The shock of arriving home

The hardest part about this experience in Madagascar for me was returning home. What made it worse is that I hadn't anticipated this challenge at all. In retrospect, I should have...

I've now done the research and learned that many people face a difficult period upon coming home from an extended time spent abroad. You go through a whole adventure, your adrenaline level is sky-rocketing, you have the impression of living a once in a lifetime experience and then BANG! you are back in your old life, in the old environment, with the same old people and it can seem painfully boring...

I suffered from such feelings for a long time- I was feeling gloomy, I cried a lot as if I had to mourn the end of the adventure and emotionally prepare for a new life. On top of this psychological transition, I had to face the fact that I was unemployed and nothing seemed worthwhile enough to start (other than returning to Andava, where I felt so great and part of the team from the first moment).

Im a rather sensitive person, which has good sides and bad sides to it. In this particular case, my sensitivity allowed me to have an incredibly intense experience in Madagascar, but it also resulted in total lethargy upon coming home. It took weeks of writing my journal, reading about this phenomenon, talking to people who've had similar experiences and taking one step at a time. This might seem extreme to an outsider, but it felt very challenging and the sensation of being totally lost in my own life was an unfamiliar experience.

Things that helped me through this phase were:
- an understanding partner, who has had a similar experience and could relate to what I was going through
- facing my feelings and talking about them
- accepting that this is a difficult phase but it will pass
- reading
- engaging in activities that allowed my brain to switch off

I prepared the infographic above/below based on the articles I found online about the 'Reverse Cultural Shock'. Drawing about this transition time was also a way of digesting it and coming to terms with it.

On the positive note, going so far away from my life and then experiencing the shock of returning allowed me to see things from a completely new perspective. The new perspective then became a big wave of change, resulting in massive sorting at home, starting new activities, making new plans, and opening up new horizons.

Overall, I still think that this was a very exciting and worthwhile experience, with all its ups and downs.

Useful reading on this topic (which also served as my sources for this infographic):

• GiveLiveExplore: Thoughts On Coming Home (Part 2): Reverse Culture Shock
• Y Travel Blog: Dealing with reverse culture shock
• Bemused Backpacker: How To Deal With Reverse Culture Shock After Your Gap Year

Returning to “normal life”

My first impressions after arriving (to Paris) were:

• OMG, there is no sand anywhere!!!
•  Soooo many people and almost no nature
•  Really noisy
• The first few meals are absolutely amazing, but its quick to get used to the insane amount of options we have

Back home in Brussels, what I find strange is the size of the average home compared to the hut I shared in Andava, and the fact that we sleep with the windows closed in almost complete silence (i.e. no sound of waves :-(

It’s great to reunite with loved ones but I soon had to realise that life has not stopped for them either and they are also eager to share what happened in the last two months. My experience is not the most important for them and as I keep comparing everything to Andava I am concerned when my surroundings will be completely saturated and ask me to stop. I also feel a bit lonely with my experience, it was such a collective adventure and now we are all back to our individual lives, surrounded by people who have not lived what we have and have difficulty relating to it (well, with the exception of a few, luckily).

As the days pass, however, and Andava feels further and further away, “reintegration” becomes a more realistic prospect. Our pre-departure guidebook (provided by Blue Ventures) has a chapter about returning home which starts by saying that this can be an “underwhelming experience”. I haven’t yet worked out whether I feel “under-” or “overwhelmed”, but whelmed it is to a great extent...

 What an incredible, breathtaking, influential, unforgettable, awesome adventure!

(See you next year?)

Toliara revisited

On Sunday, 30 March we left Andava after an early breakfast. All the staff came to see us off and the goodbye was a sad one, with several of us crying a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure if Im saying “goodbye” or saying “see you later”, but I guess it has to be the latter as I have a really big desire to come back. Several people told us that we were an exceptionally good group and this is how it felt to us as well.

