Anyway, for now, I'll post some little tidbits from Madagascar and will get some juicier, photo-ful stuff up when I can.
The People
Madagascar has eighteen different ethnic groups (although because this is Africa, people usually call them 'tribes'). These groups are divided based mainly on geography--it's not like you can tell what tribe people are from by what they look like, although there is a huge diversity of physical appearance in Madagascar. Every group does have certain things all their own... specific hat styles, icons, customs and taboos, as well as their own dialects of Malagasy, which are occasionally not mutually intelligible. There is also an even wider variety of "sub-tribes", sometimes mixes of two tribes, although it varies whether people identify with just one tribe or more. People generally speak their regional dialect best, in addition to the "official" dialect--that of the Merina group, which provided the last Malagasy regents and still populates the capital area--but as increased access to university education and larger businesses move people around the country, people are more and more familiar with other dialects. Imitating other dialects is also huge sport here, and it's particularly funny if you can get a foreigner to do it, so I've heard a decent amount about several regions' local slang.
The Language
Although there is significant regional variation in Malagasy, some things interesting features are common across all dialects:
-There is a definite article but no indefinite articles.
-When using words like "this" or "that", they are repeated both before and after the noun, so to say "this cat", you would say "ity piso ity", where ity = this. Depending on the situation, the second iteration will change slightly, but I haven't really figured out those rules yet.
-There is no rule for how to change verbs from active voice to passive voice. You have to memorize the different forms for every verb. There are a few (highly frustrating) rule-less changes like this.
The Currency
Interestingly, Madagascar has one of only two currencies in
the world whose basic unit (like the dollar, euro, pound, etc) isn’t divided on
a base-10 system (the other is the Mauritanian ouguiya). Rather, the basic unit, the ariary, is divided into five
subunits (iraimbilanja), which would be fun if only the ariary was worth enough that anyone
ever had a chance to use them. Unfortunately, 100 ariary (about five cents)
tends to be the smallest transaction unit. More frustratingly, Madagascar used
to have a different currency, the franc Malgache, which was worth even less
than the ariary and was phased out in favor of the ariary through a 5-to-1 ratio some
years ago. Despite the now-long history of the ariary, the value of bills is
also printed on them in francs and people often give prices in francs, an incredibly
obnoxious habit that requires more mental math ability than I can usually come
up with on the spot, especially since the price also has to be translated from
French, which often already requires more French ability than I have on the
spot.
The Frip
The frip is where you go to purchase second-hand clothes in
Madagascar, and it usually takes the form of a series of market stalls with
some clothes hung on the walls and most just dumped into huge piles along the
street. People shop by pawing through the street piles, and the Malagasy name
for the frip means “you pick it up and you put it back down.” Frip clothes
generally start their journey in Tana, with the clothes you find getting older,
more worn, and less fashionable (but at least cheaper) as you get towards Fort
Dauphin way down in the southeast. Frequently in Fort Dauphin, the clothes are
sold with the Goodwill, Value Village, or Savers tags still attached. In other
parts of the country, clothes and shoes are meticulously washed before being
sold, especially places like Fianarantsoa and Tana (Antananarivo), where
streets will be lined with thousands of shoes for sale.
The French
Most of the French seem to have left with the end of the
colonial era, but there are still holdouts here. They’re usually recognizable
as older men, often with a bit of a paunch, a ponytail, and a run-down, world-weary
look to them, and frequently, they are in the company of an attractive young
Malagasy woman. (This does work the other way too; older vazaha/foreigner women of all
nationalities end up with local men far younger than them.) It
grosses me out and rubs me the wrong way that so many young, beautiful local
women leap into relationships with lecherous, fetishizing old vazaha men (or the new generation of slightly younger but otherwise very similar icky vazaha guys), but I suppose the money
and the potential for a glamorous international life are attractive lures. As
for the guys, in addition to getting an “exotic” young babe for a wife, marrying
a Malagasy person opens up the only route for them to own property here in their own
name, as it has been illegal for vazaha to own property in Madagascar since
independence*.
