Pictures from inside our cocoon.
Asher has come of age to play in the sandbox without eating too much of it. I did sift through the sand a few weeks ago and picked out at least 2 litres of cat poop, so it’s all good now.

I’ve still got those plastic Avent baby bottles that were apparently banned or recalled or whatever a few years ago. The ones that cause cancer or sterilization or something. I’ve debated what to do with them now that i know this because undoubtedly if i throw them out someone will be very happy to use them for their baby. In this place we’ve observed that if it serves a purpose it doesnt matter what the vessel has been used for previously… like using gas jerry cans or used paint cans for collecting drinking water for example.

These last three photos are from our walking loop past the vegetable market. Josh thinks this house looks like something from a Dr. Seuss book.

Just a few notes:
1. my Madagascar girlfriends have been leaving comments recently on my blog entries that give a different (more accurate? ) perspective of the topics i’ve been writing about. I’ll leave it to you to read them yourselves instead of me reiterating what they’ve said in a separate blog entry. Just click on the “Comments” link at the bottom of any entry to read what people have written (and feel free to post yourself if you feel so led).
2. a guy from our church has a blog where he posts a lot of really great photos of things i never seem to either see or feel comfortable taking photos of. I asked him if i could link to his blog but he didnt respond… (ahem!) so i’ll just post the link here and see what happens. It’s a lot more photos than words, which is nice, since i cant seem to taper my blathering to an acceptable level and my photos tend to center around my own cute kids rather than the ones about the neighbourhood. http://madderinmada.blogspot.com/

Hotdog! and it seems as though the video i uploaded with no expectation of it going through has actually worked… or has it? Anyway, i’ll post it here – it’s nothing special, since i didnt think it would upload – just a moving snapshot of the boys eating beignet de banans (or however one would spell that) and Asher watching the road-side entertainment on our walk past the vendeurs yesterday afternoon. Let me know if you can/cant watch it please – ’cause that’ll influence if i post more vids in the future.

So… on Friday i was talking with Mme F about how i was a bit nervous about the idea of going downtown at night because after dark i hear the traffic up the road from us and it sounds – as my gardener said, “like a rally” – surely because the Route d’Ivato has been repaved (for that visit of the African Union that never happened because it was just then that the country took a serious nose dive) and now there is such a nice smooth road where cars can go as fast as they please with nothing to stop them – no potholes, no police, and no traffic during the night. She said to me not to worry because downtown was safe now that there were no longer demonstrations going on.

She obviously misunderstood me that day.

On Monday Mme F. asked me how my weekend had been celebrating my birthday and going downtown with Josh. I told her that i found the downtown so different at night because there weren’t any street vendors, no traffic… and she interrupted “at night?! You went downtown at night?!”  “But i thought you told me that it was safe now”, i reminded her. To which she replied that she had thought we were going downtown for lunch! “At night it is too dangerous”, she said, “that’s why there isnt any traffic or street vendors! There are pistols and sabres at night downtown,” she exclaimed. “Policemen rent out their uniforms and guns to some sort of gang who pull over cars and taxis and rob them!” Egad. And here i was so glad that she had told me that it was safe downtown these days because it alleviated my fears. Truth be told, i’m glad there was the misunderstanding before we went so that we could go oblivious to the dangers. Apparently the gardener shook his head when he heard this all and declared to Mme F, “The risks those Vazaha take!” The thing is, we simply are oblivious to what’s going on in this country for the most part. Surely those of us who are not working directly with the churches and amongst the Malagasy dont hear the news as quickly or as accurately as those who are. We dont read the Malagasy newspapers, although i did see Josh reading a paper at the “Aero Snack” lunch spot where he usually eats. Simply, we are living in somewhat of a cocoon in many respects… and i confess i probably have abetted this condition because i found it too disturbing before to hear of all the dodgy stuff that goes on in this city.