Somehow the journey through the spiny forest, the coastal sand dunes and the other fishing villages back to Toliara seemed faster than the way out six weeks ago. The city also felt different: the lack of sand and the absence of goats around me reminded me that we are back in “civilisation” (how awful this sounds!), and Toliara seemed like a megapolis after Andava. I felt disoriented because I was no longer connected to the natural elements as before.

Suddenly, I could speak French and people understood me, we could eat whatever we wanted (wow, the first dinner- zebu burger, pizza and ice-cream- was ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC! We could barely walk home afterwards...). I had to revise my judgement of Toliara, my first impressions were wrong. It is a very lively city, the streets are animated by hundreds of colourful pousse-pousse and there are dozens of great restaurants (many of them tried and tested by now!).

We spent the first “free” morning visiting the Antsokay Arboretum, enjoying its pool and testing its restaurant (approved!), and just relaxed at our hotel in the afternoon. It was a strange feeling not to have a schedule and just do as we like until dinner. The next group of volunteers arrived in the meantime, we had dinner with them and some of us went out in the Toliara night to party for one last time.

The next morning my closest buddies, with whom I’ve done the overland tour, left to drive back to Tana and I found myself alone after 7 weeks of constant interaction. It wasn’t easy and I spent the rest of the morning in my room, in my pyjamas, looking at pictures from Andava and texting the four of them. I wasn’t looking forward to flying back home on my own, but it allowed me to have a quiet moment (or rather a quiet 20 hours) and start processing the magical two months behind me.

The challenging little (?) things

In attempt to give a more balance picture, I feel I should try to summarise what felt challenging during this experience. Despite the amazing moments and the overall, very positive spirit with which Im leaving, there were issues that felt difficult.

Monday lunch

Always being with other people: although Im a very social person and I enjoyed getting to know the rest of the volunteers, suddenly being with others on a non-stop basis can become tiresome. The everyday schedule also means that we have all meals together, and the volunteers do most of the other activities together. Sharing a room after a busy day, filled with lots of activities and lots of people results in very little personal time and almost no privacy. It is practically only after dinner that one can take a moment for oneself. Inevitably, sometimes even the good will of others can feel heavy and too much and in those moments it can be a challenge to respond nicely.

I’ve wondered if it would be easier or more difficult to do this as a couple? That would mean having your most important “support system” with you, but in terms of having enough space within the couple it doesn’t sound ideal to me. There is almost no space for having conflicts for example, and Im sure it takes a lot of effort on all sides to have the private and professional spheres so closely linked.

Daily schedule revealed before dinner

Always having a schedule: having a predictable schedule can be very helpful but it can also become a nuisance. My days were mainly marked by the meals and I could relatively freely deal with my tasks as I please in between. For the diving volunteers every morning is scheduled and for most weeks the afternoons as well. I assume the majority has much more flexibility in their normal lives, so this kind of timetable-driven existence is at the minimum unusual. There were days when we thought it was merely to “keep us out of trouble”, based on some past experience with a less cool group...

Level of comfort: I think we all adapted really well to the Andava reality, but there were a few things we couldn’t get used to. One of these was feeling that our clothes and matrasse are always a bit damp. Another one for me was feeling that my hair was becoming really dry. Something I usually don’t care much about, but if I were to return, I’d bring some hair-moisturising product for sure! ;-) I also suffered a bit from my matrasse at the beginning, but I have to say I got used to that by the end.

Midnight operation on an exploded toe

Health inconveniences: muahahaha, this is the moment of truth! I, the one who was warning everyone at the beginning about eating carefully etc etc, I was the only lucky girl to get parasites in Madagascar! Im not quite sure what kind they were, apart from the fact that they were the kind that eats you from the inside and gives you severe diarrhea for a good two weeks. Luckily I was treated in the Italian hospital and have been eating like a maniac since then, but I did lose a couple of kilos and spent quite a lot of time close to bathrooms. The others had different troubles, a few occasions of vomitting and feeling weak, a few day long diarrhea, infected wounds that wouldn’t heal because of the constant diving, blisters from the sun, being stung by crazy fish but we all avoided serious problems (and these provided the perfect excuse to seek some additional sympathy from one another).

