This being the 5th week of school here, I have still not received an official attendance form for any of my classes. There is not a single computer at my school so everything is still typed out on a type writer, what a long and tedious process!So last week I went to the office sat down with the book for each class and hand wrote out the names of all 356 of my students! It took 3 hours because people have names a mile long here! All of my life, people have commented what a long name I HAVE: Whitney Michelle Swander. That doesn't hold a candle to the names here! Let me tell you my hand was tired when I finished!
After I finished the last class, I was literally dizzy from reading the tiny cursive print of all those r's, z, m's, and k's...and because it's hot and despite my best efforts to continually guzzle water here, I'm always a little dehydrated. lol. Then, Bonne explained to me, that each Malagasy name is a saying and tells about the order of birth, the state of the family at the time of birth, hopes and desires for the person, etc. It's a really cool part of the culture and kind of hard for Westerners to wrap their minds around completely. Of course “vazaha” names have also infiltrated the culture here.
As an outsider looking in, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to how names are put together and there aren't “family” names like we have. I explained that my name is Whitney Michelle Swander, my parents choose the first two, but the final name is passed from the father. Women traditionally take their husbands last name when they marry, so my mother is Jan Swander. But some times both spouses use their own last names and they themselves or just their kids have hyphenated names...so simple. Here every family member has a completely unique “nom” (last name) and some have 1-5 “prenom” (first and middle, but that really isn't how they are classified here), and then some people just have a “nom.” Here is a sampling of students namesL
RANOMENJANAHARY Sitrakinianiania Jean Zuetienne (he goes by Sitrika)
RAZANAKOTO Sendraviavaka Pirisoa Fandeferana (she goes by Miavaka)
RAFARA Malala Fetra Nemenjanohary Yvette (goes by Nekena)
RAKOTOMAMPIONONJANAHARX Romuladon Jean Patri (he goes by Romulado)
RANDRIANA Goulam Aly Amine Florida Gildas (he goes by Gildas)
KOTO Rufin Robert (he goes by Ruphin)
Rahelisoa Olive (he goes by Alive)
ANISOA Miaraly (she goes by Anisoa)
VELONJARA (that's it)
Names are basically like “where's waldo!” and honestly a little daugnting to me. And proununciation, even with my best effort I still suck. I'm trying so hard, but the Malagasy names just have so many consonants or repeated sounds...but I am getting better. I love the student's with “French” names: Angela, Synthia, Jean Serge...I can do that! Some names are just amazingly creative and I wish we had parent conferences to ask the inspirations of names like: Baldy, Bienvenue, Boga, Bosco, Frankenstinos, Jhons, La LaHonore, Sebastien, Willy, T Van Lendel, Vanilla, Zoachin, Zozo, just to name a few...
Here are some of the names I'm still struggling with pronouncing, there is emphasis in unnatural places too: Nambinina, Tsiory, Miasason, Mihevitsoa (this is like 4 out of 150 names I suck at saying. but I'm trying so hard. I practice before class, honestly!)
Friday, October 24, 2008
IT'S MANGO SEASON!!!!
About a month ago, delicious, juicy fruit began falling almost, i dare say, like a nuisance, from the trees of Marovoay. Now that mango season is deep upon us I look around and see that almost every tree in this town is a mango tree! First came the manga manta (unripe mangos). They were everywhere in the market and kept thinking, leave them on the trees so get sweet and delicious! Are you crazy! (I generally call someone crazy in my internal monologue here daily.) But then I soon learned the joy of the manga manta. 1st you can just eat the manga manta as it is. Peel it, slice it up; tt's not sour, but not super sweet yet and it's crisp. Yum. the closest thing I have to an apple since I left the states! (I really miss apples!) 2nd, manga manta lasary. Grate the mango with a little onion, sakay (fresh chile), vinegar, salt and pepper. Amazing. I love it with fish!
Then the mangoes started to ripen...I learned that mangoes I've been eating unripe are called, Manga Yes, they are the first to ripen and not the best of all the mangoes here. But they are here in plenty so eat up! Next came the Manga Diego. I really liked these guys. Their smaller, and bright orange with one pink tip and one green tip, they taste a little different, and their not so fiberous. Then just this last week the Manga Rano started to ripen. These are officially my favorite (so far, apparently these mangoes are just beginning! and they last through February, lucky me!). They are small, about the size of a lemon, and range from yellow to green in color. There is not a lot of fruit to them, but they have a “tutti-frutti” taste. I can't quite pinpoint what they taste like, but I really like it! Even better, there is a tree in my back yard, you I've been collecting a few each day! I'm told they are especially good in January when the rain starts, that's when they really get ripe. Rano means water, so I'll have to see how the rain changes them! But right now I love them cause they are a perfect little snack.
