Happy New Year

So it's been too long, sorry! Here's what's new:

Before school started back up for 2012, I went up the west side of Lake Alaotra to the "country house" of the family here in Ambato that PCVs in the region are always friends with. They own rice fields there and use the country house as a base from which to direct farming operations. They have a considerably large holding, so they pay locals to do almost all of the labor. But I didn't know that when they invited me up to help transplant rice that weekend. I think they just wanted me to have the experience of planting rice while I was here, for which I am very thankful.

Took the taxi-brousse up to the country house with Miomehy, which wasn't too bad. Got the middle front seat squished between the driver and a cop who was traveling with us. Had my backpack on my lap and had to move my leg a little when the driver shifted gears, but when the cop got out I moved over to the window seat (felt like first class with all the leg room). Arrived around noon, hung out for a bit and then ate some rice before heading out into the fields.

Walking to the part of the rice field we were going to be working on was a bit of a challenge. For me, not for the Gasys. The fields are divided into sections by mud walls/barriers that also serve as walkways. I don't know if Gasys are so good at walking along the narrow paths because they are short, they've been doing it their whole lives, or just have rice farming in their blood (probably the second one). In any case, my inexperience, height, and white blood weren't doing me any favors that day. In fact, as I struggled to keep up with Miomehy while also not falling into the water, I thought about a story about my own mother (sorry Mom!). Her side of the family is known for its clumsiness, and one day she was walking along a planter wall in LA's Japan town when she lost her balance and, rather than falling in, jumped in to avoid injury. Needless to say, she has had a hard time living it down, which provided some good motivation for me to keep my balance. I had to channel every bit of mental effort to overcome the clumsy genes she gave me!

After about 15 minutes of walking, we finally arrived at our planting spot. It was a wet, muddy section of land, so I took off my sandals and hopped in. It was a relief to finally be in the mud and not have to worry about falling into it anymore. The transplanting process goes like this: Grab a handful of young plants, pick off four or five at a time, and shove them into the mud. Though it is really simple, I was anxious that I was doing it wrong the whole time. Are my plants too far apart? Am I putting the roots too far into the mud? Am I putting too many into one spot? Luckily, I did fine and we got a good amount planted before darkness fell.

We went back at it in the morning too, though only for a couple of hours because I had to head back to Ambato for school the following day.

So the process for getting back to Ambato goes like this: Wait by the side of the road and flag down any vehicle that passes by. Unfortunately, it was Sunday AND the day before school started back up again, so the taxi-brousses that were on the road were mostly full. After waiting about two and a half hours, a brousse finally stopped for me. It was packed. I asked how much to Ambato (should be 3,000 Ariary). Guy: "Four thousand" Me: "But it should be three" Guy (to the driver): "Let's go!" Me: "Okay okay!" And with that, I hopped on the back of the van and held on tight. Luckily I was able to stand inside the vehicle after only a few miles, and got a seat after a few more. It was a fun weekend trip and I'm planning to head up again when they're harvesting.

Other events of interest include new years parties. Many people go on vacation over the holidays, so new years parties are held in January and February (at least I am guessing that's the reason). So I got to attend four parties between mid-Jan and mid-Feb. The first was the students' party at my lycee. But it wasn't one party; each classroom had its own DJ and sound system, so there were about 30 different dance parties going on at once. The class I was responsible for was sharing a room with another class, so it was a big party. And for most of it, I was the only adult supervising. Fortunately, the kids here are much better behaved than American youngsters (I know, I was one of them a very short time ago). But unlike America, I as chaperone was expected to dance with them. I had a great time with them, and kept my distance from the girls!

The next day was the teachers' party. So much better than the students party. For one, we ate geese (delicious). We also started drinking before noon. We had karaoke and dancing, and I teamed up with the other English teachers on such classics as "We Are the World," "Billy Jean," some Celine Dion, and Jason Mraz - "I'm Yours." Another good time all around.

The next two new years parties were fun but not particularly interesting. Lots of speeches, a good amount of praying, and some dancing. And I only have ten more months until I get to celebrate the next new year!

I also went on a long bike ride last month. It was a lot of fun but really tiring.. I rode over 53 miles on dirt roads in one day! 

