A trip to Madagascar, the 4th largest island in the world, always begins in the capital of Antanarivo-also known as Tana. Streets are packed and my senses are bombarded as I make my way through a tangle of humans and traffic. Exhaust fumes nestle into the permanent smell of urine as I dodge cars and keep my eyes open for gaping holes in the sidewalk filled with remnants of "you name it". Determined boys struggle uphill, heads down, pulling wooden carts filled with lumber. A man walks with determination-the head of a zebu rests on his. A woman's size pales in comparison to the bundle of straw she carries. Pousse-pousse drivers-human rickshaws of strength dart as quickly as they can with traffic, and men carrying buckets of charcoal hung over bamboo walk with a rhythm; the tempo set by the flexing of their load.
I'm overwhelmed with emotion as I walk. There are times when I'm whacked in the face with what I'm seeing and experiencing and those days certainly happen in Tana. Sidewalks double as bedrooms and playgrounds for many and I find myself choking back tears as begging eyes meet mine.
We head out on the bus where large hills tumble into ricefields-the road lying on the edge as we wind our way for 8 long hours-slowing to pass men pulling carts and I admire the gentle views of women doing their laundry on riverbanks surrounded by color laying out to dry on the rocks. Our driver overtakes trucks with centimeters to spare and I feel I'm the only one flinching! One of the members of the group is QUITE sick and the size of the bus seems to shrink as we wind our way to our final destination. The violence that he manages to deposit into a see-through bag is carried around by him as if it were a bag of bananas....I can laugh at it now.
Almost every night consists of a night hike as we search for lemurs-a group of primates whose name means "before monkeys", as well as any other unusual creatures we can find. Leaf tailed geckos lie still on Eucalyptus trees; its splotchy peelable bark being the perfect "open hideout" for these creatures (my favorite) unique to Madagascar. It would be fun to see an aye-aye, although chances are slim. This is a primate that is a cross between Yoda and a gargoyle, with fingers like Edward Scissorshands. As it searches for grubs, it taps on the wood with its finger and its 'Yoda-esque' ears point like radar dishes to detect its delicious dinner through the tree.
I'm able to use my mask and snorkel I have been dragging all over the place. It's easy for my imagination to run wild as I snorkel in the Indian Ocean, as my dad reminded me that there are scary creatures that lurk in its depths...and no other. My hope is to see a coelocanth, but that will never happen. Our first snorkeling venture brings many small jellyfish stings that seem to increase with my distance from shore. Their barbs seem to have a delay and they continue to sting even when I am back on the beach. My second venture is a bit less painful and I am lucky enough to find an octopus hunkered down under a rock. We take turns swimming down for a closer look as it nestles deeper.
Our bus to the airport flexes with each pothole-a man sitting on the floor in the back of the bus holds the doors that sing a song of grating metal as they slide past each other a good 8 inches with each dip. We arrive at the 'airport', walk through the group of chickens, and are quite a fascination to a group of about 15 kids. A friend and I walk outside the simple building and decide to entertain them with one of those silly, yet fun, 'clap your hands together with your friend and sing a song' games. Miraculously, I actually remember the words to "Say, Say Oh Playmate" and we draw quite a little audience with our silly game. We move into the airport and they follow. I decide to play it with them and it is with great response. We show them the game and make a circle so more can join in. They take turns being our partners and smiles light up faces. As we depart from the airport "lounge", the kids are still clapping away with a rhythm that I hope brings them joy in the days to come.
