"Still no friends?"

This blog title sounds depressing but I promise it’s a funny story. But first, I apologize for my seriously neglected blog as I’m still trying to figure out my internet situation. I should be able to post at least once per month from now on and I’ll post a few at a time. I’m going to date my posts for the date it was written rather than the date it was posted.

Anyway, I’ve already been at site for over a month now and things are going well. Not going to lie, the first few weeks were very tough when I had thoughts such as, ‘I’m never going to understand this language!’ ‘Can I really do sustainable work here?’ ‘Do they think I’m lazy or incompetent or will they take me seriously?’ These seem to be normal concerns while I’m finding my place in the community. However, when people sincerely thank me for coming to this village or to see how motivated my CHWs are to work with me or when kids call me by name instead of vazaha (foreigner), those negative thoughts are replaced by positive memories.

So my first big task as a volunteer is to complete a Community Diagnostic Survey (CDS) which I’ll then present it to Peace Corps in July and also to my CHWs and CSB staff. This entails me going to all my fokontany asking questions about health, education, environment, social issues, history, etc. I asked the community members to draw maps of the village, write their daily schedule, prioritize their needs in groups of men, women, and children then analyze the similarities and differences in their answers. I have six fokontany in my commune and it takes me about two weeks to go to all of them. In the mornings I work at the CSB. I help weigh and take the blood pressure of pregnant women waiting for their checkups with the midwife. I also write in the carnets and cartes which are small booklets and cards used for record keeping as again no computers, no electricity. I’ve started giving short presentations (called manentana in Malagasy-I’ve turned it into a n English verb: manentana-ing) to women and children while they wait to get vaccines each Thursday.

Even with this work, I have quite a bit of free time. My neighbors or people waiting at the CSB often come over and chat or just watch me cook (or read or work or write-they like to stare at me). My neighbor’s three year old daughter comes over every day around lunch and we chat although neither of us understands the other. Every morning I go to the market and have certain sellers that I chat with and buy my vegetables and fruits, rice or pasta, eggs, peanuts, or bread from (I’m now a known vegetarian at my site-seeing the meat hanging in the sun or having to kill my own chicken or duck isn’t appealing). The Malagasy find it incredulous that I don’t eat rice every day three times per day-they really love their rice.

So that’s my day-to-day life one and a half months into service. I’m working up to In-Service Training (IST) in July and I’ve been thinking about what sort of larger projects to work on once IST is done. Getting back to the title of this post-About three weeks into site, I was feeling good about my integration, I was recognizing people on the street, and I was hanging out with neighbors and leaving my house every day. Then twice in the same day people came up to me as I was walking on the street and then again when I was in my yard, “Mbola tsis namana?” (“You still don’t have friends?”) I thought, ‘what!? I have friends!’ The Malagasy are more straightforward with some things than Americans. I laughed the comments off and I’m confident that I’m leaving my house enough, working hard, and I do too have friends!

You know you’re a PCV when
-you replace English words with Malagasy words when you speak English. Ex. ‘I started manentana-ing with my rasazy (midwife) isan (every) Tuesday and Wednesday. She’s so mazoto (motivated).
-You can’t tell if you’re getting tanner or just really dirty.

Officially a PCV

I have survived my first week at site! In the PC books and blogs I read prior to joining, I noticed that many people wrote about that moment when the Peace Corps car drives away and you are the only American in your village. All I could think about in the moment was how hungry I was.

The last few weeks have been long—between final tests and presentations to swearing-in to moving into my new house. Swearing-in was very fun and had great food (I must officially be a volunteer because all I can talk about is food). It was held at the Ambassador’s residence, and even the Prime Minister attended. There were news reporters, cameras, and a pretty good sized audience. It was also wonderful to dress up and straighten my hair (and wear my dress and wedges for the only time during the next two years—seriously what was I thinking).

After an evening of celebration and goodbyes, the people in my region aka ‘Ladies of the Lake,’ and I (there are five of us total moving to the region to join three current education volunteers) loaded the car to the absolute max and drove the eight hours to Ambatondrazaka. In one day, I bought everything I needed for my new house including a lofted bed, table and chair, and two bookshelves (custom made in less than 24 hours). I was the first person to install in my site which terrified me because I couldn’t see anybody else go through the experience first. I moved on Saturday, April 26 and installation went exactly how I wanted it. I quietly slipped into the community without a big party so it wasn’t too overwhelming. The Peace Corps car and my friends left around 6:00pm and I enjoyed my first meal on my own of bread, tomato, and avocado. 

My house is small, and it reminds me of a one person dorm room with my lofted bed. I live on the CSB compound with four other families including the doctor and the guard. We also share the compound with a few families of chickens and geese that frequently wander into my yard. My house is on the end of a three house complex. My kitchen is a separate room in which I walk outside to get to. I have my own bathroom and shower (bucket bath room), and I’m surrounded by a fence. I have no running water or electricity and tend to go to bed around 7:30pm because it is so dark! My house definitely cozy, and now that I’ve finished cleaning, it’s starting to feel like home.

This last week has slowly ticked by as I’m not yet working. I’ve visited the market every day to ensure that I actually leave my house. I’ve introduced myself and my purpose countless times, and each time it gets a little easier. Language is rough overall though. I understand far less than I hoped. I can only ask people to repeat or speak slower so many times before I lie and say I understand. I usually get called out on this though. However, today I spent the afternoon with my neighbors who are nursing students and about my same age. We chatted about our families and boyfriends, and it was the first time that I have felt at ease in my community. I finally understood that language would come with time, and that it’s not always about what is said as it is how we interact and relate to one another. 

 This upcoming week is ‘Mother and Child Health’ week. I am working, i.e. observing at the CSB every day this week. I have a meeting with the CHWs on Friday where I hope to establish a schedule. At this point, I will be working at the CSB on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, and visiting the fokontany in the afternoons, although this could change after our meeting. 

You know you’re a PCV when:
-You phone is so primitive that you can’t even change the volume

-You have debates with other PCVs on whether you should filter, sur’eau, do both, or neither to your bucket bath water even though everyone attended the same informational session.