Sunday, May 1, 2016

Sojourn to Madagascar - Part 16 - Morondava B - The Weekend



With Anne on the Pirogue
In the previous Sojourn I told you of our visit to the Allée des Baobabs and the Kirindy Forest Preserve. Here we fill you in with the rest of the weekend we spent at the coast.

After checking into the Tecicogne (Three Coconut) Resort, which is really just a small hotel with about 10 rooms, we went out to the Morondava Beach. Low waves between a foot and two feet (around 50cm) high broke gently on the sandy beach which seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see in either direction. The flooded river, its mouth opening just south of Morondava, sent a stream of yellow-brown water some two city blocks wide north along the beach. Beyond this stream we saw a sharp line, and then the clear deep blue Indian Ocean stretched to the horizon.

Only a few people sat or strolled on the beach, most of them Malagasies. We crossed the sand and played a bit in the warm waters of the ocean. No one had a real urge to swim in the muddy brown waters. I met a well dressed Japanese woman who is touring the world alone. She taught me a few Japanese sentences and then made a movie of my repeating them to send to her friends.
Pirogue Under Sail
Out in the blue of the ocean a fishing pirogue (dugout canoe made from a balsa log and a side rigger) sporting a large dirty square sail glided lazily northwards. Just about opposite us it turned in towards the beach. As it came in the two fishermen furled the sail and lowered the mast. They easily rode the small breakers in to the beach. Some people standing nearby joined them in pushing the boat up just above the water’s edge. They laid their entire catch on the sand: one stingray and what Sylvia called, a nurse shark. A small, curious crowd gathered around and chatted with them about their experiences. As usual my lack of any understanding of Malagasy precluded my learning anything from their conversation. Eventually someone with some money came by and dickered for the fish. Most of the crowd then grabbed the pirogue and dragged it way up the beach beyond the reaches of a high tide.
Nurse Shark and Sting Ray
Sylvia squatted at the water’s edge and dribbled wet sand into a forest of squirrely trees. Pretty soon the two Payet children joined Sylvia, although the restive Aldwyn couldn’t stay in one place very long. The temperature of the water was a comfortable 80-something degrees (close to 30°C)—a far cry from the Pacific off the California coast.

After breakfast on Sabbath morning, Edwin and I walked out of the hotel and down to the end of a sand peninsula that hosted scores of vessels. Most of them were pirogues, but there were a few larger vessels in various states of disrepair. The two-masted Fahenvenua was about half the size of the Mayflower model in Plymouth Harbor. It was beached like all the other vessels, but the watchman on it told us they were awaiting cargo.

After breakfast we took the families out to an abandoned resort on the beachfront. We sat down on the deck in the shade of one of the A-frame bungalows and listened to the children as they told us stories about their Sabbath School lessons. Ann had a very good story that showed that she had been thinking about it. Aldwyn’s story blended Bible and action fantasy. It had plenty of action but no plot.
Sabbath School at an Abandoned Beach Resort
We ambled slowly back to the Trecicogne because of the heat which was well up into the 90s (30s C). By the time we got back, we decided we were hungry. The ladies pooled all of our leftovers and opened cans of lasagna and lentils. After lunch we sacked out for a well earned, or not, siesta.

About 3:30 people were stirring. We found Gilbert, the pirogue owner, who earlier had offered to take us out in the lagoon and river and show us the mangroves and the fishing village across the wide river. He spoke both English and French, which was an extra plus.
Mick, Ellie, Alphia, Aldwyn, Edwin, and Anne under the Hat
His pirogue was dug out of the trunk of a large balsa tree. The balsas grow south along the coast towards Toliara. It had one outrigger. I often wondered, but not for very long, why they didn’t have two outriggers for greater stability. I had my answer when we docked along a sand bank and I stepped out without getting my feet wet. If there had been a second outrigger, we could never have gotten that close to the bank.

Gilbert pronounced his name as the French would but allowed us to pronounce it in English. He explained that there are three types of mangrove trees. Midwives make a tea of the leaves of the small-leaf mangrove. The mother drinks the tea right after giving birth. I don’t remember what effect the tea had on the woman. Sorry!
Large-Leaf Mangrove Fruit
Women grind up the fruit of the large-leaf mangrove to make a mask that they coat their faces with. Of course it helps keep the direct rays of the sun off of their faces, but they seem to wear the mask for the same reason some women wear lipstick. We saw a lot of women wearing this mask in Morondava. The practice hasn’t seemed to spread to the rest of the island.
The Latest in Mangrove Fashion
Gilbert didn’t tell us about uses for the medium leaf mangrove.