In the mean time I've been trying slowing up my consumption slightly...I found out just this week that the mangoes last through February. I have been eating mangoes like it's going out of style thinking that it would all be done in the blink of an eye and I'd be back to just bananas. My digestive system thanks me for this. I was kind of on fruit overload if you know what I mean...oh and did I mention guavas are in season too. wow. These are like little seedy pieces of heaven in your mouth. I buy them for about a penny a piece when i can find them in the market; and when they are in my house I have to put a daily limit on myself cause I could eat about 10 in a sitting and then there would be trouble in the tummy!
I've also been cooking with mangoes a lot. Peace Corps says you can eat well and live cheaply is you eat whats in season. We all wondered, well how do you know what's in season? Isn't there a chart or something you could give us? I learned quickly you go to the market and look around and see what EVERYONE, and their mother, sister, and aunts are selling. Recently, that's been a lot of mangos, eggplants, tomatoes, green peppers, and sweet potatoes. My current favorite meals: mango curry shrimp sauce over rice. mango eggplant masala, mashed sweet potatoes with a little cinnamon and nutmeg, left over rice heated up with mangos, cinammon, and a little vanilla, and sweet and spicy mango salsa with fresh made (by me!) tortillas.
Don't you worry I'm not starving in Africa! However, some of my neighbors did notice that I have lost a little weight and we had to talk about what I eat. Basically they told me I don't eat enough rice, and that if I want to be matanzaka (strong) I need to eat more rice. I told them, I ate too much rice during training and it didn't make me strong, just made me fat. To this they say, how great it is to be fat! This is a continual conversation in my life here. When I leave my house and go to the market everyone asks: “Miantsena?” (going to the market?) I reply yes, and they respond “Handeha matavy!” (get fat!) They say it like a benediction, like “get well!” “drive safe” or here, “get fat!” Being overweight here, and for most people were talking a few pounds over, is a sign of being well fed and comfortable financially. If I told people I eat the way I do to maintain my weight, they would just be confused. Why would you want to stay thin when you have the means to be fatter? Oh dear.
Next cultural note...being called fat, EVERYDAY. I generally get called “vazaha be,” (big white person, it could refer to height...but people think I'm fat, so I'm going to say the “be” refers to weight) or “geza” (just, fat). I asked around and there is no word for curvy or voluptuous women in Malagasy. You are just fat or skinny. I've tried to explain that in my culture there are many women who are not fat, but curvy and that this is desirable and sexy. I am met mainly with stares asking, why if you are fat would you not want to be called fat? It's complimenting the lifestyle you work hard for! And of course “fat” women are more desirable, it means they come from families with money and they are well suited to carry children. Ha ha ha. Oh cultural differences. I've asked people not to call me fat, because I am not. My close friends and neighbors generally get it, but most people just seem confused that a word, like fat, which is good here, can make me upset. I've added another phrase to the daily conversation on the way to the market. When people say “handeha matavy!” I respond, “ungamba...”(maybe) and I wink at them. They laugh...it makes me feel better about the situation.
Then the mangoes started to ripen...I learned that mangoes I've been eating unripe are called, Manga Yes, they are the first to ripen and not the best of all the mangoes here. But they are here in plenty so eat up! Next came the Manga Diego. I really liked these guys. Their smaller, and bright orange with one pink tip and one green tip, they taste a little different, and their not so fiberous. Then just this last week the Manga Rano started to ripen. These are officially my favorite (so far, apparently these mangoes are just beginning! and they last through February, lucky me!). They are small, about the size of a lemon, and range from yellow to green in color. There is not a lot of fruit to them, but they have a “tutti-frutti” taste. I can't quite pinpoint what they taste like, but I really like it! Even better, there is a tree in my back yard, you I've been collecting a few each day! I'm told they are especially good in January when the rain starts, that's when they really get ripe. Rano means water, so I'll have to see how the rain changes them! But right now I love them cause they are a perfect little snack.
In the mean time I've been trying slowing up my consumption slightly...I found out just this week that the mangoes last through February. I have been eating mangoes like it's going out of style thinking that it would all be done in the blink of an eye and I'd be back to just bananas. My digestive system thanks me for this. I was kind of on fruit overload if you know what I mean...oh and did I mention guavas are in season too. wow. These are like little seedy pieces of heaven in your mouth. I buy them for about a penny a piece when i can find them in the market; and when they are in my house I have to put a daily limit on myself cause I could eat about 10 in a sitting and then there would be trouble in the tummy!
I've also been cooking with mangoes a lot. Peace Corps says you can eat well and live cheaply is you eat whats in season. We all wondered, well how do you know what's in season? Isn't there a chart or something you could give us? I learned quickly you go to the market and look around and see what EVERYONE, and their mother, sister, and aunts are selling. Recently, that's been a lot of mangos, eggplants, tomatoes, green peppers, and sweet potatoes. My current favorite meals: mango curry shrimp sauce over rice. mango eggplant masala, mashed sweet potatoes with a little cinnamon and nutmeg, left over rice heated up with mangos, cinammon, and a little vanilla, and sweet and spicy mango salsa with fresh made (by me!) tortillas.
