furry animals, blond israelis, and giant starfish
Hello there from the now-island that used to be smack-bang at the center of Gondwanaland, back in the day.
I'm sorry for my lack of writing, here and otherwise, but we've been in places WITHOUT INTERNET ACCESS. i know.
so yeah. can't believe i haven't written at all about this huge island yet. it's big. that was my first observation, when trying to plan a route with na and our newfound israeli friend of the bushy blond curls, Boaz. it takes a long time to get from A to B. why, you ask? and i respond: cuz most of the roads are in pretty darn bad condition. so you can fly from point to point and miss everything in between, or you can just settle into the taxi-brousse and enjoy the journey. we opted for a combination of the two, leaning towards the latter. we first spent a couple of days in Tana. that's the pronouncable contraction of the town's actual name: Antananarivo. we were with a Servas family that is probably among the wealthiest Malagasy families in all of the country. Their house was lovely, we had our own room (the daughter's actually - covered in pictures of horses and avril lavigne. the world here is not SO different). We had a good time chatting (practicing our french and their english) about madagascar and the school he plans to open and what's the same and what's different and our plans and our travels and his travels.. we ate well, and we were content. After 2 days in the charmingly situated (on lots of hills - think old french architecture. it's so cute.) capital city, we met Boaz at the chaotic taxi-brousse station and waited there until 3:11 when we departed on our 2:00 departure minivan. i was in the second row fold down seat next to the door. Boaz had tried to reserve us all good seats the prior day - next to the window - but he neglected to ask the all important question of which side the door was on. by the way, they drive like us here. on the right. it's scary after so many months of the left. so i sat there, somewhat uncomfortably, but surrounded by a kind looking man behind me, na to my left, an aDORable baby to herl eft, and Boaz's curls in front. We were on that taxi until the following morning at about 10am when we arrived in Morondava on the west coast. Along the way we'd stopped, of course, for the stomach and the bladder will not be told to wait. we saw beautiful vistas of rice padi fields and terraces amidst the mountains and hills and curvy roads... could've been asia at points. it's really pretty here. and as the moon was waxing near full, the night wasn't completely dark either, and during my bouts of awakeness between my spells of squished "sleeping," there were some gorgeous nighttime views of lakes and trees and... nice. we arrived confused but enthusiastic and made our plans to go to Kirindy Reserve to see us some animals. We went that day. on our nighttime walk, we saw a couple of furry beings perched in trees, or tiny ones (mouse lemurs) scurrying along branches with their big eyes and big ears that would make the big bad wolf jealous. and the dry deciduous forest was cool, with the awesome baobab trees thrown in for punctuation. The animals of unsurpassing coolness, of course, are the lemurs, didn't you know? they're brilliant. they're monkeys but not, and they leap from tree to tree with amazing agility. The next morning, we saw white sifakas that hop along the ground between trees with their arms above their heads so they kind of look like they're at a jewish wedding, but i haven't recorded that on film yet, sadly. they sound like pigs. they look like monkeys. they're so frickin cool. we also saw red-bellied brown lemurs and a sportive lemur or two. and a tiiiiiiny little frog. and some lizards and geckos.
so that was cool. then back to Morondava on the sandy sandy road with our driver/interpreter Philemo for some super spicy pasta at Jean Le Rasta's establishment (they have the teensiest chilli peppers here - that means enormous heat), then we set out to photograph the Avenue des Baobabs. these trees are really cool and if you've no idea what i'm talking about, just google 'em. they're tall and strong looking, the branches only at the tops of this particular species (6 of the world's 8 species are endemic to Madagascar, one to East Africa, and one to NW Australia. how you like THEM apples, non-gondwanaland believers?). they're so majestic looking. like pillars holding up the sky. the sad note is that the "Avenue" is so interesting and strange looking because all the forest around the baobabs (protected) was slashed and burned to make farmland. so they rise up above the flattened ground to make a great photograph, but lots of forest suffered on the way there. anyway. i made a little friend there - a Malagasy girl came up almost as soon as we arrived and asked once or twice for a gift, but once i refused, she just stayed with me - her arm entwined with mine, and i let her take some photos and it was nice. how i miss physical contact. oy.