Finally, two more personal challenges:

Questioning my contribution: me being me, this kind of question was to be expected... As the expedition neared its end, I started wondering how much did I really contribute, did I make a difference? These internal questions and the nearness of the end did manage to undermine my motivation for a few days and I felt guily about that. I recently read somewhere that a job done is much more valuable than the perfect job imagined/planned, so I tried to tell myself that having contributed whatever I’ve done is much more than not having come at all. (And, if I want to be slightly ironic with myself, I can find comfort in the fact that the money I paid to be here supports the projects as well, so if, for nothing else, I was useful for that...)

Living in the present moment: as much as I loved experiencing this, it also brought mental discomfort- to what extent can I disconnect, leave my responsibilities behind? I didn’t always find it easy to establish the balance between my “normal life” and my “Andava life”. After a while I developed a rythm and dealt with my personal, long term issues in the morning and focused on the present for the rest of the day.

The little things

A few days ahead of going back home, I start wondering what were the little interesting and/or mundane positive experiences of the past six weeks. The way I experienced it, our expedition started off quite slowly, felt really speedy in the middle and slowed down again for the last two weeks/ten days.

Here is the (completely random) list of positive experiences that were part of everyday life in Andava:

Sleeping under the stars: as a result of the warm nights during which I struggled to sleep, I decided to install my matrasse outside. For three weeks or so, I was outside on the veranda, under a mosquito net, enjoying the sound of the waves, the wind and the amazing, star-lit sky. (And, during the full moon, I was even a bit disappointed to have so much light in my eyes...). I loved sleeping outside, feeling connected to the forces of nature, and, to be honest, having some moments of privacy (previously I was sharing a hut with two other people). Initially, we used to close the door of the hut for the night just to feel safe and I was quite concerned by the heavy wind, and it took me a good few days to get used to the waves. When I was dozing off for example I was convinced my bed would slide in the water, the beach felt so close. So, in retrospect, moving outside, being only protected by a mosquito net and not minding the sand blown on me overnight was a sign of deep relaxation.

Star-gazing: on many many nights, we collectively stared at the sky or counted shooting stars. This sometimes included listening to the guitar and singing of one of our talented medics, sometimes just relaxed/silly/serious discussions about life. There is no electricity in the village (except of course in the always functioning disco bar), and no electricity at Coco Beach after 9 pm, so the stars are incredibly bright and visible (apart from the time of full moon).

The change of weather: upon our arrival the weather was a bit gloomy (last few days of the rainy season) but then it turned REALLY hot, to the extent that several of us struggled sleeping during the night. By the end of the six weeks, the daily highest temperatures remained quite high (around 30+ degrees Celsius), but the nights became much cooler and the sea temperature has also decreased. (The latter was a relief to our field scientists, as the initial 29 degrees meant a risk of coral bleeching).

Initially we were also worried (well, at least I was) about some storms, as it was the end of the “cyclone season”, but luckily, we didn’t experience anything dramatic only some windy nights and some distant lightenings.

Knowing my way around, seeing the familiar faces every day: I loved the fact that by the end, I could more or less make sense of the small alleys in the village, go from one point to another without getting lost. After a while I started recognising people – a few kids from Saturday school, another few from the French-English club, a few adults who came to give us feedback on the T-shirts. Even such a short period as 6 weeks can lead to feeling somewhat part of a community and I enjoyed that a lot. The increasing familiarity and feeling of comfort also meant that I was buying pastry on the streets of the village. This might sound nothing special, but for me, who was cautious to the extent of suspicion at the beginning, it was a big step and really contributed to feeling integrated.