Oh yeah, a cyclone passed through here a couple of weeks ago. Cyclone's are the same as hurricanes, but they spin in the opposite direction and occur in the southern hemisphere rather than the northern. It wasn't very bad here, just high winds and a lot of steady rain. A few trees and fences down, a few roads flooded, and that about did it for Cyclone Giovanna here in the Alaotra area. However, further south, and especially near the coast, many homes were damaged or destroyed and at least 31 people were killed. A tropical storm just passed through here yesterday and last night, very similar to the weather during the cyclone but with lower wind speeds. Hoping that the coast is spared any more cyclones this season, though we still have a couple months before we're in the clear.

I recently finished another building project here at the house. The previous volunteer, Tom, planted a passion fruit vine, but it was just growing on the fence (and growing fast!). So I put a post in the ground and made a little trellis with bamboo. My next door neighbor got angry that I used bamboo and told me it wasn't strong enough. I got annoyed that he was being kind of an jerk and told him that it was fine, and if it broke I would fix it. (My neighbor is a little strange, not too nice, and not typical of the local culture which is very INdirect). The trellis survived the cyclone, but the bamboo here weakens as it dries, so I had to replace it the other day. It is now made of real wood and matanjaka tsara (real strong)!

My students are all taking exams this week, and I proctored all day yesterday. We are fortunate to have a photocopy of every exam for each student, whereas other schools make the teachers write entire exams on the blackboard. They also make the students sit next to students who are taking a different test than them to prevent cheating (it's pretty rampant here if left unchecked). I actually caught a cheater only a couple of hours in yesterday. He went to the bathroom and I became suspicious that he might confer with classmates who had already turned in their exams. I went outside and saw him doing just that. My proviseur (principal) went and found him for me, made him turn in his test that instant, and had me write down the incident on the observation form. Gotcha!

Okay I think that's cool for now. I'm only like four weeks away from Easter break, which I am really looking forward to. I haven't been out of the area for a while (feels like longer than it is) and I really want to see the coast here (haven't gone yet). I will post more pictures when I get the chance. Until next time! Manaraka indray!

Authenticity

This post is not a general update; it is about the idea of authenticity.

I should explain. I was reading a fellow PCV's blog a few weeks ago, and was intrigued by its argument. The author wrote about how glad he was that he doesn't have electricity at his site because he feels he has had a better or more real Peace Corps experience without it.

As a PCV in an urban setting, with electricity, running water, and access to the Internet, I find this type of argument a little unsettling to say the least. Actually, I was a little offended by the implication that I am having a lesser Peace Corps experience because I do have access to more "luxuries" than the author. I guess the irony that he lamented the spread of technology in Peace Corps life in a blog post was lost on him.

The idea of the "real Peace Corps experience" is not a new one, and is similar to other claims of authenticity. You aren't a real Lakers fan because you aren't from LA. He isn't a real black man because he "acts white." Some of these claims are obviously more benign than others, but comparing them can get you thinking about which are reasonable and which aren't.

I have two aunts and an uncle who were PCVs in Senegal from 1969-1972, before the Internet and even cell phones. They are blown away that I can Skype with my parents so easily and have commented on how much the Peace Corps experience has changed since they were volunteers. They were certainly not blogging, though the "real" PCVs of today who live without electricity still can when they are in larger towns (every PCV goes at least once a month for banking).

There is no question that having electricity and running water makes my life easier here, and that being able to talk with people back home is really nice. But the hardest part of Peace Corps is not the separation from electricity and running water, or even the Internet. The hardest part is being away from everything that is familiar and comfortable: friends and family, American culture, your native language. I have just as hard a time being away from these things, the important things, as any other volunteer. Plus, the difficulty of PCV life shouldn't determine how authentic one's experience is (though it certainly earns the respect of fellow PCVs like myself). I think I will get just as much out of my Peace Corps experience being plugged in as I would have had I been completely off the grid, thank you very much.

But I think what really bothers me about calling some Peace Corps experiences more real or authentic than others is that the standard for a "real" experience seems quite similar to Western notions of the "real" Africa. The "real" PCV lives in the village, without modern amenities, cut off from the rest of civilization, just like "real" Africans do. The ones in the cities, with electricity and nice homes, the ability to satisfy their every need, are not "really" Africans or PCVs. They are imposters, coddled Westerners who just happen to live in Africa.

