Basic Malagasy

Libanona - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

Sunsets, conversations and moments in developing countries, or anywhere else for that matter, are so much more meaningful and poignant with a few basic words of the native tongue....

Salama - Hello
Ino vaovao - What's happening
Tsi misy - Just the usual
Tsi misy akory hanao - How are you
Soa - Good
Faly mahalala hanao - Nice to meet you
Iza gnagnaranao koa - What's your name
Veloma - Goodbye
Tsi misy fisaora - You're welcome
Faly - I'm happy

Raiky - One
Rua - Two
Fulu - Ten

Fort Dauphin - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

Mila labiera telu zaho - I would like three beers
Hotrina labiera raiky - How much is one beer
Misy credit - Is there credit
Eka misy - Yes there is
1,000 - Arivo
3,000 Telu arivo
3,500 Telu arivo sy dimanjato
4,000 Efajato
Ino itihoky - What's this
Rano - Water

Taxi Broisse

Taxi Broisse stop - Fort Dauphin - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

A Taxi Broisse is a quintessentially Madagascan experience.

Basically a 7 1/2 tonne truck, this taxi service is the commonest and cheapest way for Malagasy people to navigate their way around the island.

To Western eyes, the entire process is pretty remarkable.

Once the Broisse arrives, in my case some three hours late, something of a frenzy occurs.

Rice, spring onions, spare tyres and anything else that will fit on board are crammed into the space. Including live chickens and ducks.

After about an hour, the humans come next. Including me.

Loading Taxi Broisse - Fort Dauphin - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

The back of the truck is literally crammed to bursting. We sit on rice, floorboards, crushed beans, tyres and whatever will suffice. I had a Malagasy woman's baby balanced in one arm, whilst my foot became trapped between another's leg and a huge bag of rice.

The Broisse then rolls off for some 4/5 hours of travel across dirt tracks. On our particular journey, heavy rains the night before rendered the road impassable, leading to a couple of hour's delay whilst leaves and trees created a pathway across the saturated ground.

The road to Saint Luce - floods - Giles Crosse 

Yet more apparent chaos occurs on entering villages along the route. Shouting, sweating Malagasy shift bags of rice down for the villagers, crowding at the back of the truck presumably seeking their next meal.

It is a touching sight and one that contrasts harshly with the vast volumes of food waste created in developed countries.

Some hours into the drive, the Malagasy break out into frenetic chat, song and laughter. It's a remarkable moment, some 200 voices in the back of a truck, smiling and laughing amid the most uncomfortable journey imaginable.

Within moments, talk turns to the only white face in the Taxi. My age, marital status, job and name are all enquired after, followed by attempts to pronounce it with varying degrees of success.

Once again the fundamental good nature and empathy underlying the Malagasy people is well revealed. Sharing such a journey is a pleasure and offers a real insight into how we might alter approaches to life, and consider quite how more meaningful are companionship and laughter than the solitude of business class.

Road to Saint Luce - Madagascar - Giles Crosse 

Weaving

Attending a weaving class with Malagasy women is a moving and humbling experience.

Woven crafts - Saint Luce region - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

Over the course of an hour, they create beautiful, intricate patterns with speed, grace and dexterity.

They also show a welcome lack of judgement over this particular reporter's weaving skills. Although after an hour or so I was getting the hang of it.

There is something disarming and natural about sitting with Madagascan villagers whilst they work on these crafts. Perhaps an element of the frenetic lifestyle we have created in Western societies drifts away, enabling a calmer and more pensive way of thinking.

Village - Saint Luce region - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

Then again there are polarities also. Weaving represents one of the few income sources available to villagers in this part of the world. It is hard work, requiring concentration and good eyesight.

Equally, it brings to mind relative questions surrounding the balance between financial realities. An hour's weaving cost me 5,000 Ariary, about £2.

This covers all materials, teaching, some woven crafts, a priceless experience and moments with some of the most charming and charismatic people I have ever met.

In the EU, US or many other parts of the world, few people would even consider getting out of bed for £2 an hour. Yet here the idea is welcomed with a smile, a laugh and the most benign and beautiful attitude imaginable.

The lessons take place in the midst of the village, surrounded by the realities and hardships of village life.

Here there is little or no external power. No sewerage system. No police, no healthcare. Women in childbirth will deal on their own, without a midwife, hospital ward or painkilling drugs, with however their individual case develops.

Open air stoves pollute the local atmosphere and the lungs of women cooking for families. Children run and skip in the dust, mostly without shoes and clad in second hand football T shirts from the West, often torn and filthy.