Going for a swim in the afternoon: the first two weeks were full of presentations which meant that I spent my afternoons at Coco Beach and not at the Education center/office. During this time I often ended up going for a swim before or after the afternoon lecture. The sea was so warm that even I didn’t hesitate to walk in and the waves and the colours changed every single day. I remember two occasions particularly well: one when we spontaneously swam to a nearby boat and visited it (it was a big one, a kind that is not usually seen in Andava); the other when we were sitting on the beach, letting ourselves be thrown by the waves, watching the sunset, until we had sand even in our ears.

Seeing a herd of goats wander around Coco Beach: this is typically one of the things one notices upon arrival, accepts it as a given and never thinks about it again. But Im happy to take a step back and realise that the goats around our huts and around the Holy Mary’s statue on the nearby cliff have been extremely cute, have contributed to the special atmosphere and have allowed us to make endless jokes. They are such a peaceful and heartwarming sight and it was really amusing every single time to see a group of little boys running after them, trying to get them home.

Almost being forced to be in the present moment: I haven’t discussed this with the others, but for me one of the most striking aspects of life in Andava was being in the here and now. Somehow my entire existence was focused on what was going on at a given moment. I didn’t really have the chance (or the need) to reflect too much on the past or think too much about the future, I was, for most of the time focused on what was happenning at the given moment. I have not really experienced this kind of “mental break” before and it certainly reminded me of the importance of being in the present moment. This was on one hand an incredibly positive and relaxing experience, on the other hand, something that made me even more disconnected from those back home. (I am in the middle of organising a big family event, so from that perspective, it wasn’t ideal to feel so little concerned by anything beyond my daily schedule...).

Getting to know one another:  seven weeks is enough to get to know other people if you spend 24/7 with them. After a while we became aware of each others moods, and we were able to read the little, unspoken signs of how each person was doing. It was a nice process, and I felt from the very first week that we are a responsible group, paying a lot of attention to each other. Apart from being so relaxed by the end that we could laugh at the smallest, silly things while looking at the stars, I was also absolutely amazed by the transformation I’ve seen in one of my roommates. She arrived never having snorkelled or been in a proper “outdoor” environment before, and she is leaving as a rescue diver and thinking about coming back. She’s truly pushed herself way out of her comfort zone and despite the occasional difficult moments she never gave up for which I have enormous respect.

My other roommate was only 19, so initially it was her age and courage to come to Madagascar that impressed me, but as I got to know her I was stunned by how much she knew about the world, the opinions she formulated, and even the way she expressed herself. Ladies, if you ever read this: it has been a real pleasure getting to know you!!!

Rejocing over certain food: again, a small detail that could easily get lost among the stories about baobabs and pirogues, but an important pleasure on site. I’ve mentioned before that the food was good, but I have to admit that it does feel repetitive after a couple of weeks. So, whenever we had something out of the “norm”, like donuts or boko-boko for breakfast, it felt like a super special treat!

“Extracurricular activities”

Our weeks have been very busy, but Sundays were entirely ours to do whatever we please. We’ve gone on several pirogue sails, something that I personally consider one of the highest pleasures of life here. We’d leave in three pirogues from the beach of the village, just a few minutes walk from our huts. Each pirogue would have two Malagasy and three volunteers. There is a small island, Nosy Fasy, about 20-30 minutes sailing from the coast where we’ve been twice. The island is tiny (and I think it even disappears in high tide), someone counted that it takes 45 steps to walk around it (well, at that given moment). Snorkelling is great around it, so we had sandwiches prepared for us and spent two lovely (and very hot) afternoons there, getting a tan, snorkelling, reading and enjoying the high culinary pleasures scrambled egg sandwiches can provide to hungry people. My favourite part was arriving to the island because the colour of the sea surrounding it is just outrageously beautiful and I felt like we are in some sort of paradise. I can’t get enough of the transition between bright turquoise and blue, every time I see it I am just as impressed as excited as on the first occasion.

