Back to the simple life, back to knowing everyone you pass on the street, back to full meals for less than a dollar. I've come back to a world much smaller than my previous, much more limited, much more isolated. But it wasn't the isolation from other Americans or even modern amenities that I was concerned about; it was the 20 chickens that the airline wouldn't allow me to bring as carry-on, and forced me to check.
Being out here in the ambanivohisty (the countryside), there is no access to what others take for granted; improved seed varieties and chicken breeds (of course). So I had to bring the chickens from Antananarivo (the capitol). They wanted to sell me 50, but I convinced them to sell me only 20, 10 improved egg layers and 10 improved meat producers. Our plan is to make a mixed breed with country chickens that are easier to care for and less susceptible to diseases.
Thankfully, despite the rough plane ride and one night living in the bathtub, they're doing just fine. They'll be home in two days, and so will I.
As nice as it will be to get back home, our vacation to Isle Saint Marie could not have been better. It's a small island off the east coast of Madagascar where we went bike riding, scuba diving, whale watching, swimming, it was incredible. I even heard that my picture made it into the newspapers; I've yet to see it. I normally would have objected to taking a vacation, therefore keeping me away from my village even longer, but we were stuck in the capitol waiting for one of the infrequent, unreliable flights anyway… I figured I should take advantage of the free time.
To say the least, I'm having a wonderful time here and I can only hope that these stories may be convincing those fence sitters to jump down and come visit.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
When The Mangoes Are Ripe
The next time the mangoes are ripe.
That’s when I’ll leave the red island for good. It’s not that I’m counting down the days, I daydream about living here for the rest of my life. It’s that I’m preparing to go to the capitol for a Peace Corps training.
I’ve been spending the last few days telling everyone that I’m leaving town and that I’ll be back in a few weeks. I shouldn’t be surprised that people think I’m leaving for the states for good; that’s what the last volunteer did. But it’s not easy convincing people that I am really going to come back. To one of the elders in the village, I explained that I was leaving my things in the house and that I would be back for them, he still didn’t believe me. I showed to him the 300+ kilos of rice that I have stocked for the next two years; he was hoping to inheret it when I left. I had told him countless times that I will go back to the states May 2010 but he still didn’t believe me. Seeing the budding mangoes, I thought about things in a different light... I returned to the man’s home and over a spoonful of rice explained to him that I would be returning to Belitsaky during the next full moon, he seemed to understand. I continued, explaining that not this season, but the next time the magoes are ripe... that is when I’ll go back to the States; it all fell into place.
That’s what these first three months have been all about; seeing things in a different light. My days start and end with the sun, months are decided by the moon cycles and meetings depend on the heat of the day. I’ve stopped asking why when things are taboo and begun to read my shadow to decide the time of day. The rice isn’t done in 25 or 35 minutes, it’s done when you can smell it burning to the bottom.
I realize now how far removed I have been from the essentials of life. In the States I can get tomatoes any time I want; I don’t think about where they come from. A bag of rice might cost $10; but I don’t think about how the rice was seperated from the rocks. A cap full of soap and the push of a button washes my clothes; where the fabric came from is beyond me. In the States, I buy an extra large grade AA chicken egg and don’t stop to wonder how far from the hen’s ancestor’s genetics she has come.
At first I dreamed of living on my Grandfather’s plot of farm land and living off of it and only it. Whatever I couldn’t make or obtain from the land I wouldn’t have, that simple. It made me think of even the simple things I wouldn’t have... metal knives, iron tools, glassware, etc. Then I started thinking about different concepts and inventions... a butter churn, heirloom tomatoes, the pasteurization of milk, the wheel... is it cheating if I am willing to use inventions and concepts developed by others? And where to draw the line; if it’s ok to use the improved techniques of others then why shouldn’t it be ok to use products from other people, we’re all in this thing together right?
So I started changing my mind. And now, I don’t propose that we undo thousands of years of changes to the way of life... millions of inventions, improvements, and backsteps, but that we choose conscientiously the inventions, improvements, and backsteps set before us. That instead of retreating to my secluded farm and living removed from the rest of the world, we do our part to encourage the positive investments that others have made to our way of life, that rather than looking to “sustainable” and “organic” products to change the world, we encourage the sustainable and organic lifestyles and actions. The plastic between us and our food doesn’t change it’s origin; it only means it comes from much farther away to make it to our mouths. I encourage us to eat what is in season, to realize it’s presence, not just on the plate, but in our world. Grow some basil in the kitchen, a tomato plant in a bucket, and some corn in the yard. Eat those three things only when they’re ripe, it’ll bring us all a bit closer.
That’s when I’ll leave the red island for good. It’s not that I’m counting down the days, I daydream about living here for the rest of my life. It’s that I’m preparing to go to the capitol for a Peace Corps training.
I’ve been spending the last few days telling everyone that I’m leaving town and that I’ll be back in a few weeks. I shouldn’t be surprised that people think I’m leaving for the states for good; that’s what the last volunteer did. But it’s not easy convincing people that I am really going to come back. To one of the elders in the village, I explained that I was leaving my things in the house and that I would be back for them, he still didn’t believe me. I showed to him the 300+ kilos of rice that I have stocked for the next two years; he was hoping to inheret it when I left. I had told him countless times that I will go back to the states May 2010 but he still didn’t believe me. Seeing the budding mangoes, I thought about things in a different light... I returned to the man’s home and over a spoonful of rice explained to him that I would be returning to Belitsaky during the next full moon, he seemed to understand. I continued, explaining that not this season, but the next time the magoes are ripe... that is when I’ll go back to the States; it all fell into place.
That’s what these first three months have been all about; seeing things in a different light. My days start and end with the sun, months are decided by the moon cycles and meetings depend on the heat of the day. I’ve stopped asking why when things are taboo and begun to read my shadow to decide the time of day. The rice isn’t done in 25 or 35 minutes, it’s done when you can smell it burning to the bottom.
I realize now how far removed I have been from the essentials of life. In the States I can get tomatoes any time I want; I don’t think about where they come from. A bag of rice might cost $10; but I don’t think about how the rice was seperated from the rocks. A cap full of soap and the push of a button washes my clothes; where the fabric came from is beyond me. In the States, I buy an extra large grade AA chicken egg and don’t stop to wonder how far from the hen’s ancestor’s genetics she has come.
At first I dreamed of living on my Grandfather’s plot of farm land and living off of it and only it. Whatever I couldn’t make or obtain from the land I wouldn’t have, that simple. It made me think of even the simple things I wouldn’t have... metal knives, iron tools, glassware, etc. Then I started thinking about different concepts and inventions... a butter churn, heirloom tomatoes, the pasteurization of milk, the wheel... is it cheating if I am willing to use inventions and concepts developed by others? And where to draw the line; if it’s ok to use the improved techniques of others then why shouldn’t it be ok to use products from other people, we’re all in this thing together right?
So I started changing my mind. And now, I don’t propose that we undo thousands of years of changes to the way of life... millions of inventions, improvements, and backsteps, but that we choose conscientiously the inventions, improvements, and backsteps set before us. That instead of retreating to my secluded farm and living removed from the rest of the world, we do our part to encourage the positive investments that others have made to our way of life, that rather than looking to “sustainable” and “organic” products to change the world, we encourage the sustainable and organic lifestyles and actions. The plastic between us and our food doesn’t change it’s origin; it only means it comes from much farther away to make it to our mouths. I encourage us to eat what is in season, to realize it’s presence, not just on the plate, but in our world. Grow some basil in the kitchen, a tomato plant in a bucket, and some corn in the yard. Eat those three things only when they’re ripe, it’ll bring us all a bit closer.
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