the honeymoon might be over...lol.

September 9th, 2008

Today has been kind of a rough day. I spent most of the day being upset about things that in the long run don't matter, but today they mattered.

Beef #1: Bats.
I was awoken at 5am by fluttering in my house. I listened. definitely wings flapping and bouncing off my walls. But it was still pretty dark, too early for a baby bird to be awake (which I would have actually welcomed given the alternative...) Good thing my cellphone has a flashlight so I could see what was going on...oh woops, put on the glasses, yup confirmed: bat in trano (house). Naturally, I have no idea what you do about bats in houses...so I try ignore the problem and go back to sleep, but who the heck can sleep once you know there is a bat flying around your house?! Not me! So I'm laying in my bed, afraid to leave the confines and security of my mosquito net, when I vaguely remember one of Dr. Alain's omniscience sessions and something about bat being a big problem in houses.
I text him: “There's a bat in my house. what do I do? Whitney in Marovoay”
he responds: “hi. get out now. ask someone 2 take it outside n c how did it get in. Alain.”
1st. thanks for easing my fears Dr. Alain. get out now? really? so blunt. 2nd: nice use of txting abbrev! Mahay! (what you say to anyone who is good at anything or knows something, everyone says I'm “efa mahay malagasay” -already good at malagasy- I say I'm “mahay kely, mianatra foana” - a little good, always learning-...anyway I've digressed.)
So the bat has stopped flying around at this point; with Dr. Alain's encouragement, I muster up my courage and get out of bed throwing open my windows on my way to the door. It's like 5:45 at this point. I grab my keys to go to the bathroom and see Madame Soa, my neighbor and counterpart's wife. I don't know the word for bat in Malagasy, so I tell her there is a “biby kely amin'ny alina any tranoko” (small animal of the night in my house) and make a flapping motion with with my arms. She laughs. and says: “tsy maninona. Misy maro foana foana. tsy maninona. matory foana, indrindra any clase.” (it doesn't matter. there are lots, always. It doesn't matter, they are always sleeping. especially in the classrooms.) this is clearly not the response I'm looking for. So I go back to my house. it has moved. I get out my flashlight and search. no where to be found. maybe it flew out? i wish.
So I usually go for a walk about 5:30pm, get something I forgot for dinner or that needed to be refrigerated, chat with people, or just get out of the house since it's a little cooler; an hour later its dark, and I'm home. I turn on the light and the bat is there flying around in circles. Bonne chased the little thing around my house for a half and hour...and it wouldn't leave. so unfortunately it had to die. He and Soa had different ideas about the bat...he said, yes, let's get it out, their bad and bite people sometimes...Madame Soa kept saying, they are fine, and just sleep all the time. I told her I couldn't live with a bat. If I wanted a roommate I would find one I liked, most likely a cat, not a bat! I hope this isn't a usual problem...

Beef #2: Post Office.
You think the post office is inefficient in the US? you have no idea...I had a letter to mail today and needed it weighed to know the postage cost, so I went to the post office with my friend Mamphiava (Mom-pee-ave-a). When we arrived the man at the desk also said a package had arrived for me, have a seat. Yay! I put my basket down and gave him my letter to be weighed. He weighed it, calculated the price and handed it back to me with out putting the stamps on it. So I handed it back to him and said, “yes, please, I want to mail this.” We wait. Then there comes another man with a paper showing the calculated taxes to be paid for my package. I take it, look at it, fine. I calculate the cost of the letter and the taxes both and get my money out - efficiency is important to me. Then 2 other men come out, one holding the package, the other with a book. The man with the book comes to the window, pushes the book to me mumbles what needs to be filled out – it's very unclear; when I ask for clarification he mumbles some more and pads the book. I figure it out and realize like most things here it's a formality and no one really cares if its done right, just as long as something was done. Then the man wants the tax form back, which says customer copy on it. He reads it, mumbles, and then tells me to sign it, “where?” I ask. mumble mumble. I sign the bottom; then he takes it, looks at it for 10 seconds, then he gives it back. what? the other man is still standing there just holding my package, like he's holding it for ransom. I'm still holding my money, and I realize there is no window big enough to push my package through. it's been a good 30 minutes at this point and I have been the only customer in the Post Office. The first man wants me to pay for the letter, so I pay him the 1900ar, but now I have to wait for the manager of the office to get to his office, he is always away some where, so I can get my package. He mandrosoas us, he mipetraprahas us (come in, have a seat formalities), and acts like we just stopped by to chat about the weather. I'm clearly annoyed at this point. Its hot, i was woken up at 5am by a bat that may or may not still be in my house at this point, and I have been dealing with the pinnacle of inefficiency for over 30 minutes now and I am still the only customer to have entered the post office! (It's like this is the first freaking time there has ever been a package received here...which is not true! I saw that the Japanese volunteers have received many recently!) I tell him, as politely as I can at this point, that I am here, in his office, right now, because I would like to pay the taxes on my package so that I can go to the market and go home. goodness, gracious. He obliged me and didn't keep my much longer. Moral of the story. the Post Office will likely be my most loathed chore here...but the things inside my package made it all worth while! thanks mom! :D love you!
***update on the ridiculousness of the post office...
The next day at about noon, one of the men from the post office comes to my house accompanied by my neighbor Mampihava. She says that he is here to collect his “kado.”(gift) For the first 2 minutes I am honestly confused. She is telling me that I need to give him some $$ because he is the guy that makes sure people don't steal out of my packages. I play dumb because I am just so awe struck that this man has the audacity to arrive at my house, as I'm cooking lunch, to collect money under the table and call it a “gift.” I went a good 10 minutes pretending not to understand because I was just so pissed that this was actually happening. I kept saying, but I already payed the taxes at the office to the manager, you should get the $$ from him. “no, but you need to give him a gift.” why do I need to pay him as well. “no no no, its a gift.” She told me to give him like 1000ar, which is not much, but its the principle that a) its not a gift when you arrive at my house demanding a gift b) that i have to pay extra under the table to get all of the stuff people send me! (if some one had told me, you should give Mr. X 1000ar when you get your packages to make sure they arrive safely and completely I would have, but it was the circumstance of an uninvited stranger in my house demanding money that really pissed me off.)
So when I finally “understood” the situation, and it was clear that I was angry. I apologized and smiled really sweet and told him that in my country it was illegal for government workers to ask for, let alone just receive monetary gifts for the work the government pays them to do. And that is why I am upset that he is in my house, but I now understand the culture here and I appreciate him watching out for my packages. He apologized with the big apology phrase “miala tsiny” and not to be afraid...
Mainly he ruined my lunch, and most of my afternoon, and made me cry for the second time since getting to Madagascar. But getting over it...

Beef #3 (and final for the day): Ants.
Dear Ants,
Remember when I arrived I told you I didn't like you in my house? especially in my kitchen area? well I have maintained the white powdery boarder of ant killer in the places I could see you entering my house, yet you are finding new undetected ways to get in. Stop! find some one else to bother! I know that honey comb you broke into was delicious, but it was a gift from Kami! For me, not you! Additionally, I just find you annoying. I think you are gone, and then one slice into the pineapple and it's like you arrive in a line out of thin air. Stop! you are gross. and I have no issues you in drowning you and smashing you - so in an effort of self preservation, you should go elsewhere. Some volunteers even like their ants, just not me. Go live with Tara, she'll let you clean her jam jars and do clean up duty on other bugs she kills...
But as a warning dear ants, while I'm away in Mahajunga, I'll be dousing my house in ant killer hoping you'll be gone when I return...or least that I'll be able to sweep you out of my life!

fitiavana (love),
Whitney