Another activity we scheduled for a Sunday was a visit to the nearby baobab “forest”. We’d definitely not refer to this as a forest in Europe, but it is true that there were a couple of dozen baobabs in walking distance from one another. They are shorter and more “chubby” than the famous baobabs which are located further up North along the coast. They are impossible to dislike, however, and I just LOVED climbing up on one of them. It has been way too long since I last climbed a tree and this experience demonstrated that I am not ready to leave this habit behind! (And I feel really inspired to try bouldering once I return home in order to reproduce the joy of climbing up somewhere using my muscles). What made this visit even more memorable was the fact that we arrived on zebu-carts. They are the local means of transport and were definitely worth the experience! Pulled by two zebus, we were three passengers on each cart and had a lot of laughs as the zebus wouldnt stop pooing and the way they are encouraged to move faster makes it impossible to avoid receiving some zebu poo...

More recently we had the opportunity to do some cooking. I attended one of two sessions, and learnt how to make samosa with zebu meat (the others are also certified boko-boko cooks. Boko-boko -pronounced a bit like “beaucoup-beaucoup” - is a small, round pastry, either with no filling or with some chocolate filling in the middle. It tastes like a donut and its a real delicacy at any point of any day!).

Our samosa-instructor was the grandmother of the young girl, Papoussi, who comes around regularly (and its this very grandmother who actually makes what Papoussi sells, so we were learning from the very best!). The recepie is very simple, flower, water and salt for the dough, and minced zebu meat with a bit of onion and spices for the filling. The trick is to make the dough as thin as possible, create a triangular “pocket”, fill it up, close it, fry it and ENJOY!

Another food-related highlight of our “extracurricular activities” was going to a nearby Italian restaurant. I was slightly hesitant about this one, thinking I can eat fancy food when I go back home, but eventually my craving for something different won over rational arguments. We took pirogues and sailed a bit south to a hotel run by an Italian couple. We had to clean our feet from the sand before stepping on the veranda- an incredibly weird thing to do around here, but I guess this ritual contributed to the impression of being somewhere fancy. This was around week 4 or 5 I think, so we had been eating rice-beans and fish twice a day for over a month. The cook at Coco Beach is very good and creative, however, it is almost impossible not to get bored of the food even during our short stay here, no matter how he combines the available ingredients.

Bearing this in mind it shouldn’t come as a surprise that we felt in heaven when we were served cold white wine and some “finger food” with pesto. Absolutely divine!!! The menu continued with carbonara (also delicious) and zebu steak with grilled vegetables and mashed potatoes, with red wine. I was so blown away by the starter that nothing could impress me to the same extent afterwards, but it was a wonderful, completely out-of-context lunch, with a lot of medical talk and doctor jokes thanks to the 5 medics around the table.

Last, but not least, I need to mention playing volleyball on the beach below our huts (this is only possible when the tide is low). This is not necessarily a weekend activity, and unfortunately we only discovered it very recently, nevertheless it’s on my “best-of” list. I can’t say that we’d qualify for the Olympics just yet, but there is a faire amount of enthusiasm and we have certainly improved a lot since we’ve started. Running into the ocean after having played for hours in the afternoon sun is yet another thing I will remember with great pleasure.

So, in short, we are working hard and playing hard! I can’t wait to upload the photos to illustrate all these activities! ;-)

Visiting the aquaculture project

We visited Blue Ventures' aquaculture project in Tampolove. Read my guest-post on the BV blog, Beyond Conservation about discovering a sea-cucumber and a sea-weed farm.

Tasks of a non-diving volunteer

As my fourth week in Andava is coming to an end, it seems like a reasonable idea to describe what other things I’ve been involved with apart from the T-shirt design and the focus groups.

Photo by Caroline Savitzky

Contributing to a thematic mural: During the first week I helped a local artist paint a mural on the wall of the Safidy clinic. This was really fun! It shows three little scenes which are relevant to Safidy’s work: (1) a couple holding up condoms, (2) a woman coming for an pre-natal visit and lastly, (3) a man washing his hand with soap. I love his naive style and the little details of how he sees the local community. He is from Toliara and speaks good French so we could chat easily. I am currently in the process of adding little messages to each of the scenes.

