Fort Dauphin thunderstorm

Fort Dauphin, thunderstorm - Giles Crosse

Today we are in the middle of a Madagascan rainstorm, strong winds, cold rain and very, very dark by 6PM.

Thus far Madagascar seems an intriguing mix of polarities and divisions. People here are among the friendliest I have ever met, faces beam in greeting, children dance and play whilst laughter and smiles permeate the cobbled, dusty streets.

Yet falling tourist numbers since 2002 and 2009's coup have led to deserted roads after nightfall and murmurings of security risks and muggings. I've yet to see any violence or disturbances of any kind, so the reality as ever likely remains somewhere between warnings and truth.

Poverty remains highly visible here, yet nowhere is an offensive or caustic attitude apparent. Indeed, a sense of welcoming, enjoyment and celebration of life seem far more prevalent amid these streets.

Shops open at 6AM, with many Malagasy beginning their working day at 4AM, to cook for their families before heading off to their respective workplaces. Shops then close for lunch between 12/2, reopening until 6PM in the evening.

Street vendors offer vegetables, bread and eggs, taxis bump and shudder emitting noise and smoke, indeed the street lighting system has only recently been established.

Giles Crosse

Politically, people I have spoken with express dissatisfaction at the long delayed election here, questioning whether it will ever take place. This perhaps contributes to falling numbers of tourists, following the withdrawal of foreign aid, and begs the question of how establishing any meaningful sense of democracy is going to take place.

Giles Crosse

Withdrawal of aid from damaging regimes seems a logical path. But the degree to which this encourages regime change, or merely undermines standards of living for an already impoverished nation remains hard to judge.