We've got malaria

Madagascar isn't really known for having many cases in HIV/AIDS but we do have all four types of plasmodial species of malaria infecting all humans all over the country.

It is highly unusual in other countries affected by malaria to find all four species in the same region but in Madagascar it is quite common. 

We have it for sure. I've seen it first hand. I've given the rapid diagnostic test in my own home ending in positive (or what I like to call actual negative results). I'll be sitting with the doctor during consultations and people don't even know they have it and whelp, we've got ourselves another positive test result. 

Positive

However, some things are a little misinterpreted about malaria here. 

Through surveys, home visits and discussions with doctors many Malagasy people have some misconceptions regarding malaria and how they become infected. 

Some Malagasy people believe they get malaria by eating fruit. This is not such an outrageous claim. During and shortly after the rainy season many people have malaria. With rain comes much growth and fruit production. With rain and puddles near homes, comes mosquitos. And so, fruit brings malaria. When really, it's those f'ing mosquitos.

Some Malagasy believe that if you sleep under a bed net each night, you will never get malaria. People in my village are shocked when they see me scratching a bite because they know I sleep under a net. But they don't know which mosquito brings about the parasite. Which is the Anopheles (in Greek means "good-for-nothing"or "useless" -ha), for those of you who don't know. They are the larger female Mosquitos that hang around in the upper walls of households. Are quite active during dusk and dawn and in fact do NOT make the annoying buzzing sound that we often familiarize mosquitoes with. So just because I have an itch, does not mean I have been bitten by the beast that brings malaria. Although, I hate all mosquitos whether it brings malaria or an itch alone. 

Uhhh, here's a photo, kind of interesting...although way over my head.

So, I (and other volunteers) go around and educate others (as I hope to be doing now) about malaria, the disease that is preventable and 100% curable. We tell people what brings malaria, the symptoms, the tests, the medicine, the preventable actions they can take, such as going indoors at dusk, sleeping under mosquito nets and planting tomatoes near doors and windows (mosquitos don't like tomatoes). 

But at times, I think Malagasy are fully aware of the symptoms and when they know they have it they go to the doctor for medicine. They don't necessarily go the "preventative route" as much as the "cure it route". So, we're working on that here.

Over 200 people tested positive in my village alone in January. It's hard to keep records of but 15 people in my district died in the same month. That's not a number I like to hear, especially when malaria is completely curable. 

We've had such poor reports of malaria that a doctor from the capital has come to talk with the communities. 

As Peace Corps' Volunteers we are given malaria prophylaxis that we take everyday during our service. Although Volunteers too get malaria from time to time. 

So in April, the PCVs in my region are hosting a huge parade an event focusing on malaria! Photos to come! 

Malaria day is April 25 for all of you that don't know! 

Hand sanitizer, the new craze

But seriously. The kids love it.  Hand sanitizer is where it is at! Unscented has them screaming that it smells wonderful- hey kids that's the smell of isopropyl alcohol killing germs! Stored in my house, at an average temperature of a little less than it is advised to stay below, about 104 degrees Fahrenheit and the kids are screaming that it's so cool on their hands! Hey kids, that's the magic of placing liquid on your hands (not dirt) that kills germs!

There are people coming over thinking it's the coolest thing (not talking about temperature now)! 

It's all in the power of a pump! A pump of hand sanitizer for people that wash their hands on average 4 times a week! We're fighting against disease just by a little pump! 

People in the United States- Please send more! Because hey, this has got to be one of the healthiest crazes in this country/world! 

Thanks!

The vision I had imagined

I'm not sure about other people but ever since I was a kid I imagined how things would look before I actually went there and saw it. It started with my friend's houses as a kid. How it would look, how many rooms, was there a pool?

Then there were other things like new schools (college!), theme parks, vacations, new houses we would make into homes. The more I moved the more I imagined other places that I thought I might like. And heck, with this habit of mine of imagining places before going there, why not imagine the best? (Imagining something terrible doesn't really get me jazzed about going there).

But that often left me slightly disappointed... The actual place and reality being slightly below par of my imagination. And yes, many people have told me to stop doing this but I can't help it! 

Before I moved to Madagascar I imagined rainforests and interesting animals and true "African living" (I still have never seen the Madagascar movies, so they didn't contribute to my imagination). 

I imagined and envisioned this beautiful and delicate environment. Where it was so authentic and real and undisturbed by "luxuries" and big buildings and concrete streets. So, the opposite of what I experienced in the US and how I was raised.

Madagascar is the first place that I have been in my entire life that has stopped me in my tracks, as I'm biking down a dirt road with trees hanging over me and made me think, this is very similar to what I had envisioned it to be. Not to say that every where else was garbage compared to my imagination but I was pretty surprised how well "imagined Madagascar" leveled up to actual Madagascar.

I was quietly biking along on a terrible dirt road, still untouched by man and his concrete. I came along women wearing brightly colored cloth with baskets on their heads and babies on their backs.

With coconut trees and other foliage in the background as omby effortlessly graze. With the river on my right, handmade canoes float past me with a friendly wave from the people inside. 

It was quiet other than birds chirping. 

