One Of The Guys!

I have always wondered what life is like as a guy. After all, being a girl is all I have ever known. I think I get a taste of man-life when I am in Africa. Being a white woman, I have a few advantages: I am able to approach and connect with women, even though I seldom do and I usually get the respect of men because even though I am a woman, I am a white woman, which makes all the difference. So for the most part, I can get away with being one of the guys and thoroughly enjoyed that yesterday!

Thus far, I have been the only girl to play basketball with this group of men from ADRA, well, until this week. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about this new girl. Would the guys start treating me like a girl now that another female has joined? Who is this chic invading my turf anyways, as if it is ‘my’ turf or that I am even good enough to consider it as such – I don’t think so but that’s a minor side note hardly worth mentioning. Thankfully this chic hasn’t interfered yet with my persona as one of the guys.

Yesterday was an election day therefore the office was closed – holler! The guys decided to play basketball, even though it was Wednesday and we only play on Tuesday and Thursday. Other faza (white people) probably would have warned me about going out around town due to the election and the political tension is quite high. Good thing for me they don’t always know what I am doing. Nevertheless, through the relationships I have formed playing basketball with these dudes, I have acquired about ten brothers and I know I am just as safe with them as I would be sitting at home behind my gated fortress.

I have learned a lot from my ball-throwing band of brothers. My bi-weekly rendezvous with them provides some quality Malagasy language immersion. Plus through this sport, I think they have learned that I am a human being just like them and not a high fluting white person like many are assumed to be. I also joke around with them and they have realized that I do have a sense of humor, even though I am not always able to verbally express it or contribute to the friendly banter and jesting.

But yesterday I learned new things from them. When we arrived at the court, since it was a ‘holiday,’ there were a lot of school kids playing basketball. I was thinking that if we were back in the States, a group of guys like this would have easily wiped them off the court and told them tough luck we are bigger than you, but not my guys. Instead we wondered off in search of an open court, which we didn’t find but this time we waited. What was more striking to me at the second court was that the players were teenage girls. Also back in the States, they too would have been kicked off the court and a small piece of me expected that to happen here since these are girls after all, frequently considered inferior. However, we waited for them to finish and while they were playing the guys lined the court and cheered the girls on clapping for them as they made shots. We finally played and had a jolly good time for the next 2 ½ hours before we collapsed from endorphin overload and the beating African sun calling it a day, even though it was only 8:30am. Instead of instantly parting our separate ways, the guys decided to go get some cold drinks. They all pitched in and contributed to the pot. I felt a bit awkward because I didn’t have any money on me. Nevertheless that was not a problem, they had me covered and we proceeded with our invasion into a little shop. Even though I didn’t help pay for the drinks, I was served first, a great lesson in humility. There was also a small child in the shop with his mother and one of the guys, Tentely (which means honey in English and one of my favorite people), got a glass for him and gave him some of our soda demonstrating to me that their generosity isn’t limited. The ever-present laughter and joking continued as I sat in simple joy proud to be one of the guys.

Madagascar is burning!

My boss, John, has made the unfortunate and heartbreaking comment a few times in the past month, “Madagascar is on fire.” In other parts of the world bush fires are accidental and people institute no burning laws in certain areas and seasons, but it is quite the opposite here. From the north of Madagascar all the way to the south remnants of bush fires, scorched villages, and blacken vegetation cannot be hidden. Hillsides are spotted with the orange blaze by night and the air is littered with smoke by day. Thankfully in this region we have been receiving rain so the fires have ceased. However, that does not mask the scars the landscape bares from its lost fight of recent days. It is ironic that the very people who are igniting the blaze are self-destructing and suffer from destroyed homes and villages swallowed by the non-prejudice inferno. Madagascar is on fire for two reasons: slash and burn agriculture and political unrest.

Slash and burn is an ancient practice that is believed to restore nutrients to the soil which is done in preparation for planting season. In addition, people burn in an effort to get rid of useless vegetation which then allows tender shoots to grow providing food for zebu cows, Madagascar’s most esteemed meat industry. Regardless, the few benefits this has for farmers and cattle herders is far outweighed by the long-term detrimental effects on the environment, not to mention the immediate loss of capital such as a persons house. The educated Malagasy have termed this an “unfortunate act.”

The political situation in Madagascar has been unstable for the past few years. The last president was one of the best this country has ever had, despite his semi-corrupt tendencies and not-so-faithful posse. He was actually on the path to fulfilling his promises and Madagascar saw significant development for the first time. Eventually his cabinet switched their allegiance and financial support to a constitutionally under-age firecracker who by profession is a musical DJ. As a result, a coup arose and the previous president has sought asylum in South Africa. Madagascar has been functioning under a coup government for almost a year now. It is not an internationally recognized governing body and many international dignitaries have pulled out and with them their representing governmental support, including the US Ambassador. USAID, as an agency of the United States government who is funding our ADRA project, is not allowed to fund development projects in countries that are not internationally recognized in an effort to tactically encourage legal governance; therefore, they are only funding projects masked as relief or Title II projects (food security) limiting the kind of projects that can be done here. As a general rule the Malagasy are quite passive, however that mood is changing and word on the street is the worst is yet to come. The people and this land are groaning and it shows. Madagascar is an environmental hotspot, due to their rare and indigenous animal and plant species, and the Malagasy are destroying it in demonstration of their political dissatisfaction as well as to raise international awareness of their suffering.

November 17 is the election of a new constitution. Everyday you see more and more posters plastered around town and people walking around with 'ENY' t-shirts declaring the upcoming event. My personal favorite is the pick-up with about five speakers tethered in the truck bed rigged to a car battery and sound system driving around town all day obnoxiously blaring messages in Malagasy from the government. Despite the governments efforts the Malagasy are feeling hopeless, as this is the umpteenth time for constitutional reformation and no end of governmental corruption in sight. The next few weeks and months are pivotal times for Madagascar but unless change is seen and felt the land will continue to smolder and the hearts of the Malagasy with it as the cries of both continue to go unheard.