Training Take 2

Being a veteran trainee does not mean that you are immune to your little brother picking his nose and immediately touching you or being subject to the weekly family commitments on your day and a half off from “school”. My family is huge and I keep finding out about more of them. To date the count is 7 siblings (4 girls and 3 boys). The youngest (the nose picker) is one of my favorites. His name, Bienviene, means welcome in French. He was the accident that caused my host parents to get married. At age four he is so resilient which I learned as I tossed him over my head, held him playfully over the balcony or just tried out my Malagasy on him always resulting in the same response, a big belly chuckle.

Through the family obligations, I am quickly learning the culture. Last week, I went to a 2 Sundays before Easter celebration but it was really just a bunch of kids screaming songs into a microphone with interestingly choreographed dances. This weeks culture lessons were much more challenging. My host mom’s uncle passed away on Saturday evening. I visited him only hours before he passed on. I now completely know what people mean when they speak of the death rattle. The following day I went with the family to present my condolences and a small amount of money. Luckily, we just had a culture lesson about ceremonies so I was not completely shocked to see the deceased man lying in his bed completely clothed with a mosquito net around his head. Later that evening, we walked into his room again to the joyous singing of over 100 people sitting “indian style” or anyway they could fit into the room. It was one of the more moving experiences I have had in Madagascar. I went with my entire family including a sister that I did not know that I had that came in from the capital earlier that day. They stayed the entire night singing and giving speeches praising and reminiscing about his life. I politely bowed out after a few hours of trying to sing songs from the hymnal in Malagasy.

On a lighter note, I entered the big scary Walmart-esque store in the capital. As the PC car rolled into the parking lot my mouth dropped open. I was faced with a huge children’s merry-go-round complete with bright colors, spinning motions and music. Quickly diverting my eyes and closing my gapping mouth, I confidently strutted into the store. A quick shriek left my mouth as I passed through the entrance and was faced with more items that I have seen in one store much less one town in over a year. Books in English, televisions, rows and rows of food. I stopped counting after realizing there were over 13 different types of bottled water. I was also paralyzed by indecision after perusing the aisles attempting to find yogurt and finding a whole aisle dedicated to yogurt. Somehow, I managed to gather myself enough to buy some food for dinner and breakfast and get the heck out of there.

Training is quickly winding down for me. I will be going to my hot humid site on the northwest coast in a matter of weeks. I will be living in “temporary housing” for a bit…a room in the office. The office might be moving to Diego so I might be moving with it after 3 months. I think fate has sent me to live in the office since I have been an unproductive Peace Corps volunteer for the last 4 months.