Don't you worry I'm not starving in Africa! However, some of my neighbors did notice that I have lost a little weight and we had to talk about what I eat. Basically they told me I don't eat enough rice, and that if I want to be matanzaka (strong) I need to eat more rice. I told them, I ate too much rice during training and it didn't make me strong, just made me fat. To this they say, how great it is to be fat! This is a continual conversation in my life here. When I leave my house and go to the market everyone asks: “Miantsena?” (going to the market?) I reply yes, and they respond “Handeha matavy!” (get fat!) They say it like a benediction, like “get well!” “drive safe” or here, “get fat!” Being overweight here, and for most people were talking a few pounds over, is a sign of being well fed and comfortable financially. If I told people I eat the way I do to maintain my weight, they would just be confused. Why would you want to stay thin when you have the means to be fatter? Oh dear.
Next cultural note...being called fat, EVERYDAY. I generally get called “vazaha be,” (big white person, it could refer to height...but people think I'm fat, so I'm going to say the “be” refers to weight) or “geza” (just, fat). I asked around and there is no word for curvy or voluptuous women in Malagasy. You are just fat or skinny. I've tried to explain that in my culture there are many women who are not fat, but curvy and that this is desirable and sexy. I am met mainly with stares asking, why if you are fat would you not want to be called fat? It's complimenting the lifestyle you work hard for! And of course “fat” women are more desirable, it means they come from families with money and they are well suited to carry children. Ha ha ha. Oh cultural differences. I've asked people not to call me fat, because I am not. My close friends and neighbors generally get it, but most people just seem confused that a word, like fat, which is good here, can make me upset. I've added another phrase to the daily conversation on the way to the market. When people say “handeha matavy!” I respond, “ungamba...”(maybe) and I wink at them. They laugh...it makes me feel better about the situation.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Malagasy Partay! Famadihana! celebrating and remembering dead family members
My solar cooker, cooking chickpeas this day. Drying rack making manga pitika, dried mangos!
Question: how many malagasy men does it take to change a flat tire? 8 when the jack is broken! they lifted the van onto the jack...oh developing nations!
Pics!
more pics: me with the lovely valley of rice paddies behind my house, the beach in Katsepy, Me on the ferry ride headed home to Marovoay, how dirty my feet are at the end of the day here. gross!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Sept 22, 2008
Today was the “1st day of school” here in Madagascar, and what should have been the most exciting and fulfilling day for my service thus far, was anti-climactic to say the least.
I had been badgering Bonne, the director adjoint of the CEG, for my schedule for the past week and a half. Friday he told me that when it was done he would bring it to my house (remember he is also my neighbor and we all live and work at the CEG). Sunday evening still no schedule and he had been in his office all weekend working, I was afraid to ask. I went to bed thinking, is there school tomorrow, or is there not? hmmm.
School starts at 6am here in Marovoay. So got up at 5:30am (I'm usually already awake, just laying in bed waiting for the sun to come up a bit more. oh how my life has changed.) None of my neighbors are stirring at this point...maybe no school? ugh. I go about my morning business, sweeping, straightening up, making breakfast, and see Bonne, he has news: meeting with the students at 8am. HAZAH! Education will begin today for Malagasy students in Marovoay. I get dressed, do my hair, even put a little mascara on. Whoa! Big day! And at 8am (its Gasy time so I know we won't actually start until almost 9) I gather my lesson plans, notebooks, my activity supplies, h2o, a snack, camera, and a pen and pencil in my new basket that I bought in mahajunga and head out to the courtyard. There is a gaggle of students dressed in their blue uniform blouses, and some teachers standing around. At about 8:45, the assistant principle gets the kids into formation, and they raise the flag, do some military-like drills to commands, and sing the national anthem. After that, Bonne introduced all the new teachers, including myself. I stood up on half a steel, barrel drum thing and the kids cheered. It's chessey, but was a really happy moment for me and felt really included in the school culture.
And then it all went wrong...the PC gives a book called “the First Days of School,” and it is about how to be a professional educator; approaching teaching through attitudes and empowerment to be successful. Most of the rhetoric of the book is putting the burden on the teachers outlook, saying students are only as prepared and motivated as their teacher; also fostering positive behavior and learning through a positive, cohesive classroom structure; it all makes a lot of sense. Any way, the next part of the day's proceeding involve Bonne climbing onto the 'pedestal' and saying that “today we begin studying, the EPP (elementary) and Lycee (HS) are “kamo” (lazy) and not prepared to being classes today.” The students cheer at this point. and then, he goes into a speech berating the students for their poor performance on the BEPC (HS entrance exam) in July. Keep in mind the only students present who took the test of the 2000 kids there are the 3eme students are are repeating the grade. And then tells them to study, study, study. Not the positive perspective on education that the “first days of school” talks about...
