What's News?

When overseas I find myself developing an accent. I have realized in order for my English to be better understood, I need to converse utilizing local vowel and consonant pronunciations. I have also adopted phrases in English that probably don't make much sense such as 'full stop'(end of story), 'alight' (disembark a vehicle), and 'what's news.'

There are a few different greetings in Malagasy but one directly translated means 'what's news?' I guess it is similar to our English phrase 'what's going on?' I get asked at least once a day from someone "what's news" and providing our usually limited vocabulary in each others languages, I respond 'good' or 'not much' and that seems to suffice the inquirer. However, I do wish that I could give a more detailed response and really share with them what news I may have at that particular moment.

So since I can't share with them what's news I will share with you!

This past week I have experienced a few Malagasy firsts: snake siting - which isn't worth reliving in my memory in order to document it here; the worst rice, and perhaps the worst consumable product, I have ever digested in my life - which is better left forgotten and never to be repeated; and a Malagasy concert - which was epic.

The pastor and his wife of the local church are leaving and have taken up a position further south. So this weekend there was a farewell concert in their honor. Upon crossing the threshold of the church, we were given programs outlining who the performers were and how long this rendezvous would last - 2:30-5:00pm. It seems as though time is always an under-estimated calculation that always warrants adding an additional hour, at least.

The church was packed and many had traveled throughout the district to attend this event. It was interesting to see the different groups. There was one choir comprised of about 10 performers, which is relatively small for this type of event. They were one of the few choirs that did not wear robes and I noticed that many of them did not even have shoes. This is usually a sign of poverty because everyone wears shoes to church even if they don't the rest of the week. Despite their attire, or lack of, they still sang beautifully. About half way through the concert many of them got up to leave; probably to start their multiple hour trek home before dark settled.

One of my favorite choirs of the day was the local church's children's choir, for two reasons: they sing with every fiber of their being, even if they don't know the words; and I have a crush on one of the choir members, I think he is about 11. This is one of the most beautiful children I have ever seen and whenever I see him, I wish that he was 15years older! Don't judge me! But don't worry, I think I am out of luck and some other, much younger girl has caught his eye.