Safidy data entry: I’ve already described in a previous post that Safidy has trained several dozen Community Based Distributors. They keep track of all the visits they receive and this data (as well as the data from the Safidy clinic in Andava) then needs to be digitalized. As a dedicated volunteer with agreed confidentiality, I could help out with this as well, entering data into a big Excel file. Although this might sound like a boring task, it was actually quite interesting, because it gave me a rough idea of what kind of people use these services at the moment, what exactly they are looking for and how is their family situation.

Teaching English to a Safidy staff: My English partner is the Safidy midwife, a really really sweet Malagasy girl of 24 years. When her schedule allowed, we sat together and talked in English. The primary purpose of this was to practice her language skills (she is already fluent, so it was a real pleasure to be chatting with her), as well as mine as she gave me a few Malagasy classes. I enjoyed these occasions a lot because we got to know each other better. This was further reinforced because I interviewed her for the blogpost I wrote about inspiring women. Very nice encounter!!!

Research on how to communicate climate change to local communities: I’ve talked about the village outreach tours already- every three months, Blue Ventures organises village outreach tours around a given topic and goes to a few dozen communities with presentations, discussion ideas and workshops. One of their upcoming themes is climate change, so we had a big discussion on how it is best to talk about global warming in the Vezo context. Interesting but very complex question- where should one start? How can one talk about this topic without distorting the facts or in a way that inspires action as opposed to leaving the audience with the feeling of disempowerment? How much of the science should be explained? We could not come to a conclusion after one discussion and I had hoped to find plenty of resources online. Unfortunately, this was not the case, however, I did receive some very useful documents from Conservation International, which has invested a great deal resources in developing training material focused on this topic. I still need to produce a summary for my colleagues, but this will be a perfect first step towards working out the most suited approach for Vezo communities.

French class for teachers: There is a really nice French girl, working for a small foundation (Steph’Andava) to teach French to school teachers and to students. I’ve been able to join her once in her class for teachers, in which they were practicing their question composing skills by asking me about Hungary. The theme was travelling so we pretended to prepare for a trip to Hungary and explored topics such as transportation, culture, language, natural environment, sights to visit and the weather. I prepared a few slides with photos and they seemed interested in discovering a country previously unheard of... I was unable to answer all their questions, for example I have no idea how much a kilo of rice costs back home (and they were quite surprised that rice comes in such small packages)...

It was a really nice experience and I was very impressed by the French girl’s dynamism throughout the class. Afterwards I was thinking about the “twists of destiny”: exactly 7 years ago I took off to Brussels for a six month internship. I hadn’t expected to get the position in the first place and I certainly didnt foresee how much it would change my life. Participating in a French class in Madagascar and talking about Hungary seems really random on one hand, and an (almost) direct consequence of that internship on the other hand. What a journey in between that period 7 years ago and the current moment! Life’s unpredictability can be really heartwarming.

English-French club: The education team organises lots of after-school activities which children (and adults) are welcome to join. One of these is the French-English club on Tuesday afternoons, altering between the two languages on a weekly basis. I’ve attended several times already and it has been really fun to see the dedication of all parties involved and the kind of exercises the teachers come up with. Using standard, Western language-books is not really an option, as so many of the topics raised in them are completely irrelevant here. Additionally, there is limited resources, no possibility to just quickly photocopy something ahead of class for example, so I have great respect for the people doing the teaching and coming up with various creative ideas.

French grammar posters: Last, but not least, I’ve been producing some posters for Steph’Andava, explaining French grammar. I’ve tried to add some locally relevant visuals to them and just make them look attractive in general- let’s hope they manage to inspire the children and prove to be useful.

A “normal”, diving volunteer’s tasks on the other hand are the following: after a week or two of different lectures, they are divided into two groups. One group learns 150 species of fish, the other learns “benthic” which (as far as I understood) is everything attached to the bottom of the ocean. They practice on computer tests, then go on point-out dives in the water and finally, they have to pass underwater tests. After my fellow volunteers have passed their underwater tests and have consequently swapped topics: they are studying what the other group did until now to be trained for everything. (Im a bit jelaous of all the cool fish names they know now, I just look at everything thinking “Wow, that’s colourful!” and they say something like “Ah, that’s a redfin butterfly fish” or “That’s a Portugese man of war”...).