The point is that what makes a PCV a PCV or an African an African are not superficial things like electricity. In the case of Africans, the idea of citizenship should be used in place of culture or ethnicity in determining who is African (if you are a citizen of an African country, you are African). For PCVs, living for two years in an underdeveloped country far from home with the goal of educating and empowering individuals and communities is a sufficient standard.

I taught two classes of 60 students today and struggled with Malagasy language and talkative kids, though I now feel incredibly good considering it is the Monday of the first week of school after Christmas vacation. Now I'm blogging about it, and I'm really glad I can share my thoughts and experiences with you.

Arabaina tratra ny taona daholo! (Happy new year everyone!)

Brick Oven

I've mentioned my oven a few times in previous posts, but I haven't gotten a chance to write about it properly until now. So here's the story!

During the first few weeks of training, most of the guys in our group were pretty much starving all the time. We also had to sit through some boring and only semi-useful training sessions, during which I began designing a brick oven to build once I got to site. I would sit near the back of the classroom at the school we used for our sessions, mouth watering over the thought of eating a homemade, brick oven-fired pizza, while my friend Anders daydreamt about buffalo chicken calzones. 

I arrived at my new house a month and a half later to find over 200 bricks and a bag of cement left by my predecessor, (thanks Tom !). I bought a mortar spreader at the market, but other supplies were a little harder to procure. I needed two pieces of sheet metal cut to specific sizes and sand to mix with cement. When I asked people where I could get the sheet metal, they would say "At the market," yet the market area here in Ambato is really the entire downtown area. Eventually, I tracked down a vendor who sold sheet metal and would cut it to my specifications. Score!

Sand was another story. In the US, of course, I would have made a trip to Home Depot and gotten all my supplies at once, including a bag of ready-mix mortar. But this is Madagascar, and there are no Home Depots. So you have to mix cement with sand to make concrete or mortar. I asked my friend Eddy where I could get some sand. 

"You can go get sand down the hill from here."

"So you can't buy sand? Because in the US we just buy sand when we need it."

"No, you don't have to buy sand here, you can just go take it."

Ah what a nice reminder of how much we Americans value convenience that buying sand was the preferred option for me. In any case, I looked "down the hill" from my house, near the rice fields, but did not find any sand. I asked a man who I saw on the road, who told me his son could take me to go get sand that Saturday. I told him that would be great, bought a large bag to carry the sand, and showed up ready to go as planned.

I followed his son, a student in his final year at the high school, about half a mile or so into the rice fields before we got to the drainage ditch/dried up creek area with the sand. We loaded up probably 30 or 40 pounds of sand into the bag, then headed back. It was a regular hot day under the harsh, high in the sky, tropical sun in Ambato, and I began sweating profusely almost immediately. It didn't help that the sand was really damn heavy. He volunteered to help, so we traded off carrying the bag until we got out of the rice fields. I carried the sand up the hill to my house alone, suffering all the way up. I immediately jumped in the cold shower upon arrival. I was really missing cars and their trunks that day.

But I had all my supplies, so construction could begin! I set up some bricks without mortar to see what the oven would look like, then took all but the last row down and started mixing cement.

I got the first row plus the floor done on the first day, though I did encounter a speed bump. I looked up the ratio of cement to sand, which was supposed to be 1:3 or so for mortar. But that ratio was terrible and nothing stuck together. I had to use a ratio of 2:1 cement to sand to get it sticky enough, possibly because the cement wasn't very good, possibly because I couldn't read the bag of cement very well. In any case, after day one:

I got a nice sunburn on my back that first day, so I was careful to only work really early in the morning thereafter (by about 6:30 the sun was too high for me). But this meant that many days I was just too lazy to get up at 5 and work. Slowly but surely, I added bricks to the oven, and installed the wooden door I would use to add wood to the fire.

I then put in the internal piece of sheet metal which serves as the oven rack, followed by a few more rows of bricks and a sheet metal capstone. And voila! My oven during its maiden voyage:

You may notice the absence of a door in the door area. When the rains came, the wood expanded so much that I had to take the door off the hinges to even get it off. I also found out that the one door was not nearly sufficient for enough air to come through, so the fire always went out. I had to use my hammer and chisel to break holes into the two sides, and now the air flow is pretty good. The wooden frame on the door catches fire on occasion, and the smoke from using firewood can be a bit much for some dishes (like cookies), so I might be switching to charcoal in the near future. I also want to build a barbeque attachment to be able to grill on my oven. But for now, I'm proud of my work... and craving pizza (which, by the way, turned out really well when I made it the first time!).