I just came home this morning from a coffee date with my friend Heather. We dont seem to see each other as often anymore, now that our boys are both in school and things have simply gotten busier… or something. Anyway, so we met at the Savanna Cafe, just up the hill and past the veggie market from our house. As i was walking there at 9am i passed by the turn off to where Heather lives and the Raphia restaurant where we take our Sunday lunches. I saw some people – women – hanging out there at the corner, some of them sitting in what is a guard house for the boom that blocks that road at night. They looked dressed to the nines… and it dawned on me quite suddenly that these must be prostitutes. There were 3 or 4 women there, a baby, and a 10-14 year old girl who was not as spiffily dressed. I walked on, heartsick. Mme F has told me that there are increasingly more prostitutes and young girls ‘working’ this side of town, away from the downtown area. It is undoubtedly because times continue to be rough because of the political situation and the subsequent sanctions and whatnotall. It’s so frustrating. Yesterday at the Beth Moore bible study some of the ladies shared their experiences working in Madagascar and the frustrations they are also feeling because it seems as though the country is moving backwards after a period of growth and development. Argh!

So, my first comment in this regard is: there’s a reason we never go out after dark. I go now weekly on Monday nights to a bible study group a few minutes away by truck. Last night i stopped en route to fill the truck up since Josh was going to drive the school run the next morning… sitting there at the gas station at 6:45, after dark, seeing all the taxi brusses with their 2 meter high roof rack loads, seeing the kids i usually see begging at the gas station still hanging out there… it was like a different world in many respects. I just dont see it much.

Secondly, is there something i could/should be doing right now in this place? I feel quite at a loss as to what to do or how to go about finding something to do. I mean, teaching English seems somewhat pithy when i walk by 4 prostitutes and a pre-teen working the ‘hood just up the street from my house at 9am! However, what can i do as a mom, as a non french, non malagasy (fluently) speaking person? as one who is afraid to venture out after dark? as one who doesnt really want to venture out too far into the ‘real’ world of Ivato (never mind downtown Tana!) because i’m afraid of the heart ache it will engender? I sense that God is trying to push me out of my comfort zone, but… ack! Anyway, your prayers are much appreciated in this respect.

Yesterday was my birthday. Only the second one i’ve celebrated in Madagascar… i think. Since we’ve moved here we seem to always take furlough over the month of September, which suites me just fine, but i reckon Josh is a bit jealous that he never gets to celebrate his birthday in Canada.

On friday my girl friends took me out for lunch at La Combava, a new and very quaint little restaurant on our side of town. I originally wanted to go to the Cafe de La Gare downtown, but in the end i texted Josh on his overnight to ask if that was perchance the place he wanted to take me on my actual birthday for a surprise… and it was. Shame. I always seem to spoil his surprises. (i did tell him that surprises for my birthday arent really unexpected, but… ) Anyway, so we had a lovely luncheon on the terrace at Combava and then in the evening we went to our South African friend’s place for dinner to eat roast lamb. He’d been talking about doing this for ages already and we finally pressured him into doing it.   It was divine! I made peanut butter cheese cake for us and that was also divine, if i do say so myself. I made a 1.5 recipe so that i could give a cake to share amongst the workers in our compound, my two ladies and the lady who works next door and the guard at the compound gate. and then the gardener the next day and the guard working Sunday afternoon. They were all quite delighted with it as they had never tasted anything like it before.

Saturday was pretty normal. We spent the day picking up bricks for the back yard, weeding the new grass, josh and judah went to another MAF family’s house to do some woodworking – repairing 2 of the 4 deck chairs. In the evening my good friend Heather came over to babysit and Josh and i went downtown to Le Cafe de la Gare for dinner. This ‘cafe’ is so totally different in atmosphere than anything you can find in Madagascar… i cant really explain why. Whatever the case, it’s lovely there and at night there is live piano music. We had caramelized pork, which was so nice and came in 10 minutes (we were prepared to wait an hour like at most french restaurants) and then i had what they called on the English menu “half baked chocolate…” something or other. It was lovely. We couldnt remember the last time we were downtown after dark, it felt quite novel indeed. I think the last time we went was a few months before we left for Nairobi, probably in 2008! Tana really is a different city after dark, the streets arent as clogged with street vendors, there’s a fraction of the traffic (it takes 15 minutes to get from our house to downtown rather than 1 hour!) but it is really dark. It reminded me that so many people in this country dont have electricity in their homes and why so many go to bed by 7pm. there’s really not much you can do if you cant see anything in the pitch blackness.