then we flew south to Toliara. there isn't really a road except if you kind of make one yourself through the bush in a 4WD, and we didn't have 2 days to burn for that. i thought we'd have a moment on an english keyboard in Tulear (the Lonely Planet even says so), but as it happened, Nabia and Boaz and I went to a secluded beach resort instead. it required a van over a rocky cliff road, a half hour boat ride, and then a bumpy sandy track in and around the small Vezo village of Anakao to the next bay south - where our hotel was. when we got there the first night, the sun was setting in that beautiful way it has of doing - with the warm glow all down the horizon and the feeling that nothing can ever go wrong, and there was a goat sitting on one of the lounge chairs. and it wasn't a big deal to anyone but us. ah, madagascar. really, ah, the rest of the world. why do we in america have so much trouble with animals other than cats and dogs? goats have feelings too, and they sometimes like to sit on comfy chairs, it seems. anyway, we investigated our bungalow with its extra bed and no running water (that's what the buckets are for, duh). nice. cozy and secluded, just what we were all looking for. the next day brought discussion with Boazas we squatted in the rough sand and built haphazard sand castles (na was feelinga bigt under the weather) in front of the horizonful of aqua blue water. There was political conversation - he was complaining about how everyone and their mother is anti-america anti-bush on the travel circuit these days, but really it's no more messed up than anywhere else. We also had an empassioned discussion of whether one, travelling, represents oneself as an individual or one's country or both. i think both. anyway, it was coooool. and then we strolled on the enormous sandbars that emerged at low tide and found ourselves surrounded by huge colorful starfish. they were supercool. we read out there for a while - he his "On the Road" Jack Kerouac in Hebrew, and me my "Tears of the Giraffe" sequel to #1 ladies detective agency set in botswana, btw. then some of the girls out stabbing marine life with spears and collecting it in their buckets came over and asked for gifts and candy and cream and money, as is the custom here. the kids know only a few words of french, and those are them. sad. so i gave them some sunblock and they put it on their faces in a thick layer. in the rural areas here, you see women with thick yellow stuff on their faces - like a mask - to keep their skin looking young. what i don't understand is who can see the skin anyway; you've got yellow gook on it all the time? anyway, they put some on me too, but it didn't show up so well because, irregardless of the fact that i've been in the sun virtually every day for over 10 months, i'm still pale. tan for me, i guess, but ghostly compared to the rest of the world. so yeah. they gave up on presents and taught me how to say numbers up to five in malagasy. they already knew (kinda) up to 10 in english, but we took a nice picture. so yeah, next day was similar. sleep, read, rest, walk, starfish... nice. Boaz was going to stay, and so we said our "see you on the trail"s and boarded the truck for the sandy road, boat, rocky van ride back to "civilization."
stayed one night in a somewhat run down under renovation place but with a very enthusiastic owner, cuz the nice place we WANted to stay in was booked. damn tours takin all the rooms in the nice hotels...
next day early off to the taxi-brousse station and all the way to the village of Ambalavao (pop 25000 according to our LP). the scenery on the way was gorgeous. first flat plains and then awesome rock formations and villages and people walking on the roads... people here, they like to walk. we passed lots of zebu carts and zebu herds with herders and all, and children in school uniforms, and old french architecture, and mud brick homes with thatch roofs...
ambalavao was fantastic. we arrived in the afternoon to find the only decent hotel on the very high end of our price range. we submitted to the call of the comfort and went for a walk in the hillside town at sunset with that beautiful glow that hits every day at about 5. we took portraits of some of the women and kids we met, with that great yellow color that italians and french architects used to use painted and peeling on the wall behind, and we caused quite a stir. there were people running over to see and have theirs taken. some were too shy. some were pushing to be in front. it was a ruckus indeed. but nice. and we walked all over and took more pictures and promised to send them copies in a month when we get back to south africa and can print them out. they were really excited. dinner at our hotel (slash handmade floral paper factory) was delicious and we had some sign time that we'd been neglecting due to non-signing company and my finger (now much better - out of the splint, in a bandaid, able to type with it! just a bit sore on contact), and we talked about future careers and all kinds of things. i just finished reading Paolo Coelho's "11 Minutes" and man that guy can make ya think. his books just provoke deep thoughts. or at least the desire for them.
so yeah. then we boarded a brokedown taxi brousse this morning to come here to the 2nd biggest town in madagascar: Fianarantsoa. it stopped a couple times on the 56 km between there and here cuz there was no gas and the car wouldn't go, but whatev. 2 hours, schmu hours. more nice views of villages and rice paddies... and everyone we make eye contact with is so friendly. the grins are so warm and genuine and shocked. it's nice.
so yeah, we're here, it's great, and tomorrow we're going to another park for hiking and more lemurs.
i miss home, it's true, and i can't believe that in less than 6 short weeks i'll be there, but i can't ever imagine this trip coming to an end. maybe it won't :).
ok. that's all. long one. sorry ;P
love,
amy
email me
I'm sorry for my lack of writing, here and otherwise, but we've been in places WITHOUT INTERNET ACCESS. i know.