Christmas, and My First Chicken Kill

Christmas has come and gone, though it doesn't feel like either actually happened. Since Malagasy people really don't get into the holiday spirit like Americans do, I was without family and in blazing hot weather, it felt more like a random day in August than December 25th.

The market here in Ambato was packed on Christmas Eve (one of the only ways you could tell it was holiday season), but the whole town has been dead ever since. I had a good time hanging out with Ava here, and got to meet my Ambato predecessor. But now, there's not much to do. School's on break, and the CISCO (like the school district office) is closed, so I can't really work on my work here. I should spend the free time cleaning my house, but that's no fun. So blogging it is!

One interesting thing about Christmas was killing and cooking my first chicken, a Peace Corps milestone. It was waaayy too expensive because everyone buys birds during the holidays. Carried it back to my house (felt really cool carrying a chicken around), boiled some water, then got the knife and did it. It only twitched around a little bit after it died. By far the worst part was gutting it. After I dunked it in boiling water and pulled all the feathers off, I started gutting it. It looked really easy in a YouTube video I watched before coming to Madagascar, but whatever trick they used in the video I could not figure out. I got the guts halfway out, but then couldn't figure out how to detach them from the inside of the body for like 10 minutes. Found out the chicken was female when I found the place where all her egg yolks were stored (kinda weird), and also found some undigested corn kernels from earlier that morning.

I finally got the guts completely detached and into the bowl when I realized I didn't know what to do with them. The same happened with the feathers, which are currently on my compost pile (might just burn them). But I read in our PC cookbook that PCVs often offer chicken guts to neighbors in return for gutting them, so I headed next door with the guts and severed head on a plate and asked my neighbor if he wanted them. He did, and appeared to be very happy to have them. Two minutes later, he came to my house with some meat in a little bowl. "Mihinana kisoa?" (Do you eat pork?), he asked. Yes, I replied, at which point he pointed to his ear, indicating that the piece of meat I had just accepted was a cooked pig's ear. Kinda wished he hadn't told me that last part, because while [parts of it] tasted good, the thought of eating an ear really took away from the pleasure of actually eating it. It reminded me of a study where different people were given identical food, but for half the food was a weird color, like blue french fries. Surprise surprise, the colored food group rated the food as tasting worse than the control group. Anyway, I ate a lot of it and fed the rest to the neighbor's dog (without telling him, of course).

I baked the chicken in my oven, but I'm probably not going to do it again. The skin got really cooked and dry and hard. But the meat still tasted good! I think I also need to use charcoal for some things I cook.

All for now, I'm going to head to the market and figure out what to cook today. My site predecessor Tom has been using my bike the last few days and is returning it today. So I think I'll go for a ride tomorrow morning. Then I'm planning on riding to Ava's site to visit after the first. Don't have new years plans yet, though there will be parties here in Ambato. Might go with some other PCVs in the area. Merry Christmas, happy new year, happy Hanukkah!

Tana! And Other Stuff...

Wow it's been a while, sorry about that! I've been getting pretty well-settled into my life and work here. This will be a general update, then I'll write up some specific stories later.

So I guess I'll start with Thanksgiving. All but one of the other volunteers in my area came to Ambato and we had dinner with a Malagasy family that has been close with PCVs for a long time (they have a son who married a PCV ten years ago). They made geese (delicious, tastes like chicken), and the rest of us made different American Thanksgiving dishes (I made yam tangerine casserole, the amazing dish my dad makes every year). We had a great time and gorged ourselves like good Americans.

Eating geese also got me thinking- why not eat the Canada geese that live by Lake Merritt in Oakland? There are way too many of them and they're just sitting there waiting to be captured. So I looked it up, and other people have thought of the same thing in other parts of the country. And they've eaten the geese and they're apparently pretty good. So watch out Oakland geese, I'm coming for you in fall 2013.

The sad part of Thanksgiving weekend was saying goodbye to two of the volunteers in our region who have since gone back to the US (one is extending for one year in Mali!). We only had a couple of months to get to know them, but they will be missed.