Gilbert’s brother Mick road in the rear and Gilbert in the front. Mick seemed to only understand Malagasy. As we were first getting into the pirogue, Ellie came running up and climbed in, so there were 9 of us in the pirogue.

Ellie was a Greek woman of about 30, I would guess. We had first encountered her at the Thursday evening dinner. She spoke English and French perfectly with hardly any accent. She has an MBA and works at some big international concern in Paris. She tours the world as a financial consultant, and as if she doesn’t get enough travel in that way, on her vacations she flies to exotic places. She had been in Mada for a week or so, and she was leaving early Sunday morning by car to Tana where she would catch a plane back to Paris on Monday and be in the office first thing on Tuesday morning.

She seemed to really enjoy our company. She and Sylvia had had a long discussion on Thursday night. She told Sylvia that she gives the existence of God a 50-50 chance. On the other hand, she was very respectful as we said grace when she joined us for Saturday night supper at the hotel restaurant.

Gilbert took us to a fishing village on the south side of the Morondava River. Thousands of people live there and travel back and forth daily. At low tide there is a large sandbar right down the center of the river. There are two large pirogues that provide transport across the river. One takes people from Morondava across to the sandbar. The people all get out, walk across the sandbar, and then get in the second pirogue and travel on to the island. Of course there is equal traffic crossing the other direction too. At high tide the river covers the sandbar, but the crossing remains the same. People travel to the sandbar. They get out and wade, with the water up above their knees, to the other pirogue and ride on up to the village. Of course they have to wade out from the bank to get into the pirogue and then wade from the pirogue to their destination. The fare is 1000 Ariary one way, that’s about 32¢ U.S. This is indeed a sizeable sum to them. Most of the villagers are extremely poor. The village cannot be reached by road.

We crossed the river higher up than the water taxis do. When we reached the sandbar, Gilbert and Mick jumped out and pushed with all their might to get us across several 100 yards (meters) of sand bank.
 Jocelyn (Dzudzel) and the 50,000 Ar. Home (Under Construction)
We walked around the village with Gilbert. He pointed out a new house that someone was making for themselves out of mangrove poles. They thatch the roof with coconut leaves. The final cash cost for the house will be about 50,000 Ariary (about $15.00 US). Since mangrove poles don’t last too well, the house will probably not last more than 18 months, maximum. There is a large, neatly kept compound in the middle of the village built by nuns. They live in relative luxury compared with the rest of the villagers. A number of these poor houses, including the nunnery, had a satellite TV antenna.
Sunset on the Pirogue
Sunday morning we left Trecicogne for home. We stopped in town so the Payets could buy souvenirs, we could purchase drinking water, and the driver could fill the van with diesel. For about 400 of the 540 km trip the thermometer on my watch read about 105° (over 40°C. We had no air conditioning. Then we hit a rain storm as we got back into the highlands. My pate about froze, and I rode the last hour with my hand on my head to try and keep it warm.

On the trip home we had Edwin and Alphie tell us about their courtship and marriage. He is from Reunion, an island in the Indian Ocean about 875 km (550 miles) from Madagascar. Alphie is from the Philippines, which is about 10 times as far from Madagascar or Reunion. They met at the Adventist graduate university AIIAS in the Philippines.
Arriving Home
We arrived home about 7:30 that Sunday evening, and yes, it was still raining.

We left UAZ one week later. On our last Sabbath we had potluck at the Payet’s home with all of the other expatriates. This time we contributed nothing, nada, since we had essentially nothing in the house. We spent the evening packing. We were only allowed two bags instead of 4 since South African Airways considers this an internal flight. Furthermore they restricted the weight in our bags much more tightly than they had on our international flights. We repacked our bags when we got to the airport so that none of them was more than a kg overweight. We were allowed to take our two smaller bags as carry-on, which they subsequently checked at the gate.

Pam and Gideon took us on a tour of the Adventist organizations in Tana. We briefly toured the ADRA area. Then we spent some time in the Indian Ocean Union Conference area. They have a fairly large medical and dental presence there as well as a print shop and other amenities. Finally we visited the Central Madagascar Conference compound. At one end of the compound it has a huge amphitheatre that they have carved out of a natural valley. It seats several thousand people with a huge baptismal font in the shape of a cross where they can have at least a dozen pastors baptizing people simultaneously.

We had grown to love Mada and its people, and we really hated to leave it all. I about choked up as we flew around Tana on our way out. On the other hand, we were headed home!






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