Yesterday Josh called to ask us to drop by the hangar so we could bring in something that the Canadian Fliers had asked to have fixed (or something like that). We drove in, Judah and i, and toured the office saying manahoano! to everyone. On our way out Josh told me that he had brought something home for me from his  overnight trip to Mananjari – it was some coastal ferns and plants! I tell you, i know one of my top love languages is gifts, but i’ve sort of given up on it as a viable language in our home because i suppose i’m so picky particular that i make it exceedingly difficult for Josh to hit the mark, as it were. But this! This was both unexpected and right up my alley and i was delighted. So, thanks Josh. I love them! (and you!)

Judah has been asking to take photos with my little red camera, so this is his attempt at a photo shoot.

One of the ferns was this ‘bumpy’ one that the ladies, the gardener and i all thought to be delightful. It’s got no roots with it, so we’re trying to coax some out by sitting it in water for a while. Look at the detailing, isnt God creative? It kind of reminds me of the facial details on some of the races on Star Trek… perhaps they got the idea from these plants.

   
Some other ‘good things’ recently have been my daily morning coffee that i top with a ‘decadent’ cap of frothed milk. That Ikea 2.50$ milk frother was a fantastic investment!! I took my morning coffee to class yesterday morning, since i slept poorly and then had to get up and at the day with more speed and vigor than usual because it was my turn to do the morning school run. I thus learned how to say, “Misotro kafe ve ianao?” (Drink coffee ‘question’ you?) and “Een, misotro kafe aho” (Yes, drink coffee i).

Yesterday i also cut a whole hand-full of Rosemary from the neighbour’s front garden, since she doesnt live there anymore and i love the smell. They are currently rooting in water… and filling the kitchen with their fragrance. The snapdragons are from Rhonda’s garden, and every day when Judah sees them he chastises me, “Did you pick those flowers from someone else’s garden?!” Since i tell him never to do that himself! Ha. I’m a poor example. Rhonda’s garden is currently abandoned since the gardener no longer works there. We are currently in discussions with the proprietor’s right hand lady about whether MAF can keep the house and pay a lower rate while it’s under repair. We learned yesterday that the discussions went well AND that they plan to replace all our draughty windows with aluminum ones that SEAL! (can you even imagine the luxury!) I smile to myself over this news because it means about half of Josh’s to-do items are stroked off the list in one fell swoop since many of our windows are in desperate need of screen repair, etc. We’re debating, however, whether we should ask for them to leave the living room french doors, since sliding glass doors have significantly less character and openability than the leaky ones we’ve got currently. Hm, Charm or Warmth… which would you rather have?

Rhonda’s old kitchen trolley, after a good sanding, is very at home in my kitchen these days. I love it. It’s just the right height for working on as opposed to the short tile counters i’ve got, and it’s on wheels which means it’ll also serve nicely as a drink/deck meal trolley and can be pushed out of the way when there’s too many cooks in the kitchen.

In other news, Mango season is coming. I may have mentioned it before…

We enjoyed mangoes yesterday for lunch when Josh was on his day off because he flew last Saturday. He’s now on an overnight (which i didnt register until just now when i called to ask him what to make for dinner and he reminded? me that he wasnt coming home until tomorrow. oopsies. that’s a bad indication that i’ve not been paying attention recently) and will be again next weekend for 3 nights. bah.