I finished up the school term here a couple of weeks ago, meaning I gave and graded 400 quizzes in four days. Then did grades for the term. Luckily I was rewarded for my hard work with a trip to Tana! Ava and I left Ambato Friday morning (two weeks ago) on the taxi brousse. I hadn't been more than 25 km (16 miles) outside my site until then, so it was exciting to get out of town. The road wasn't too bad, and I had sort of enough room for my legs. Oh, to get an idea of how transportation works here: they told us to show up at 7, we showed up at 7:45, they told us we'd be leaving at 8:30, we left the station at 9:30, drove around town to pick people up who had sent family to hold their seats for them, and got out of town finally at 9:50. Stopped for lunch around noon, got to Moramanga (busy transit city) at 3. But traffic in Tana was bad and despite coming from the east, our brousse station is on the west side of town. So that sucked.

But we were in Tana and reunited with most of the rest of our training group! We went to a tex mex restaurant for dinner (the waitress lives in downtown LA and was visiting family, so random). Then had a liter of draft beer at a vazaha hotel followed by rum on the side of the street with some other volunteers who were in town (cheaper than buying it in bars haha). Brunch the next morning at an American-style restaurant-bakery called the cookie shop (first latte since coming to Mada). Explored Tana a bit, caught up with friends, and spent a third of my monthly allowance at two grocery stores (found gin!).

Our group headed up to Mantasoa that Monday for our training. It was great to see all the PC staff again. I really like and respect them, and the ones who I don't aren't working for PC anymore (they were contract employees). The training itself was okay, some sessions were better than others. Thursday we got to go visit our host families, so Sam Anders and I went together. Unfortunately, my whole family except for my Dad had already left for a family wedding in Tana! (The wedding for the couple whose engagement party I attended during pre-service training). But we still had fun hanging with the dads and Sam and Anders' families.

Oh, and I took an LPI during training too (the Peace Corps language test). It was optional, but I wanted to see how much Malagasy I had learned since training. Turns out a good amount. I went from intermediate high in September to advanced mid now! There are only two higher levels, advanced high and superior. Since one of the reasons I joined PC was to learn another language fluently, I am really happy to be making good progress this early on.

Tana again last weekend. Anders was invited to play on the US embassy's basketball against a Malagasy retired military team, so a few of us went to watch that. Anders was one of two white people on the team (the rest were Gasys who work for the embassy) and helped them win by 25 points. The guy from the embassy who played and drove us there took us out to lunch afterward and invited us to his house to watch the Super Bowl! If the Niners make it, I will be most certainly travelling to Tana for that.

Sunday I travelled across Tana to visit with the rest of my host family, which was really nice. We ate lunch, talked, and drank rum. I love having family here to visit.

Had to leave Tana on Monday, so I called to reserve a spot on the taxi brousse the night before. They said to show up at 8, and a friend said that she has never left before 10. I had to pick up some things from the PC office in the morning, so I showed up around 9:30. Aaaannnd the brousse had already left. And they said that all the other ones going to AmbatoAmbato, but the west side of Lake Alaotra. So when we got to the crossroads about 25 km out of town, my driver paid another driver to take me the rest of the way into town. All's well that ends well I guess.

I had bought four pounds of plums in Tana as voandalana (literally "seed of the road"- small gifts given to friends upon arrival from a trip), but half of them got smashed on the brousse. So I salvaged the good ones to give away, and left the rest of them overnight while I figured out what to do with them. Jelly? Seemed like too much work. But in the morning it hit me: booze! There's a recipe in our PC cookbook for homemade wine, so I pulled it out, pitted the mushy plums, boiled them with sugar, added yeast, and now there's wine fermenting in my living room! PC is making me very resourceful.

I've been back at site for a few days now, and this morning I went on a bike ride. I had just installed toe clips and inflated my tires using a new pump I bought in Tana, and they made a huge difference in ease of riding. I biked about 32 km round trip (16 miles), and I think I'm gonna be sore tomorrow. Oh, and I planted some more bok choy, some squash, jalapenos and basil yesterday. And I'm starting to turn a former volunteer's dog house into a chicken house. Yep, getting chickens soon!

All for now, look for some more posts about making a brick oven, killing a rat, and teaching in Madagascar soon!

Weekend in Ambatosoratra and Andreba... More Lemurs!

The past weekend was Halloween in the US, but All Saints' Day vacation here in Madagascar. School was out from Friday until Tuesday, and many students were able to visit relatives over the break. And I got the chance to really leave my site for the first time since getting here.

