We had 3 pirogues which were held together by a plank. It was a very stable structure with the two outer pirogues acting as outriggers. Despite dodgy appearances we still managed to fit 20 people on our raft! 
Safe as houses
We all made it there in one piece and the views were stunning. It’s another area of Madagascar which feels like the land that time forgot. Sand blown spaghetti on a deserted beach made it even more perfect.
The walk to Itapera
Itapera (above and below)
So that pretty much bring us back to Katie and I sat on a grassy verge at Belavenoka.
Aside from the work being very physical, I’ve been struck down with various stomach afflictions. The latest addition seems to be some form of worm. Brilliant. My tent has also completely broken and on a more personal level, things have been pretty difficult. A combination of all these things caught up with me during the latter stages of last week and I was feeling exhausted. Katie, who is the big sister I never had, swung in to full coordinator mode when she arrived at Agnena and insisted that she was taking me back to town for a few days proper rest. The only problem was finding transport to get us back to town.
We walked from Agnena to the village of Belavenoka on the main road where this blog entry began and waited for a friendly lobster car or taxi brousse to take us back to town. I don’t normally like waiting but in rural Madagascar, it’s not so bad. We were of great interest to all the passing foot traffic and a group of kids who lived in the house opposite where we were sat. We whiled away the time with a classic game of “What is…in English” which lasted a good while. A group of local ladies who were weaving baskets came and sat with us and chatted in the shade for a few hours. We ate a lot of sweets, got a bit giddy on sugar then dozed when the sugar rush wore off. An incredibly kind local guy saw Katie and I sat on the side of the road and around lunch time, he appeared with a huge bowl of steaming cassava for us to eat.
Sadly, it started to get dark and six hours after we first took up our vigil on the grassy verge there was no lift to town for Katie and Sarah. We decided to head back to Agnena that night and try again the next day.
And we were in luck! After only 4 hours of waiting the next day (and another impromptu meal from the wonderfully kind family who lived opposite our make shift look out post) a lobster car pulled up that was happy to take us back to Fort Dauphin. As is often the way in Fort Dauphin, he was the relative of somebody who worked for Azafady and was happy to help a friend out. It felt really good to be on the way back to town for a few days of complete rest before the pioneers head back.
Through being forced to sit still, sit back and wait, those many little gestures of kindness from everybody we saw in the many hours of sitting at the roadside really helped to snap me out of my somewhat zombiefied state. You’re forced to see life at the pace of the local Malagasy and when you’re in the same place for so long, you can build up a pretty accurate picture of a community. Life is very hard out here. I don’t even understand the half of what the local Malagasy have to do every day to put a meal on the table and there are still days when I feel completely broken. But, in spite of the daily assault that Madagascar places on your mind, body and soul this is still the life I want to be living and it was really good to get a reminder of that. It couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment.
Gecko which was living between the layers of my tent
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