so yeah. can't believe i haven't written at all about this huge island yet. it's big. that was my first observation, when trying to plan a route with na and our newfound israeli friend of the bushy blond curls, Boaz. it takes a long time to get from A to B. why, you ask? and i respond: cuz most of the roads are in pretty darn bad condition. so you can fly from point to point and miss everything in between, or you can just settle into the taxi-brousse and enjoy the journey. we opted for a combination of the two, leaning towards the latter. we first spent a couple of days in Tana. that's the pronouncable contraction of the town's actual name: Antananarivo. we were with a Servas family that is probably among the wealthiest Malagasy families in all of the country. Their house was lovely, we had our own room (the daughter's actually - covered in pictures of horses and avril lavigne. the world here is not SO different). We had a good time chatting (practicing our french and their english) about madagascar and the school he plans to open and what's the same and what's different and our plans and our travels and his travels.. we ate well, and we were content. After 2 days in the charmingly situated (on lots of hills - think old french architecture. it's so cute.) capital city, we met Boaz at the chaotic taxi-brousse station and waited there until 3:11 when we departed on our 2:00 departure minivan. i was in the second row fold down seat next to the door. Boaz had tried to reserve us all good seats the prior day - next to the window - but he neglected to ask the all important question of which side the door was on. by the way, they drive like us here. on the right. it's scary after so many months of the left. so i sat there, somewhat uncomfortably, but surrounded by a kind looking man behind me, na to my left, an aDORable baby to herl eft, and Boaz's curls in front. We were on that taxi until the following morning at about 10am when we arrived in Morondava on the west coast. Along the way we'd stopped, of course, for the stomach and the bladder will not be told to wait. we saw beautiful vistas of rice padi fields and terraces amidst the mountains and hills and curvy roads... could've been asia at points. it's really pretty here. and as the moon was waxing near full, the night wasn't completely dark either, and during my bouts of awakeness between my spells of squished "sleeping," there were some gorgeous nighttime views of lakes and trees and... nice. we arrived confused but enthusiastic and made our plans to go to Kirindy Reserve to see us some animals. We went that day. on our nighttime walk, we saw a couple of furry beings perched in trees, or tiny ones (mouse lemurs) scurrying along branches with their big eyes and big ears that would make the big bad wolf jealous. and the dry deciduous forest was cool, with the awesome baobab trees thrown in for punctuation. The animals of unsurpassing coolness, of course, are the lemurs, didn't you know? they're brilliant. they're monkeys but not, and they leap from tree to tree with amazing agility. The next morning, we saw white sifakas that hop along the ground between trees with their arms above their heads so they kind of look like they're at a jewish wedding, but i haven't recorded that on film yet, sadly. they sound like pigs. they look like monkeys. they're so frickin cool. we also saw red-bellied brown lemurs and a sportive lemur or two. and a tiiiiiiny little frog. and some lizards and geckos.
so that was cool. then back to Morondava on the sandy sandy road with our driver/interpreter Philemo for some super spicy pasta at Jean Le Rasta's establishment (they have the teensiest chilli peppers here - that means enormous heat), then we set out to photograph the Avenue des Baobabs. these trees are really cool and if you've no idea what i'm talking about, just google 'em. they're tall and strong looking, the branches only at the tops of this particular species (6 of the world's 8 species are endemic to Madagascar, one to East Africa, and one to NW Australia. how you like THEM apples, non-gondwanaland believers?). they're so majestic looking. like pillars holding up the sky. the sad note is that the "Avenue" is so interesting and strange looking because all the forest around the baobabs (protected) was slashed and burned to make farmland. so they rise up above the flattened ground to make a great photograph, but lots of forest suffered on the way there. anyway. i made a little friend there - a Malagasy girl came up almost as soon as we arrived and asked once or twice for a gift, but once i refused, she just stayed with me - her arm entwined with mine, and i let her take some photos and it was nice. how i miss physical contact. oy.