Dive briefing

As soon as they complete their science training, they dive to collect data for the Blue Ventures’ research. In the meantime, some people also needed to learn how to dive, others needed to practice new techniques to become advanced divers so overall they’ve been super busy. Dives are organised for the first half of the day (at 06.00, 09.00, and 11.00) in case something goes wrong and there is a need for an emergency evacuation, which would need to arrive from South Africa. Thanks to all the safety measures this option has never been used.

Gender roles in the Vezo culture

Last Saturday we attended the Women’s Day celebrations in Befandefa, the administrative center of the area. Befandefa is a small, inland village about 45 minutes drive from Andava (not far in kilometres, but the dirt roads don’t allow faster access). In this region of fishing communities, it is the only village that does some agriculture around here, although I have to say I didn’t see many fields...

Women’s Day is hugely important here, it allows the ladies to leave their everyday duties behind, come together and officially enjoy themselves. This year hundreds of people gathered to sing, dance and fundraise for their respective women’s associations. Each village has women’s and girls’ associations, most of them have a uniform ‘lamba’ (a rectangular material one can wrap around herself as if it was a skirt) or T-shirt. 

The celebrations consisted of each group parading around a big open area, in front of a covered podium (we had seats there, behind the various village elders and presidents). After the “parade” of the groups, each of them did a little performance. The younger girls were dancing to popular Malagasy tunes, the older generation often sang their own songs with really interesting messages.

Unfortunately, my Malagasy is still restricted to about 3 lines, so I missed out on a lot, but the summary I was given sounded really great. There was one group that was singing about natural resource use and asking “Do we want to exploit our oceans until there is no fish in them?” And then responded “No” and had a whole song built around this kind of question and answer structure.

Another group was singing about the different people working in and with Safidy- I caught their names and the smile of each person when they were mentioned suggested that the song was a big success.

Once the performances were over everyone went to have lunch. We left mid-afternoon... before the much advertised highlight of the day had started: the beauty contest. The feminist in me had a slight shock when I heard that there would be a beauty contest for women’s day, because I don’t quite see how judging women by their looks will make them feel better about themselves or more empowered... I was told (by a man) that here this is a great way to demonstrate that women can do more than their traditional roles i.e. just staying home and having babies.

I also found out that women’s day often involves football tournaments among female teams. Apparently these games are so emotionally heated that there are regularly broken body parts by the end. If we had been able to stay I would have been very tempted to play football with Vezo women - much more so than participating in the beauty contest, to which we were all kindly invited!

***

Yesterday I had a funny conversation with a young gentleman who has been working around our huts for a while. He is approximately in his early thirties and we’ve had a couple of exchanges already as one of our medics treated a wound on his leg and I served as the interpreter. After the usual formalities (Hello, how are you, how is your leg doing?) he asked me whether there was a monsieur associated with me. I told him yes. He then explained to me that he is looking for a "vazaha" wife (so, basically a foreigner) because he has three children and is a widow. To improve his chances, he told me about a land that he could get and where he could construct a hut for this future spouse.

I am intrigued by the fact that "vazaha" women are on such high demand and wanted to find out why that might be the case. His response was just as straight forward as the intitial question: Malagasy women are a bit agitated and jealous, while the white women are much calmer! 

Additionally, I was told, local women are alcoholics and play cards and if that wasn’t enough, they don’t work either and live on the husband’s salary, meaning that you are poor by the end of the month. White women have no such guilty pleasures (...) and they work, so the family would be much better off. Seems logical. Except that I keep seeing the women and the children in the village carrying the firewood, cleaning the clothes at the well, cooking in front of their huts. I didn’t see any women sitting in the bar, drinking for pleasure... Last Tuesday night (when we went to the local disco for purely cultural purposes...) I saw one or two women and all the other late night guests were male. So, if this gentleman’s insight has any component of reality to it, Malagasy women must be closet alcoholics!