Another, what we thought to be, great and very challenging preach at church this last Sunday. I may have mentioned before that our pastor speaks with great courage and straight into strongholds within both the Malagasy culture and, i think, world culture as a whole. This last Sunday he spoke out on the topic of giving and receiving and cited some very disturbing news: On the World Giving Index where Australia and New Zealand topped the list for most generous in giving time, money, service, etc. Madagascar was ranked 153rd out of 153! People laughed! when they heard that! I am appalled… but not entirely surprised. Often i am told by my workers that life in Madagascar is difficult. To be sure, i am definitely not disagreeing with them. Especially since the Crisis the standard of living for the greater populace, those who make less than a dollar a day, is painfully low. But what i found interesting in the survey, and highlighted in Pastor Kim’s preach, was that even countries who shared difficult poverty conditions and also suffered war were, on the whole better givers than Madagascar who shares no borders with other countries and thus has no direct threats… (unless of course you count those countries robbing Madagascar of her natural resources, but that’s for another blog entry). The culture of Madagascar has proven itself to be one that looks out primarily for self-interest. For this reason most people, Christians included, think it’s ok to lie if it benefits you in some way. It’s a rough state of affairs here, to be sure… But i’m not sure what to think about the fact that Madagascar is in last place, especially after reading about the well-being index. Like Kim pointed out, the people in this country appear so happy! They laugh and smile a lot.

I would encourage you to take a look at that World Giving Index, there’s only 2 (sparsely printed) pages of explanation about the questions and method, and then many graphs and lists which i found fascinating. I would also recommend listening to the preach, (It’s called “Fighting Poverty”) because Kim can boldly put into words ideas that i a) cant say eloquently and b)am afraid to step on people’s toes. If you dont, that’s ok too (i guess ). Josh and i were both very challenged by the message and i came home wondering whether the people i’ve helped in this country have passed forward blessings to others or simply turned around to find someone else to ask for aid… I asked my lady this morning about it and she humbled me in a way i’ve not be humbled before. yeesh. That woman works harder than most people i know. I pay her the standing rate i’ve found among most missionaries, in fact, on the sliding scale of missionary employers i’ve found that we pay on the higher end… but it’s still difficult for her and her family. Regardless of her pay, however, she gives tithes to church and to those in her neighborhood who are in need. She gives of her time (the whole weekend when she’s finally able to spend time with her family!) to her church going to the bush to bring aid and the Good News to the very poor. And here i am trying to guard as much family time as possible because i feel my husband is spending increasing amounts of time at the hangar and at work.

One of the major ideas we took from the preach was also about being a receiver or being a giver. Do we position ourselves to receive or to give? Do we receive from God and let it stop there? Do we receive blessing from people and not pass them on to others? Like Mme F said, “You bless me and i bless others with what you have given me.” This is in marked contrast to some churches Josh has worked with in the bush who receive relatively large financial and material aid from International supporters… and then turn around and ask for more for another project. There are many, many stories and lessons, proverbs and instruction in the Bible that refer to money… and the danger that it can have in a person’s life if they choose to hold on to it rather than let it go freely. I tell you, volumes could continue to be written about this subject and i reckon the overabundance of thought in my own head on the topic – especially as i continue to observe many cultures interact here on this Great Island – is why i’ve got writers block. Hence the many words but not much said kind of blog this is turning out to be. Sorry.

I suppose it must suffice to say: the issue of giving, poverty, receiving/giving is one that is a challenging one to consider, and, if i may say so, more challenging as i live in this part of the world where the differences are staring me in the face on a daily basis.

Lord, please preserve me from pride. Today just now Mme I. told me that she thinks i’m learning Malagasy very quickly. Haha. I’m trying not to let it go to my head. I reckon perhaps she just hasnt been around someone learning Malagasy before and therefore any speed would look impressive.