*I suspect this is a far less significant motivator, though, as most vazaha who want property here can find Malagasy “business partners” to provide names
for deeds without too much trouble.
Names
In Madagascar, people have several names, usually three.
Interestingly, none of the names are inherited along family lines, unless
someone is named after a relative or multiple siblings are given the same name (or both), which isn’t uncommon. But there is no
“family last name” that gets passed through generations. There also isn’t any
particular convention about which name gets used—people go by any of their
names or a nickname. However, there are a few conventions that most people
follow. On any official document, the first name is written in all caps and it
generally fills the “nom” spot, with the other names filling in the “prenoms”
spot. Traditional Malagasy names often
start with “Ra,” which doesn’t really have a meaning but is a respectful or
honorific unit. The rest of the name is generally very meaningful. Some of my
friends’ names translate as "happy" "good friend," " no suffering," "not alone," and
"makes people feel comforted." There are also some less phenomenal ones, like
“girl again,” (as in “not another one…”). There are also names (or parts of names)
that come up a lot. “Fara” means ‘last’, and it’s usually part of the name of a family’s
last child, if they know they’re stopping with that one. More common is "Solo." It's often given to the next baby born after one child dies in infancy, and it literally means "replacement." Also, older men are often defined by their children, and after a certain point, they are referred to mainly (or only) as "so-and-so's father," rather than by their name.
Creative Compound Word Vocabulary
Malagasy has a number of interesting compound words, only a few of which I can think of off the top of my head, but they do merit repeating:
Masoandro -> "eye of the day" -> the sun
Masoandro -> "eye of the day" -> the sun
Ranomandry -> "sleeping water" -> snow
Solomaso -> "replacement eyes" -> glasses
Solosaina -> "replacement brain" -> computer
Fofombady -> "smell of a spouse" -> fiancee
Tanindrazana -> soil of the ancestors" -> homeland
Fofombady -> "smell of a spouse" -> fiancee
Tanindrazana -> soil of the ancestors" -> homeland
Cats
All cats in Madagascar are named "Mimi." People don't really keep animals as pets here--dogs and cats both live outside, and though they are fed, they're not really interacted with in the same way as pets in the States (a strong limiting factor is the ubiquity of fleas everywhere in Madagascar). Nobody cuddles with their animals or really plays with them, and dogs aren't trained. Some dogs get names and are put to work as guardians, but many people consider them untouchables and abuse them. Cats fare better, but they still aren't individualized--instead, it has just become agreed upon across the country that any cat can be called with "Mimi."
Hotelies
The name for any small restaurant that serves mostly or only Malagasy food is "hotely." They are usually identifiable as small, slightly dingy establishments with signs offering the day's menu options. Most hotelies advertise themselves as serving Malagasy and Chinese food, but almost invariably the "Chinese" food options only consist of 'soupe chinoise', a thin clear soup with noodles and green onions; mi-sao, fried noodles with vegetables; and 'riz cantonais', fried rice. For whatever reason, these three dishes have become a staple of Malagasy menus nationwide, regardless of a town's actual Chinese population or influence. "Cuisine Malagasy" is often 'loaky' and rice, with loaky being essentially anything--almost always meat, but rarely more unusual pairings, such as noodles. Generally, hotely meals cost $1-2, and they come with a free drink, ranon'apango. This is often called "rice tea", but it's really just water that has been boiled in the rice pot to loosen up the layer of burnt or stuck-on rice lining the pot (the "apango"). It generally comes out a murky brownish color, but it's tastier than it looks.
Picking Your Nose
It is entirely socially acceptable here. I've seen people do it in staff meetings. So is blowing your nose into your fingers, and I've even seen hotely staff do it at work.
Picking Your Nose
It is entirely socially acceptable here. I've seen people do it in staff meetings. So is blowing your nose into your fingers, and I've even seen hotely staff do it at work.