I taught my class last Thursday morning, then packed and headed for the taxi-brousse station (the main mode of transportation here- generally old van-type vehicles that are packed with people and goods). Caught a brousse to Ambatosoratra, my friend Ava's site, and stayed with her for the next couple of nights.

Ambatosoratra is a lot smaller and quieter than my site, Ambatondrazaka. The market is very small and not very busy. But the people seemed just as nice and the landscape was just as beautiful. 

On Saturday, Ava and I took a taxi-brousse a few km (a mile) down the road to Andreba, an environment volunteer named Jennifer's site. And later in the afternoon, all the other volunteers from around the Lake Alotra/Ambatondrazaka area arrived too. (There are nine of us total.) We were all meeting up for our area's VAC meeting (volunteer advisory committee, I tihnk?). We discussed best practices and areas we would like PC Madagascar to change, then business was over and the fun began. We cooked dinner, had a campfire, and made smores! So good.

Oh, and Jennifer's house is at Camp Bandro, where tourists can come to see the Bandro lemurs, which are found only on Lake Alaotra. You should check out the recent BBC documentary on Madagascar's wildlife if you haven't seen it already. They have some great footage of the Bandro and a behind the scenes look at filming on the lake, in which they interview the guy who is the main guide at Camp Bandro. In any case, our plan was to go out on the lake Sunday morning to see the lemurs.

But first, I would have to get through the night. We rented bungalows to sleep all but one of us, so I volunteered myself for the floor. This normally wouldn't be an issue, but I didn't have a mosquito net and the bungalows are not exactly impermeable. So I was lying there trying to go to sleep when I started hearing loud buzzing noises. Mosquitoes. Very loud mosquitoes. I'd hear them approaching me, land, and I'd smack them away. Sometimes they successfully bit me. In any case, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. I figured I would get eaten alive if I didn't stay awake swatting them away. So I did.

This lasted for a couple of hours, by which time I decided to figure out a different solution. I tried putting articles of clothing over all the exposed areas of my body, which was impractical and very hot. Eventually, the mosquitoes stopped buzzing and I figured it was safe enough to go to sleep. It kind of sucked at the time, but as I was laying there with a pair of boxers on my head trying to avoid the bites of blood thirsty mosquitoes, I thought to myself: Hey, this would make a great story for my blog. I chuckled in my head as I regained some perspective; I might be losing a lot of sleep because I'm sleeping on the floor without a mosquito net, but I'm doing it as a PC Volunteer in Madagascar and I'm going out on the lake in the morning to see the rare Bandro lemur. So I slept soundly on the floor that night, amazing considering how hard it was.

4:45 AM: Rise and shine! Time to see lemurs! Kind of. First, we had to walk about 10 minutes to the lake. We got in four canoes and pushed off, the beautiful sunrise at our backs and the anxious anticipation of lemur sighting ahead of us. We were heading out at the same time as the local fishermen, so we were a few canoes in a line of dozens going out on Lake Alaotra that morning. 

 It was smooth sailing until we turned out of the canal and towards the area where the lemurs live. Then we realized how shallow the lake is. Apparently as a result of climate change, the lake did not see much rain last year. Though certainly exacerbated by human consumption and irrigation, this was the primary cause for the current low water level. The upshot was that our guides could not paddle the canoes anymore but had to get in the lake and push us. This went on for at least 45 minutes, with us volunteers feeling terribly guilty and touristy for being pushed in canoes through the mud. When we got close to the reeds where the lemurs were, I couldn't stand it anymore. I got out of the canoe and helped push.

I wouldn't call it a bad decision, but I probably won't be doing it again. The water level was about six inches to a foot, but the mud level was another foot and a half below that. I was not much help with the pushing, so I just trudged along grabbing the canoe to keep myself from falling completely into the water. Soon, we could make out black dots in the reeds, and as we got closer we could make out the shapes of small, furry animals- the Bandro reed lemurs!

 I was ecstatic. I had been seriously concerned that we wouldn't be able to see them, so when I finally did it was a huge relief. And they are awesome! Since I was already in the water, I got to walk around the reeds they were sitting in and get a behind the scenes look for myself. One of them was even carrying two baby lemurs! Then they jumped from reed to reed and made their way back home to go to sleep for the day. Awesome.

