Category Archives: poverty

Where there is no normal

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If you’ve spent any time on the fringes of the earth then you are probably familiar with the popular book, Where There is No Doctor. It’s a household staple for us traveling types. (Even though we have a household doctor of our own, Jonathan has found this book to be a very useful teaching tool). All that to say as we pack our house and bags again and prepare to spend a few months stateside I have been doing a lot of reflecting about our wild and at times unwieldy life style where “normal” is hard to come by. Our little world has been turned upside down and spun around a few times since we left our home in Alaska in August 2009 to begin a grand adventure. From traveling across the US in our VW camper van to studying French in our dingy Parisianish apartment to settling into life on the remote island of Madagascar, its has definitely been a life-altering experience. We’ve been stretched far outside of our comfort zones; we’ve learned to adapt to new people, places, languages, custom, foods, weather; we have been challenged with how to respond responsibly to the extreme poverty that surrounds us and we have been sTrEsSeD…sometimes thriving under it and sometimes being crushed by it.

that's not snow

Our latest not normal experience has been living through the wet/cyclone/rainy season. Strange and unusual things are happening all around us. Namely massive amounts of mold and bugs. “Oh the ants come marching in” is a daily theme around our house. And something about wet weather makes ants ferociously hungry. A grain of rice on the floor will draw out hundreds. I have even seen an army of ants carrying away a live roach for dinner, unbelievable. I remind myself daily that I am bigger and stronger as I go to war against these tiny terrors. Crazier than the ants though is the mold. Things around our house are molding before our eyes: hats, jewelry, wall hangings, bags, toys. Jonathan came in the kitchen the other day holding Alex and exclaiming, “you will never guess what molded?” (a daily guessing game in our house). I exclaimed back in panic, “Alex!” I have just been waiting for it, fearing we are next. Thankfully that hasn’t happened yet, it was just a mat outside.

Rain, Rain Go Away

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We are experiencing our first tropical storm on the island. Chanda, as the experts call her, is currently 500km south of us, but her tail end is still giving our town a beating.
I am finding that there is a lot to learn about tropical island rainy/cyclone season in Madagascar.
While there may be annoyances for me like laundry that never dries, cooped up children and an army of outside life that takes up residence inside (aka BUGS), it is nothing compared to what our friends and neighbors endure.
It doesn’t take much wind and rain to topple over a house built on sand or a house built of leaves and flimsy pieces of metal. And that is what most houses around us are made of. It’s hard to imagine what it would be like to live in a pool for days. Beds, clothes, furniture soaking wet until finally the rain stops and the sun returns. This is reality for many people where we live. There is no laundromat to dry their blankets. Everyone is at the mercy of the weather; literally praying that the sun will come out tomorrow.
We helped a friend today buy the materials needed to patch her roof to keep the rain out. She had been plugging holes with bars of soap through the night until the soap ran out. For $2.50 she can patch holes in her roof; this is more than half a day’s wages. A steep price when you are living on pennies.

That’s life in Madagascar.

The Gift of Giving

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It was a shopping spree like none other.  One 100lb gunny of rice, 10 live chickens, several baskets of assorted vegetables, a sack of flour and a sack of sugar.  Mandy and I loaded up the car, grabbed the boys, and drove out into the bush.  We were headed back to Toby [Toobee]  to bring a little Christmas cheer to some of the poorest and neediest people on the planet.  As we pulled into the compound, the bell gonged and the sick and care-givers alike began to collect in the plain concrete church.  We greeted many with whom we had met during our last visit:  the pastor, the community leader, and the sick man who had previously been chained up to protect those around him.  It was such a pleasure to give this gift from us and our supports to this community… to see their eyes light up when they saw the luxury items of flour and sugar… to hear the kids sing and dance… to see the smiles on the faces of the sick.  For us the most touching moment was when an elderly sick lady presented us with her chicken as a thank you.  It was a poignant reminder that it is not the gift but the heart of the giver that is important.  It was a powerful opportunity to reflect on the greatest gift of all as we celebrate the birth of Christ.

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Waste not

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NoThing is wasted in Madagascar. Recycling is not an environmental conviction, it is an absolute way of life. Used sardine cans become toy cars, old water bottles sell new petrol, oil, honey, hot sauce, or anything else that will fit in it and the list goes on and on. Creativity is through the roof here. People are resourceful with what they have; it is a matter of livelihood.  For this American girl, I have always been a fan of the idea of living responsibly regarding our material consumption and waste. I would call myself middle of the road in how successfully I put good ideas into practice. However…living in a third world country is really where the rubber meets the road. Theory is forced into practice when our family faces new daily realities of limited clean water, trash that doesn’t “disappear” under the earth, rather is displayed on the streets to become another persons treasure and where the effects of our daily “carbon footprint” is as real as the red dirt on our feet.