Whatever the case, i’m taking her compliment as encouragement to keep going because i feel a strong battle over this language learning every evening before a lesson. It’s really silly because i tell my son every day before he goes to school not to be upset about going to school because every day when he comes home he says he’s had a great day. Similarly, once the lesson begins i am so enthralled by the knowledge that learning a language brings, the doors to a culture are flung open wider when one learns the language, to be sure! Today i learned that while many words in Malagasy are similar or exactly like the french words for the same object, some words – especially those related to learning/education – are similar to English:
boky (pronounced [sort of] book-ee)
pensily (pencil-ee)
penina
It is this way because in the history of Madagascar the English were the ones to come first to teach. Moreover, as the first English Missionaries came they collaborated with the king of Madagascar to establish the alphabet or, in Malagasy, the Abidia (ah-bee-dee) – so called because their alphabet starts with A-B-D (ah, bee, dee), like we call it the “ABC’s”  I thought that delightful. Did you know that the Malagasy ABD’s only have 21 letters, missing the “C” [as you could have deducted], “Q”, “U”, “W”, “X”. My tutor told me that this was because the king, in his wisdom, decided with the English Missionary working with him to establish the ABD’s that there was already a letter that made the “s” sound and the “k” sound, which made the letter “C” redundant. (ha! doesnt it indeed!). Similarly with “Q” and, because in Malagasy “O” is pronounced “oo” [as in touque] there is no need for “U”, etc.

Strangely (for me, probably because i havent learned much about that part of the history yet) the Ny andro amin’ ny herinandro (days of the week) are derived from Arabic. huh!

I also find it amusing that where Judah learned French from his nanny, Asher will definitely speak Malagasy before French… maybe even before English! His vocabulary already includes the word for “let’s go” and “no” (which sounds a lot like the sounds we make to get our babies to sleep: ‘ah-ah-ah’). Josh made a crack at the dinner table that Asher is ahead of me in Malagasy already. ha.

Today i learned, “Inona no dikan ‘ny “mangue” amin’ ny malagasy?” (how do you say “mango” in Malgasy?) So, at lunch Asher and i were practicing our new vocabulary: Minana mangue, minana aourt, minana totenomby, misotroa rano. (chortle, chortle… i feel so clever! )

Yesterday, while out with one of my besties at the market, there was a man selling… (wait for it!) Mangoes!! Yeehaw!! SO STOKED about Mango season!! They’re a bit small but they taste so delish! The fruit of the gods, i tell you!! By the time my family gets here they’ll be way bigger and the litchis will also be out (hopefully). Woot, Woot!!
I took this photo for Thom. i reckon he’ll know why.

…then Malagasy tires my tongue.

Yesterday i wrote a long blog about language and all sorts of genius things. But then i got distracted by watching Glee (our new series of choice) and the computer shut down before i had saved the writing. argh!

I’m exhausted just now. It’s 7pm and Asher is screaming in his bed because he was schleming downstairs. He’s too tired to sleep and too tired to stay up. Judah and Josh are reading and discussing the 7th chapter of Genesis as a bedtime story. Josh has instigated reading a chapter an evening.

Tomorrow morning my Malagasy tutor is arriving at 8:30 to start the lesson at my house. I’ve signed up for 2 mornings a week of language learning, 1.5 hours each session. Wednesday was my first lesson and i was very nervous about it before we got underway, but once we started writing down the phrases and talking about what this means and how to pronounce that i was reminded of how much i loved studying linguistics when i was a student at UW. Ah, phonetics, syntax and semantics, how i loved you! I came home from ‘class’ able to say (with minimal tongue tripping) most of the fifampianahabana. (ha, say that fast 2! times) I also was able to ask Mme I. whether “it works to come at 8:30 on friday” so that we could study without Asher about. (self-satisfied smile).

In a similar vein, i’ve been reading The Gift of Thanks by Margaret Visser and learned that,

I found this particularly interesting because many non-native English speakers assume that because of the absence of two forms of “you” (plural and singular) we have only adopted the informal/singular you and therefore are more rude than other cultures. The other interesting thing is that native English speakers, ourselves included, have made the same assumption and many times therefore translate the English “you” to the French “tu” or the German “du”, which is incorrect.