Then the return trip. The guides decided that they would try a different path through the mud, which was not a good idea. I think it ended up being even longer than the trip out. We didn't get back onto dry land again until 9:45, almost five hours after leaving the camp in the morning. I was very dirty and tired, but also tan. 

I rinsed off back at the camp, and ate three large bowls of vary amin'ny anana (a wet rice with greens that is the most common breakfast here). Delicious.

All in all, it was a great weekend. I got to get out of town for a few days, see friends and lemurs, and meet some cool people. It also made me appreciate the electricity and running water (and shower!) at my house. Kind of like how this whole experience is making me appreciate how good we have it back in the states.

I'm off to the market now. And I'm planning on building my brick oven this weekend, so wish me luck! (I've never built anything out of bricks before... should be fun.)

Photos... of Lemurs!

Here are a few pictures! The first four were taken by my outstanding friend Anders in Andasibe this past August. (There were ten of us on the trip, why bring another camera?) The last six are from this week. Hopefully I'll get to see more lemurs in 2 weeks, in which case you'll get more photos!

The Parson's Chameleon - The largest in Madagascar, but it doesn't change colors.

Brown Lemurs huddled together in a tree.

The Indrindri (or Babakoto) - Largest and loudest lemur.

Common Dwarf Lemur - Crawled into this desk drawer to eat a banana peel.

My fence after a storm last week.

Some photos I took while on a walk a few km outside of Ambato:

And...

My next door neighbor :)

Settling In

Sorry about the delay in posting again. Been trying to settle into my new life here in Ambato, which can be tiring at times.

My new house is starting to feel more like my home, though I still haven’t done much in the way of decorating. Which shouldn’t surprise anyone who saw my apartment in Seattle, where David and I left the walls in our living room bare for two years. Figured out that there are no rats in the ceiling (yay!), just bats. And like, 30 or more of them. A little bit of their powdery poop falls from the ceiling, which sounds bad but it only falls near certain walls, so it’s pretty easy to avoid. Also, bat guano is supposed to be awesome fertilizer, so sometimes I just sweep it up and dump it into my garden.

Which reminds me, I started a garden! I planted rosemary, oregano, carrots, onions, and bok choy, about two and a half weeks ago I think. There are small sprouts, but still not sure which are what plant and which if any are weeds. My next garden bed should be better because I’ll actually have compost ready for it when I plant it.

The whole teaching situation has been a little bit crazy. School was supposed to start last week, but the schedule wasn’t ready until Thursday, then only some teachers taught Friday (I don’t teach Fridays). Monday, I taught my first two classes. I just introduced myself and talked a little bit about Peace Corps (in English and Malagasy), then had them introduce each other. Did the same with my first class on Tuesday, but after I taught it some of the students came up and said it should have been French class, not English. Turns out, the schedule I was given was wrong. My Tuesday classes are actually both on Wednesday, so I will be teaching four classes each Wednesday for a total of eight hours, yay. But I still have Fridays off and now I have Tuesdays off too. Looking on the bright side!

I also finally got out of the city on Wednesday. I was getting a little stir crazy and really wanted to explore a little. From my house on top of a hill, I can see really far. So I decided I was going to just walk out of town. I went about two miles out, turned onto a different road, passed through a couple of villages that clearly don’t see many white people, and saw a path up one of the big hills in the area that I will probably explore another time. Being limited by not having a bike is a little frustrating, though I’ll be getting one in early December. I’m also planning to visit a friend’s site in two weeks and go out on the lake to see the reed lemurs. So I’m looking forward to that.

Being here at site has been kind of challenging overall. I think I glossed over the hard parts when thinking about coming to Ambato and joining Peace Corps in general. Integration is probably the biggest challenge, next to language. I’m trying to work on both, but it’s a slow process. And while I’m thankful that my house is quiet and secluded (when there aren’t hundreds of students around), it means I have to seek out friends/people to form relationships with. And living in a big city (probably near 80,000) makes it hard to figure out exactly who I should be seeking out. One person who sells stuff near my house is nice, but kind of annoys me. And my closest “friend” here so far asked me to borrow money the other day, making me wonder if I was naïve in thinking he wanted to be my friend for my sake and not as a way to get things from me.

Luckily, two of the other English teachers I’ve met are really nice and one even invited me to go swimming. I think I need to give everything time and try to branch out and meet more people. Maybe when I start really teaching things will get easier.

I’ll upload some pictures soon, including some of lemurs :)

Until next time!