From here, students are assigned to classrooms to clean and organize themselves and the teachers file into another classroom. The director speaks for about 15 minutes... 1) I can't hear what he is saying over all the student chatter, and 2) I never really understand when he talks... I sit and watch him politely. Next, Bonne talkes for another 20, and he passes out each sections schedules and the teachers pass them around frantically, jotting down what days and what hours they are teaching. Then they head off to classrooms to give students their weekly schedules...At this point, my head is spinning and I have no idea what is happening. Luckly, Bonne hands me my own hand-written schedule, I teach 6 sections of 5eme, like 7th grade which is the PC max for our first year. Ah. relief. I stand around awaiting further instructions, like classroom #s...then he tells me we are done for the day.
What!? It's just past 10am I am done for the day!? No. I've got a basket full of educational goodies and a schedule that says I teach on mondays! I'm ready. Let's go. I was basically shooed away. So that was that. I walked across the schoolyard and to my house, changed and thought, I might as well go to the market...so I did. ugh. FRUSTRATING!
Today was the “1st day of school” here in Madagascar, and what should have been the most exciting and fulfilling day for my service thus far, was anti-climactic to say the least.
I had been badgering Bonne, the director adjoint of the CEG, for my schedule for the past week and a half. Friday he told me that when it was done he would bring it to my house (remember he is also my neighbor and we all live and work at the CEG). Sunday evening still no schedule and he had been in his office all weekend working, I was afraid to ask. I went to bed thinking, is there school tomorrow, or is there not? hmmm.
School starts at 6am here in Marovoay. So got up at 5:30am (I'm usually already awake, just laying in bed waiting for the sun to come up a bit more. oh how my life has changed.) None of my neighbors are stirring at this point...maybe no school? ugh. I go about my morning business, sweeping, straightening up, making breakfast, and see Bonne, he has news: meeting with the students at 8am. HAZAH! Education will begin today for Malagasy students in Marovoay. I get dressed, do my hair, even put a little mascara on. Whoa! Big day! And at 8am (its Gasy time so I know we won't actually start until almost 9) I gather my lesson plans, notebooks, my activity supplies, h2o, a snack, camera, and a pen and pencil in my new basket that I bought in mahajunga and head out to the courtyard. There is a gaggle of students dressed in their blue uniform blouses, and some teachers standing around. At about 8:45, the assistant principle gets the kids into formation, and they raise the flag, do some military-like drills to commands, and sing the national anthem. After that, Bonne introduced all the new teachers, including myself. I stood up on half a steel, barrel drum thing and the kids cheered. It's chessey, but was a really happy moment for me and felt really included in the school culture.
And then it all went wrong...the PC gives a book called “the First Days of School,” and it is about how to be a professional educator; approaching teaching through attitudes and empowerment to be successful. Most of the rhetoric of the book is putting the burden on the teachers outlook, saying students are only as prepared and motivated as their teacher; also fostering positive behavior and learning through a positive, cohesive classroom structure; it all makes a lot of sense. Any way, the next part of the day's proceeding involve Bonne climbing onto the 'pedestal' and saying that “today we begin studying, the EPP (elementary) and Lycee (HS) are “kamo” (lazy) and not prepared to being classes today.” The students cheer at this point. and then, he goes into a speech berating the students for their poor performance on the BEPC (HS entrance exam) in July. Keep in mind the only students present who took the test of the 2000 kids there are the 3eme students are are repeating the grade. And then tells them to study, study, study. Not the positive perspective on education that the “first days of school” talks about...
From here, students are assigned to classrooms to clean and organize themselves and the teachers file into another classroom. The director speaks for about 15 minutes... 1) I can't hear what he is saying over all the student chatter, and 2) I never really understand when he talks... I sit and watch him politely. Next, Bonne talkes for another 20, and he passes out each sections schedules and the teachers pass them around frantically, jotting down what days and what hours they are teaching. Then they head off to classrooms to give students their weekly schedules...At this point, my head is spinning and I have no idea what is happening. Luckly, Bonne hands me my own hand-written schedule, I teach 6 sections of 5eme, like 7th grade which is the PC max for our first year. Ah. relief. I stand around awaiting further instructions, like classroom #s...then he tells me we are done for the day.
What!? It's just past 10am I am done for the day!? No. I've got a basket full of educational goodies and a schedule that says I teach on mondays! I'm ready. Let's go. I was basically shooed away. So that was that. I walked across the schoolyard and to my house, changed and thought, I might as well go to the market...so I did. ugh. FRUSTRATING!
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