Unnecessary Deaths
On a more depressing note, people often die here from causes that would be easily treated in the States, even adults in major cities, simply because they are unable to reach adequate medical care in time (this can require a multi-day overland trip to the capital) or because it simply doesn't exist here. I've been in the country for about six months and already at least two people I've met in Fort Dauphin have suffered a preventable death (from childbirth, a collapsed lung). Out in the bush, death is an even more regular occurrence, and seeing a doctor hardly crosses people's minds, as ombiasa (so-called "witch doctors" with arcane, complicated treatment regimens) provide a cheaper and closer source of information, and one that more easily fits the consensus that any given illness has a spiritual source.
The Lemur-Eating Snake
One day, I was in the shop in the town near our campsite with some friends when we noticed a huge crowd of people moving towards the main forest entrance. The shopkeeper explained: there was a snake in the forest eating a lemur! Obviously, I dashed out to witness such an event. Once on the road, I realized that there were hundreds of people (some armed with slingshots) streaming into the forest in a mob, which would occasionally break into a run so as not to miss the excitement. Eventually, after we had charged maybe a kilometer or so in, it became increasingly apparent that no such spectacle was to be found. At one point, a woman was standing surrounded by a group of people and vehemently insisting that it was only slightly further in, but when we did find the group of lemurs, there was no snake and they were entirely unperturbed. As it turned out, the myth of a giant snake, so big that it eats lemurs and can't be stepped over, is a recurring one in the community that resurfaces every few years whenever someone thinks they see something weird in the forest. In a place where a culture-wide, unbelievably intense fear of snakes and chameleons sends even the cockiest men running in terror at the sight of me picking one up, an armed mob is the community's only defense against such a beast.
Taxis
In Antananarivo, taxis are a standardized pale yellow and in miraculously decent condition, although many appear to have been manufactured during the sixties or before. In Fort Dauphin, they are whatever random cars the cabbies happen to own, held together mostly by small bits of twisted wire and a decent amount of luck. Seats rock wildly around whatever single point of fixation connects them to the floor, doors are only opened by reaching deep into the guts, the engine is started by pushing the car up a hill and then letting it roll down again, seatbelts are a distant memory at best. You get what you pay for; cab rides anywhere in town are only about 40 cents.
The Most Popular Song in the Country
Listen to this song five times a day every day and you will get a good sense of Malagasy pop culture, especially in Fort Dauphin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmpocUVTdg0
It actually sounds pretty good on a computer, but on the tinny speakers found in most hotelies and personal radios/MP3 players in Fort Dauphin, it has a particularly obnoxious whiny tone to it so hearing it over and over again is really irritating.
Popular Foreign Music
In addition to its own pop music, Madagascar has developed a taste for some imports from Andafy (abroad). These are most popular around the capital and some favorites include:
-When Jesus Say Yes (this one is so popular in Fort Dauphin I thought it was Malagasy at first)
-When a Man Loves a Woman
-The Power of Love
-That song from Titanic
-Really, pretty much any sickly, sappy, romantic music in English, French, or Spanish
-Boy bands of any decade
-Wiggle
Toaka Gasy
Toaka gasy is Malagasy moonshine, by itself about 60% alcohol and with an odor of paint thinner. It's brewed in rusty oil drums in fields or by the side of the road. Most people use it for "rhum infusee", rum flavored with a virtually infinite combination of local ingredients. Fruit, vanilla pods, cinnamon sticks, and other ingredients are simply tossed in a bottle and left to sit for several months. Afterwards, they are a deceptively tasty local delicacy that has left many a vazaha with a nasty hangover.
Pirogues
Also called "laka", these are the dugout canoes that are as much boat as most people have access to here. Sadly, all the trees large enough to make new pirogues have been cut down, at least in the region by Fort Dauphin. Now, most pirogues are riddled with holes poorly plugged with bits of fabric and plastic bags, though numerous men still brave the open sea in them as fishing is a main source of income for the coastal communities.
