Oh the market...

This was my first full day in Ambositra. I have a pretty sweet loft above the offices sharing a kitchen with Colin, a Peace Corps volunteer working with ADRA. It is nice to have someone my age and an American to be neighbors with, I feel spoiled to say the least.

Colin took me on a tour of the town and in the afternoon I ventured into the market. It is always an interesting experience going to the market in developing countries, especially when you do not speak the local language. I am grateful that 80% of communication is body language because I am sure I utilize all of that 80% if not more especially in the initial stages of language learning. I first went to the basket vendor to buy a shopping basket. I stayed there a bit longer than necessary in order to make friends with him. In the state of foggy cross-cultural communication, if you could call it that, he told me his name twice and I forgot it immediately. However, he was nice and hope to stop by his place again. I then entered the craziness called the market. It was a bit overwhelming but I accomplished my mission. I discovered that I am yet again in a country where I tower over the vast majority of the population. I hit my head twice on the top of the vegetable stalls while navigating my way through the maze. I am sure it will happen again over the course of the next six months. One of the nice things here is that you don't really bargain; people give you the real price. I did however talk the basket man down 2,000Ariry ($1); it made me feel better and I am sure he still made some money. After that I was exhausted of using my limited mixture of French, Malagasy, and sign language so I just accepted the price of my other goods. I did inquire about prices before I went so I knew I wasn't getting gypped off too badly.

Madagascar is a bit different than East Africa; I was able to walk down the street quite peacefully without a herd of children calling after me or wanting to hold my hand. Despite the nuisance it sometimes is, I kind of miss that. I am ever increasingly grateful for my time in the Tanzanian bush. Due to that experience, I now know tricks such as bleaching my cabbage and sorting my rice from chaff and rocks. I am sure I learn much more, but for right now, I know how to survive! Tanzania was a much rougher experience which is making Madagascar feel like a cake walk, so far that is. I don't think I fully appreciated my time in the TZ bush until today when realizing all the skills I learned, the things I can live without, and joy in simplicity.