(*sidenote so that I don't come off as completely oblivious and overly optimistic, I will say that not every road in Mada is dirt and quiet. Not everywhere is rainforest and interesting creatures.)

Coming here two years ago was an easy decision. Staying here for two years was a little bit harder, but I truly do love this country. I won the Peace Corps lottery by being assigned here. (Shout out -Happy Peace Corps week!!!) With all it's flaws, it's gorgeous and even though I'm leaving it soon I know I will come back one day. Because being on an empty road in complete silence in a foreign country made me feel at ease. I felt comfort. I felt a warmth for this country. I felt beauty. I felt like crying. 

"Such a moment does not require less but rather more imagination. For to imagine is not simply to see what does not yet exist or what one wants to exist. It is also a profound act of creativity to see what is." 

I wrote this blog on my phone so, pictures to come soon! 

The road I've never been down

On some random afternoon I was feeling quite energized and my program in the elementary school was cancelled so I decided to go down a road I've never been down.

This is the beginning of the dirt road I biked down. 

As I was biking, a few people were suspicious of me. Wondering where I was going, wondering where I even came from. I might as well been the only white foreigner to wander into this neck of the woods. I thought that was a possibility until... I saw... this.... 

An old beautifully constructed Catholic Church in the middle of nowhere alongside a dirt road... I'm not saying foreigners built this but this building has more foundation and money put into it then all the schools in my village combined, I'm only hinting at it. 

So, I stopped. Chatted with these people

... And then I kept on going. I went through grass, through sand, through mud. I kept going when the road faded a bit only to find more people trekking too. So I went and found more beautifully and this time newly built structures. 

Bad picture but this is an elementary school in the middle of rice fields! All i could think was How? ...Why? When? Wait... What!! It was SO nice! It had doors, it had windows and locks for God's sake! Freshly-painted-well-built-shining-as-if-the-gods-just-placed-it-there school in the middle of nowhere. 

So, I kept going. I stopped and bought a coconut and sipped out of it while chatting. Bought some bananas and had a conversation about my geographical location and how I truly was in the middle of nowhere. Because, as I was going EAST, the direction towards the ocean, the ocean was unreachable. According to these people. I asked why? How could that be? There's a road and I'm going alongside the river, eventually there must be the ocean. 

A kind man offered me his lakana (hand made canoe) in exchange for my new bicycle in order for me to make it to the beach...

So, I kept going. I didn't particularly like that exchange. Maybe next time. 

What'd I see after those wonderful buildings and friendly folk? Not much. A heck of a lot of cows, rice fields, canoes, and people selling bananas on the side of this road, that was becoming less and less of an actual road. I was ten kilometers down this road I've never been. It still held so much mystery to me, I had to see more. But then... 

I went until my foot got stuck in mud and when I tried pulling myself out of this pit my expensive Malagasy flip flops broke and my shoe became lost. BUT luckily children were nearby and after laughing at me, they dug for it! And then I was the one laughing, the whole thing was ridiculous.

Ten kilometers in, and I decided to head back home. It was getting late and if i kept going I'd probably get stuck again or buy even more unwanted bananas. Ten kilometers in and allegedly only 12 more to go until who knows what I'll reach. I've been told the ocean is achievable. I was told that the road just simple ends. I was told there is more to see. And I believe it. There's no way knowing without going. And hell, with the amount of things I saw in this short distance that surprised me, I'm expecting  a supermarket at the end of the road! 

Third world

I saw a grown man watch a bubble machine for the first time in his life with a wonder and confusion that would only be seen on Americans' faces if we saw artificial life. The amazement in that. 

Every alley has dirty dogs itching themselves, kittens meowing for their mothers, chickens scrounging for scraps amongst children in garbage piles. Meat hanging on hooks, laundry hanging on lines, children hanging out of windows. 

Sometimes I forget it's a third world until I notice people wandering the muddy streets with no shoes, every article of clothing has holes and are covered in dirt. 

I forget I live in a developing country until kids are at my house on a perfectly fine Tuesday and not in school. I forget I live in a developing country until I'm told I can't walk through a forest because that's where people open defecate. 

Until I go from waiting on omby to cross the road and poverty to malls in the capital and people driving Range Rovers.

I forget until I see a man holding his baby while riding a motorcycle. Until I'm shoved into a mode of transportation that technically should only carry 18 people and I'm number 29. 

Until I'm told the only possible road to take has flooded. 

I'm reminded when I see 6-year-olds toting around their 1-year-old siblings while their mom is working in the rice field and they don't know where dad is.

When I notice that kids are used to sleeping on the floor.

I forget until I hear "vazaha" being screamed at me while passing by or being whispered about that I have money because I'm white. 

When I see corruption, people not being paid, people living from day to day on very little. When I see children waiting below large trees when the wind blows hard, hoping it will blow some fruit down. 

When I see a large pile of trash inches away from the market where we buy our food. The produce that is sold is grown locally, and whatever is in season is what is available. I forget until I see the injustices around me. The inequality. The sicknesses. 

I forget that I'm currently living in a developing country sometimes. I forget sometimes until all that is around me, reminds me.