The Coast-Mountains Trade Route
In the bush, the products people consume are entirely dependent on what grows in their area, so people on the coast tend to eat a lot of fish and cassava. In the mountains, more fruit and vegetables, as well as sugarcane, are grown, and the two regions trade with one another whenever they have a surplus. Unfortunately, even zebu carts are unable to make the journey over the uneven terrain, so all goods are carried by foot from one area to another, often a distance of 30 km or more. In the case of fish, the long journey under a hot sun is likely to spoil the meat, so anyone hoping to sell their fish inland has to jog the distance, occasionally carrying as much as an entire shark cut up in baskets or hanging from a stick.
Seasonal Fruit
The ease of obtaining most fruits popular in the States at any time just by going to the store really ruins the joy of seasonal fruit. In the bush, fruit is rare during winter, so the first mangos of the season create huge excitement and anticipation. Soon, the markets are flooded with mangoes, which usually sell for 100 ariary (5 cents) each. Just about the time that people are getting tired of eating mangoes all the time, the trees erupt in a brilliant cascade of red lychees and the entire process repeats with them, then again with pineapples, and so on. I've also found the mangos and lychees here to be the tastiest I've ever had--usually I don't like them in Andafy!
Madagascar's Mystery Ingredient
At any local market here, you can find the normal staple foods and goods--bags of rice and beans, piles of fruit and vegetables, soap, laundry powder, etc... Everything you would expect, plus one more item: pure MSG. It's sold in single-serve Mi-Won packets, no need to even dress it up as a flavoring cube (although there are those too), and it finds its way into virtually every meal.
Okay, that's all I can think of for now. I'll put up some new posts with photos in the hopefully-near future and may add some photos to this one as well.
Toaka Gasy
Toaka gasy is Malagasy moonshine, by itself about 60% alcohol and with an odor of paint thinner. It's brewed in rusty oil drums in fields or by the side of the road. Most people use it for "rhum infusee", rum flavored with a virtually infinite combination of local ingredients. Fruit, vanilla pods, cinnamon sticks, and other ingredients are simply tossed in a bottle and left to sit for several months. Afterwards, they are a deceptively tasty local delicacy that has left many a vazaha with a nasty hangover.
Pirogues
Also called "laka", these are the dugout canoes that are as much boat as most people have access to here. Sadly, all the trees large enough to make new pirogues have been cut down, at least in the region by Fort Dauphin. Now, most pirogues are riddled with holes poorly plugged with bits of fabric and plastic bags, though numerous men still brave the open sea in them as fishing is a main source of income for the coastal communities.
The Coast-Mountains Trade Route
In the bush, the products people consume are entirely dependent on what grows in their area, so people on the coast tend to eat a lot of fish and cassava. In the mountains, more fruit and vegetables, as well as sugarcane, are grown, and the two regions trade with one another whenever they have a surplus. Unfortunately, even zebu carts are unable to make the journey over the uneven terrain, so all goods are carried by foot from one area to another, often a distance of 30 km or more. In the case of fish, the long journey under a hot sun is likely to spoil the meat, so anyone hoping to sell their fish inland has to jog the distance, occasionally carrying as much as an entire shark cut up in baskets or hanging from a stick.
Seasonal Fruit
The ease of obtaining most fruits popular in the States at any time just by going to the store really ruins the joy of seasonal fruit. In the bush, fruit is rare during winter, so the first mangos of the season create huge excitement and anticipation. Soon, the markets are flooded with mangoes, which usually sell for 100 ariary (5 cents) each. Just about the time that people are getting tired of eating mangoes all the time, the trees erupt in a brilliant cascade of red lychees and the entire process repeats with them, then again with pineapples, and so on. I've also found the mangos and lychees here to be the tastiest I've ever had--usually I don't like them in Andafy!
Madagascar's Mystery Ingredient
At any local market here, you can find the normal staple foods and goods--bags of rice and beans, piles of fruit and vegetables, soap, laundry powder, etc... Everything you would expect, plus one more item: pure MSG. It's sold in single-serve Mi-Won packets, no need to even dress it up as a flavoring cube (although there are those too), and it finds its way into virtually every meal.
Okay, that's all I can think of for now. I'll put up some new posts with photos in the hopefully-near future and may add some photos to this one as well.
