In a regular village of no matter how many people, 80% will work within agriculture world and 15% will be artisanal, 60% are children. But it surely feels like more when you see them all over the place.
Even though the first day was physically challenging for me, I managed to survive. I'll tell you something though - never trust your friends when they tell you that it's gonna be a piece of cake when it comes to trekking in Madagascar. The country is everything BUT flat. I don't know what is more exhausting - the steep way up or the steep way down?! The sun was very high and very hot throughout the whole day, there wasn't one single tree kindly landing a shadow that we could've enjoyed. Yes, there is a gentle breeze most of the time and that's highly pleasant. So, now that I bitched and moaned (yes, I do say the "b" word occasionnally!), let me tell you about the day and what I have learned. Well, let me try anyway because there are so many things I would like to write about but so little energy left to do so.
We left Ambositra by a car, we rode to our departure village called Antoctra. Nothing very charming, it is really just a strategic crossroad for people to go either left or right. As soon as we arrived there, the kids were all over us asking us for 2 things. First to give them our bottle of water they believed empty and second to come and visit their atelier. They work mainly with wood and don't have many opportunities to sell their craft. Why is it always so heart breaking to refuse them your money? The other day, went I was at Tritriva lake, one of the hawker girls asked me for the money by buying something from her, then when I wasn't giving in she asked me to offer her my T-shirt. Obviously they play with the fact that school is expensive and they work in order to be able to get education. I joked by saying that if I had to give something to every single person who asked me for help, I would surely be already fully naked, that even my underwear would be gone because of my generosity. The kids laughed and said I could keep my undies but I should still give them some money. And so, as the biggest sucker of this earth that I am, I did.
Shortly after we started our walk, we arrived to Vatolahy - proud memorial stones are standing there and that's where they do sacrifices or should I say offerings for the deceased but only important people of the past. It isn't very far from the village and it's close enough to the road. Enough of frequency for the deceased to be remembered for their good deeds.
While we enjoyed the view and chilled, Tina told us about the school system in Madagascar. The first things first and unfortunately this goes almost without saying when it comes to poor countries. Boys are more useful in the field and so the girls attend the school more then them. The system in itself is very similar to the french school system. The primary school, the college are always in the village or very near by. Starting from the lyceum, the kids have to travel to a further village to get appropriated education. And then if they want to go to university, they'll go as far as 700 km away from their hometown and their families. The public primary school will cost the family 10.000Ar per year per child. If, none the less, they wish to put the child into a private school (there will be a religious education on the top of "public" way of educating), they will have to pay somewhere between 6.000-12.000Ar per month. Knowing that people earn something around 30€ per month, the cost for (even the) private school seems derisoire. Yet, their excuse number 1 for not putting the kids to school is the money.
It took us 4 exhausting hours and a short lunch break to get to Ankidodo village and I must tell you - it was a big plus for the others to walk well ahead of me because my non olympical shape was putting me into a very foul mood. OMG where are the times when I could do 4h (and more) of intensive training without breaking a sweat!?!?! Where did my endurance go? Now you put me in front of a hill and I'm KO just looking at it. While we had our lunch break, Tina told us about the traditional Malagasy wedding. To make a long story short - the broom gets financially broke even before he gets the woman. He needs to ask the parents of his future wife for the permission to marry her and then they put him through a test filled with tricky questions. In the South of Madagascar, the boy must steal a zebu to prove himself worthy. Ehm, go and figure how a thief is a good party for your child!
Now, Ankidodo is the most charming little place I've ever seen. In the middle of nowhere, without electricity, without water in the house. But they have everything else. Gorgeous wooden handmade houses, garden full of veggies and fruit trees, ducks, chicks, geese, turkey, pigs who live in harmony, they have and share love, complicity, fun, friendship, soon a football terrain. 150 people living there and more than half = kids!!! They were shy but curious. Smiling more than gladly, and as we were leaving the village, waving us goodbye like crazy. Before we got to Ankidodo, I thought I would just throw myself on the ground and let the boys carry me to our final destination. But that village recharged my batteries and I shall never forget its magic.
Another 90min of walk and we arrived to Faliarivo village (at 5:30pm). I must say that the more we walked, the greener the scenery got. Not to my dislike, I'll admit more than happily. I love all of the shades of green trapped under the blue and pink sky. The sun was going slowly but surely down and it was suddenly all worth the minerals that left my body through the sweat, it was worth the imaginary tears of frustration I cried. The dinner was royal - hot chocolate to drink, peanuts to munch on, arranged rum to taste (don't be so shocked, I had nowhere to hide and had to try it!). And then when we were almost full, noodle soup with eggs arrived. And after that a huge portion of rice with zebu steak and tomatoes. And when we thought it was all over and we could take no more, half a pineapple was sitting bravely in front of us. It's 9pm and I'm off to bed. The toothbrush will have to wait until the morning. The face is gonna stay covered in Malagasy dust, Slovak sweat and the feet are gonna stay stinky. But who cares? It was an awesome day.
No comments:
Post a Comment