then we flew south to Toliara. there isn't really a road except if you kind of make one yourself through the bush in a 4WD, and we didn't have 2 days to burn for that. i thought we'd have a moment on an english keyboard in Tulear (the Lonely Planet even says so), but as it happened, Nabia and Boaz and I went to a secluded beach resort instead. it required a van over a rocky cliff road, a half hour boat ride, and then a bumpy sandy track in and around the small Vezo village of Anakao to the next bay south - where our hotel was. when we got there the first night, the sun was setting in that beautiful way it has of doing - with the warm glow all down the horizon and the feeling that nothing can ever go wrong, and there was a goat sitting on one of the lounge chairs. and it wasn't a big deal to anyone but us. ah, madagascar. really, ah, the rest of the world. why do we in america have so much trouble with animals other than cats and dogs? goats have feelings too, and they sometimes like to sit on comfy chairs, it seems. anyway, we investigated our bungalow with its extra bed and no running water (that's what the buckets are for, duh). nice. cozy and secluded, just what we were all looking for. the next day brought discussion with Boazas we squatted in the rough sand and built haphazard sand castles (na was feelinga bigt under the weather) in front of the horizonful of aqua blue water. There was political conversation - he was complaining about how everyone and their mother is anti-america anti-bush on the travel circuit these days, but really it's no more messed up than anywhere else. We also had an empassioned discussion of whether one, travelling, represents oneself as an individual or one's country or both. i think both. anyway, it was coooool. and then we strolled on the enormous sandbars that emerged at low tide and found ourselves surrounded by huge colorful starfish. they were supercool. we read out there for a while - he his "On the Road" Jack Kerouac in Hebrew, and me my "Tears of the Giraffe" sequel to #1 ladies detective agency set in botswana, btw. then some of the girls out stabbing marine life with spears and collecting it in their buckets came over and asked for gifts and candy and cream and money, as is the custom here. the kids know only a few words of french, and those are them. sad. so i gave them some sunblock and they put it on their faces in a thick layer. in the rural areas here, you see women with thick yellow stuff on their faces - like a mask - to keep their skin looking young. what i don't understand is who can see the skin anyway; you've got yellow gook on it all the time? anyway, they put some on me too, but it didn't show up so well because, irregardless of the fact that i've been in the sun virtually every day for over 10 months, i'm still pale. tan for me, i guess, but ghostly compared to the rest of the world. so yeah. they gave up on presents and taught me how to say numbers up to five in malagasy. they already knew (kinda) up to 10 in english, but we took a nice picture. so yeah, next day was similar. sleep, read, rest, walk, starfish... nice. Boaz was going to stay, and so we said our "see you on the trail"s and boarded the truck for the sandy road, boat, rocky van ride back to "civilization."
stayed one night in a somewhat run down under renovation place but with a very enthusiastic owner, cuz the nice place we WANted to stay in was booked. damn tours takin all the rooms in the nice hotels...
next day early off to the taxi-brousse station and all the way to the village of Ambalavao (pop 25000 according to our LP). the scenery on the way was gorgeous. first flat plains and then awesome rock formations and villages and people walking on the roads... people here, they like to walk. we passed lots of zebu carts and zebu herds with herders and all, and children in school uniforms, and old french architecture, and mud brick homes with thatch roofs...
ambalavao was fantastic. we arrived in the afternoon to find the only decent hotel on the very high end of our price range. we submitted to the call of the comfort and went for a walk in the hillside town at sunset with that beautiful glow that hits every day at about 5. we took portraits of some of the women and kids we met, with that great yellow color that italians and french architects used to use painted and peeling on the wall behind, and we caused quite a stir. there were people running over to see and have theirs taken. some were too shy. some were pushing to be in front. it was a ruckus indeed. but nice. and we walked all over and took more pictures and promised to send them copies in a month when we get back to south africa and can print them out. they were really excited. dinner at our hotel (slash handmade floral paper factory) was delicious and we had some sign time that we'd been neglecting due to non-signing company and my finger (now much better - out of the splint, in a bandaid, able to type with it! just a bit sore on contact), and we talked about future careers and all kinds of things. i just finished reading Paolo Coelho's "11 Minutes" and man that guy can make ya think. his books just provoke deep thoughts. or at least the desire for them.
so yeah. then we boarded a brokedown taxi brousse this morning to come here to the 2nd biggest town in madagascar: Fianarantsoa. it stopped a couple times on the 56 km between there and here cuz there was no gas and the car wouldn't go, but whatev. 2 hours, schmu hours. more nice views of villages and rice paddies... and everyone we make eye contact with is so friendly. the grins are so warm and genuine and shocked. it's nice.
so yeah, we're here, it's great, and tomorrow we're going to another park for hiking and more lemurs.
i miss home, it's true, and i can't believe that in less than 6 short weeks i'll be there, but i can't ever imagine this trip coming to an end. maybe it won't :).
ok. that's all. long one. sorry ;P
love,
amy
email me
posted by theonetheycallamy at 9/22/2005 12:11:00 PM
2 Comments:
Why in the world would you end your blog with "sorry"?? That was a wonderful entry and we were all starved for information, so it was PERFECT. It sounds like a magnificent island. How amazing. You will truly be entering another world once you come home! But we'll be glad to give you a major hug- satisfy that "physical contact" thing you're lacking. Not to worry.
Love, mom
What an adventure! You girls keep having them, good ones, but i'mlooking forward to seeing you and now it's not too long until..Hugs and love, Barbara
Post a Comment
<< Home