Apr 11, 2020
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Toliara
We've now arrived in the city of Tuléar (Toliara in the Malagasy spelling), on the southwest coast of Madagascar. This is also where I'll be for my ISP in April (well, I'll actually be at a research station north of the city, but it's not too far) and I've already fallen in love with it. It's much bigger than Fort Dauphin and has millions of delicious food options (things I've already eaten: pizza, lasagna, fish, ravioli, crabs, shrimp, yogurt, bread that isn't a baguette), as well as a lot more vazaha. Even aside from those things, it generally feels very different. In order to get to this little restaurant where I'm drinking a nice cold guava juice, I took a pousse-pousse (basically a rickshaw), which don't even exist in Fort Dauphin, but are everywhere here.` I'm rambling a bit here, so I'll just give a brief summary of the past few days: On Sunday, I got up bright and early, said my good-byes to my host family, and we were off to the airport. We had a little bit of trouble at security because our legalized photocopies of our passports had expired dates for our visas, but we managed to get through anyway. The flight was extremely short and we didn't even get water, but it was fine. We had quite a few lectures, but they mostly took place in a very nice classroom at the IHSM (Institut d'Halieutique et des Sciences Marines), part of the University of Tuléar, where we could see the ocean and the mangroves. We also got a tour of the little museum they run there, which had a lot of nice shells and other specimens, but most importantly a coelacanth. For those of you not particularly well-versed in your evolutionary biology, coelacanths were believed to be extinct until they were found off the South African coast in 1938. They're the oldest lineage of lobe-finned fishes and tetrapods (amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals). Probably this doesn't sound very exciting for those of you who aren't biologists, but I had my picture taken with it. We were staying at a campground at Namakia, south of Tuléar, which had mangroves and was very nice for swimming. We had some pretty delicious meals there at a restaurant owned by a Swiss ex-pat (I ate many a crab) and the last night, we had a sheep-roast at Jim's villa with the local villagers. It was quite the experience and the food was delicious. We also went to a lot of lectures, both in Tuléar and at the restaurant, so that was basically what was happening for quite a while. And now we're in Tuléar for the day, which is being really nice. Tomorrow we're heading north of here to Mangily, which is supposed to be wonderful, so I'll let you know what that's like on Friday when I have internet again.
Hey whitey, you want some oysters?
I have now officially been in Madagascar for two weeks, so it seems to me that I’ve reached the point where I can make some general realizations and acknowledge some adjustments I’ve had to make. Before that though, just a disclaimer that given my extremely limited and slow internet access, I’ve decided to only post photos to Facebook and not here as well, so that’s where they all are (and the privacy settings are no longer strangely set to me being the only one who can see them, so they’re even visible).
Pretty much everywhere we go in Madagascar, either in a group or individually, people shout “vazaha” at us, which means foreigner, non-Malagasy, or if you’ll grant me the artistic license, whitey. Which is the reason for this post’s title. That said, it’s not meant perjoratively – it’s just Malagasy culture to say that when you see a foreigner go by. Countless small children have greeted me with a big smile and a “Bonjour, vazaha!” Whenever we drive by in our vans or our bus, people will stop and stare and shout it again. And then yesterday when we are at Lokaro (possibly the most beautiful beach I’ve ever seen in my life), a man walked up to me and tried to sell me some oysters (“Bonjour vazaha, vous voulez des huîtres?”) So that’s new, but I think I’m doing alright with it.
I’ve also just realized that it’s the middle of February. And I’m constantly sweating and going to the beach. This is definitely not a bad thing, but it’s taking some getting used to. I fully anticipated being hot all the time, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the refreshing virtues of bucket showers. Even though they’re definitely not the same as real showers, the cold water feels amazing on my face every morning – I’m also not losing moisture all the time and my life is much more water-efficient than at home. In contrast, squatting has been more of an acquired taste. The latrine is infinitely better than the chamberpot I have to use at night though – because Maman Dette doesn’t want me going outside in the night. The latrine is also where my next big adjustment has come into play – cockroaches. The few times that I’ve used the latrine around dusk, it’s been completely packed with cockroaches. I was prepped for exotic tropical bugs (Hissing Cockroaches, etc.) but I completely forgot about the more typical ones. There have also been ants all over the place.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I am eating so much more ramen noodles than I’m used to. My family has given me a lot of big bowls of soup with ramen noodles. The most interesting one was last night, when I got scrambled eggs and green onions in it. Pretty good, but I definitely preferred lunch today, when we had a huge fish that Tonton N’Aina bought yesterday at Evatraha with some taboara (squash) and of course, lots of vary (rice).Which brings me to my last point. Nearly every time I’ve eaten fish here, it’s been the entire fish. Complete with bones, head, and fins. The very first time this happened, we each got a little fish to ourselves. I was too hungry to care then, and since then I think I’ve gotten over it. Although I still haven’t brought myself to eat anything too near the head.