In the midst of this is found the most welcoming and empathetic human nature imaginable. The contrasts between money, development, society, happiness and friendship have rarely been better demonstrated.

Village - Saint Luce region - Madagascar - Giles Crosse

Beaches

Shipwreck beach, Fort Dauphin, Madagascar - Giles Crosse

The beaches in this part of the world are some of the most beautiful around, with breathtaking views to the horizon of the Indian Ocean.

But there is also a stark human lesson to be learned amidst this natural spectacle.

Open air defecation is among one of the many development issues facing Madagascar. A lack of sewerage systems and latrines, plus issues surrounding cultural change and education, mean that many people throughout the island still view open air defecation as the norm.

Of course this societal concept has wide ranging implications in terms of healthcare and disease control, in addition to potentially less obvious impacts on the tourist trade.

Many NGOs have installed latrine systems on the island, all too often used and then left. What is required is a newer type of development mindset, that offers people living here the tools to implement and create their own change.

It is blindingly obvious that with the ingenuity and intelligence they possess, Malagasy people are more than capable of building and maintaining basic latrine systems.

What is needed is an approach that suggests the cultural and mental tools to enable a shift from outdated mindsets, which are so often at the core of development work.

In many ways the reasons beaches become defecation sites are simple, the tide comes in and washes away the problem, neatly, freely and regularly.

But this reality makes beaches unpleasant places to be, spreads disease, and creates a number of additional negative impacts on both the tourist trade and foreigner's perceptions of Madagascar itself.

This might seem like a simple problem to fix, but as is often the case it illustrates the complexities facing development workers and the developing world as a whole.

Giles Crosse

Giles Crosse

It may not seem that attractive, but a long drop latrine is actually a pretty amazing tool viewed in a wider context.

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.

Tana - Madagascar

TANA....

View of Tana from Manoir Rouge - Giles Crosse

After another mammoth travel session I am here in Tana awaiting a 5:45AM start to fly down to Fort Dauphin in South Madagascar....

Thus far the people seem very friendly and kind, including one offer from a petroleum tanker officer to drive me around Tana when I get back from Fort Dauphin... Watch this space!

Very much looking forward to investigating the ecology and flora and fauna of the island and getting stuck into development work.

More meaningful updates for you ASAP!

Cloudy Tana sunset - Giles Crosse

Two days to go

Getting into final preparations now for departure...

Heathrow - Nairobi / Nairobi - Antananarivo

Night in Tana...then

Antananarivo - Fort Dauphin...

Details below courtesy of http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-13861843

Madagascar is the world's fourth biggest island after Greenland, New Guinea and Borneo. Because of its isolation most of its mammals, half its birds, and most of its plants exist nowhere else on earth.

The island is heavily exposed to tropical cyclones which bring torrential rains and destructive floods, such as the ones in 2000 and 2004, which left thousands homeless.

The Malagasy are thought to be descendants of Africans and Indonesians who settled on the island more than 2,000 years ago. Malagasy pay a lot of attention to their dead and spend much effort on ancestral tombs, which are opened from time to time so the remains can be carried in procession, before being rewrapped in fresh shrouds.

At a glance

• Politics: In January 2009 political unrest erupted into violence. President Ravalomanana resigned in March following a fierce power struggle with opposition leader Andry Rajoelina, who then assumed power with military backing.
• Economy: Madagascar is the world's leading producer of vanilla. Many areas suffer food shortages.
• International: African Union suspended Madagascar and EU froze aid after the 2009 coup

Country profiles compiled by BBC Monitoring

After sometimes harsh French colonial rule, which included the bloody suppression of an uprising in 1947, Madagascar gained independence in 1960. The military seized power in the early 1970s with the aim of achieving a socialist paradise.

This did not materialise. The economy went into decline and by 1982 the authorities were forced to adopt a structural adjustment programme imposed by the International Monetary Fund.
The World Bank has estimated that 70% of Malagasy live on less than $1 per day. Poverty and the competition for agricultural land have put pressure on the island's dwindling forests, home to much of Madagascar's unique wildlife and key to its emerging tourist industry.
The island has strong ties with France as well as economic and cultural links with French-speaking West Africa.
However, Andry Rajoelina's seizure of power in 2009 left the country isolated by the international community and deprived of foreign aid.
An agreement to move back to constitutional rule in 2013 hung in the balance after Mr Rajoelina announced he would stand for the presidency after all. Both he and ex-president Ravalomanana had earlier agreed not to contest the election.