(isnt that fascinating? )

Judah is still having trouble going to school in the mornings. Somehow he always forgets that the day before he had a good time at school and wakes up the following morning whining to be allowed to stay home. I suppose that’s normal for many school kids, but i guess because of the heightened stressors that he has at his school we feel tempted to just throw in the towel at times and just let him go to English school… although then he’s starting all over again with making friends and getting used to a school system and environment. Prayers are still very welcome for his school and friend situation. An exciting thing coming up however is the boys club that friends of ours are starting for the 4-5 year old English speaking boys in our area. It’s based on a church boys and girls club program in the States, which has boys and girls together for this age and that level is called “Rainbows”. Judah has watched the neighbour girls all attend girls club and has been waiting for his turn to go to his own club for ages, but when Josh heard the name he was vehement that the name had to be changed. Ha. He said “Rainbows” is for girls, the boys club should rather be called something like… “Danger Boys”. heehee. Anyway, that program happens once a week on Monday afternoons.

Josh also mentioned having a regular team sports time per week to get Judah’s buddies together to play sports as a group thereby instilling team borne lessons. It’s a great idea, but Josh is WAY overbusy at work just now, which is a sore spot with me these days. I do understand, and have tried to adapt gracefully, to the increase of responsibility that Josh has these days now that he is Operations Manager and now that Matthew is gone. Josh is now the most senior International STaff at MAF Madagascar now and i reckon he feels that mantle a bit too heavily. My peeve comes mostly when he gets calls for flight related stuff outside work hours. It is my very biased opinion that especially other missionaries should recognize and respect the family time that Josh gets to spend at home when he’s not in the office or on flights or overnight trips. It feels as though he’s always on the phone now. Pray for me that i dont swipe his phone one of these nights and bury it in the back yard. Because he’s got what was formerly the Hockey Night in Canada theme song as his ring tone, which i thought was delightfully nostalgic when it first started playing in our house, i’m starting to subconsciously associate all things workaholic with Canada and Hockey. Not only does Josh feel personally responsible to make sure every caller gets the best possible deal with flights, but he’s also in charge of overseeing the airstrip resurfacing at Sahakevo – which has had some significant problems because both bobcats have broken down and they’re having difficulty finding parts. Bah. dont get me started.

anyway, off to bed at 7:30. It’s been a long day.

I dont have a picture or video yet, but just so you know, Asher took his first steps today (with Josh, he was VERY smug… i should have taken a photo of that smug smile to post on the blog. Haha). Josh is also smug because he wagered a few months ago that Asher would be walking by 9 and a half months and, voila, there it is.

Asher also took his first flip out of his crib today, landing on the floor with a loud thump. Ouch! I suppose it’s time to move to the bigger boy bed with the shorter railing so it’s not such a huge distance to the ground. I’m also planning to start training him to sleep in Judah’s room in preparation for when my family gets here and we need the space.

In other less exciting news, Asher has started waking up at night again, at 4:30 every night for the last 4 nights. He usually goes back to sleep if i get more milk and warm it up, but by the time i’ve done all that and got myself back to bed i cant fall back asleep, which means i’m a wreck for the rest of the day. Somehow i cant sleep during the day either, i reckon it’s because i’ve got too much stuff running through my head. Whatever the case, Josh and i today were both pretty bummed to be so exhausted on a Saturday when our to-do lists are so enormous. He said that we were having sympathy jet lag on behalf of the Slaubaughs, who are just now en route from Paris to Toronto. Yuck. Jet lag without the benefit of going somewhere nice, what a drag! (at least we didnt have to sit in the plane for 11+7 hours to get it though, i guess that’s a bonus).

It’s hard to believe that Judah and Larissa were both smaller than Asher is now when they each came to live in Madagascar. It hasnt really felt that long that we’ve lived beside these neighbours of ours… and now tomorrow Judah’ll get up in the morning and want to play with the girls and there wont be anyone there anymore. Moreover, i’ll have to actually be more intentional about having the ingredients i need for making meals at my own house because i wont be able to sms Rhonda to ask if she’s got what i need. Alas. No one to chat with randomly throughout the day and while we wait for our husbands to get home from the hangar anymore. Our biggest consolation though is that they’re from the same home country as us, which means there’s a good chance that one of these days they’ll hear a knocking at the door and it’ll be Judah again.

Shame.