Interpreting this from my personal perspective would mean labelling it highly sexist. But I can also see the value of being straight forward and simply asking for what we really want. Why beat around the bush if all you want is a "vazaha" wife and there is one, approximately the right age sitting across the veranda? =)

Providing a choice for an alternative future

As described in the previous post, the Vezo people are facing high social vulnerability as a result of poverty, physical isolation and complete dependence on natural resources. I also mentioned that their reproduction rate is high, almost 7 children/woman (as opposed to the national average, which is 4.6 children/woman). At the same time, 1 in 11 children die before the age of 5, from causes including malaria, diarrhea or malnoutrition. Additionally, in this region, vaccination rates are extremely low.

Blue Ventures’ community health programme, Safidy first began with family planning and then extended to ante- and postnatal care, and to hygene education. The programme is now 6 years old, has trained over 30 “community based distributors” (CBDs), local women who serve as health focal points in their respective villages and provide some of the above services. Family planning methods include condoms, oral and injectible contraceptives, and a few of the CBDs are even certified to provide Intrauterine contraceptive Devices (IUDs). Safidy also has a long lasting collaboration with the Marie Stopes International on long lasting contraceptives.

Safidy does not set itself goals or targets in terms of the number of people using its services- its overall objective is to provide access to services within a 5 km distance.

People in Andava start to have sexual relations at a very young age (some girls are pregnant already around the age of 13-15). I was told that some young girls have a child before getting married- to demonstrate that they are fertile. This is also a sort of “safety measure” for women, because in case of divorce this child would belong to them, unlike the ones she has with her husband, for which he will be the exclusive guardian.

Safidy has set several objectives for this year and one of them is to increasingly support youth and make the family planning services more "youth-friendly".

T-shirts have proven a very efficient way to raise awareness about the benefits of using contraceptives, and communicate other health messages. During the last two weeks I was involved in designing T-shirts with the following messages:

• ‘My life is sweet therefore I won’t forget this condom.'
• ‘The choice I make today will help my future.’
• 'Clean hands make you healthy and wonderful’.

A local artist, Nady prepared three posters which are around the issues of exclusive breastfeeding, condom use and the importance of contraceptives for schoolgirls. Once all these designs were prepared, we gathered three focus groups (adults, teenage girls, teenage boys) and discussed with them in detail about the designs- whether the message comes accross, whether the images speak to them and to see if we should change anything. It was a fascinating experience for me, because their responses revealed a lot about the culture and their value system.

I enjoyed the discussion with the teenage girls the most- they were giggling a lot (like any group of teenage girls I guess ;-) and were giving very good responses. It was clear that they properly thought about our questions and debated among themselves. Surprisingly, despite the positive feedack from all three focus groups, one of our designs stirred quite a bit of water in the village.

It was a photo with the first message (‘My life is sweet therefore I won’t forget this condom.’) showing a young couple, hugging one another, with the man holding up a condom. Both of them were smiling and looked relaxed. I went to take the picture with a Malagasy colleague and he asked them whether this would be alright. Circumstances led us to work with people who are not a couple in real life, but they didn’t seem to mind giving their faces to such a campaign. Public opinion in the village thought otherwise and a few days later we heard that there is quite a bit of resentment towards these two people and even some rumours that the woman might be a sex worker... We immediately decided to pull back the photo and reconstruct the image with local Safidy colleagues- the community is aware of the work they do and will hopefully not invent unfounded stories about them!

I can’t wait to have the T-shirts ready, I will be thrilled to see them on people. During the women’s day celebrations in a nearby village, dozens of people were wearing Safidy shirts- both with the handwashing and the family planning messages. It makes me smile to see men in bright pink shirts encouraging condom use and I wonder how many of the people I know back home would be open-minded enough to do the same... ;-)