If you ford a river with the crowd, the crocodile cannot eat you. — Malagasy proverb
My husband, Bill Rollnick, and I were part of an American Red Cross team traveling to Madagascar to help implement the global Measles and Malaria Preventive Initiative. In October, our team was part of a joint partnership led by the American Red Cross, the United Nations Foundation, UNICEF, CDC, WHO and the Malagasy government in which millions of Malagasy children, ages 9 months to 5 years, received measles vaccine, Vitamin A, de-worming medicine and insecticide-treated mosquito nets.
The team, headed by American Red Cross Chairman Bonnie McElveen-Hunter, included Michele Kessler of Palm Beach, Microsoft Vice President Teresa Carlson, Red Cross volunteers and health professionals on loan.
We knew nothing about Madagascar. So I began to research for the trip. First thing I read is that Madagascar (a former French Colony off the coast of Mozambique) is a lovely island of both man made and natural catastrophes: bridges fall into rivers cyclones destroy villages and bring malaria, boats capsize and buses break down for days, not to mention free-swimming larvae which penetrate the skin, contaminated drinking water, cholera, diarrhea, bilharzias, dengue and chikungunya fever, scorpions, giant rats, wasps, parasites, amoebas, leeches, crocodiles.
Our doctor gave us shots and medicine to prevent something dire from happening to us, and medicine to take if it did - not to mention our own hypodermic needles “in case”… in case of what?
What follows is my trip diary, hopefully depicting what was to be a profound journey of both the mind and the spirit for all of us.
Saturday, Sunday, October 20th - 21st
Over night from New York to Paris, then a full out sprint to make our connection. We arrive panting and a bit discombobulated to find dear Bonnie and Michele waiting anxiously at the gate. Whew! We made it. Then an eleven hour flight to Madagascar, arriving just before midnight, and on to our hotel in the capital city of Antananarivo … Antananarivo (too many syllables! how to remember… A tan Nan arrives oh! in Antananarivo)
Monday, October 22nd
A free day, and the only day Bill and I will have to experience the country as ordinary visitors. We decide to pass on the official ceremonies and sleep until six, walk about Tana (Just as I figured how to pronounce Antananarivo I find it is referred to by its shorter name Tana!) and after lunch, take in the celebrated Madagascar lemurs - those adorable animals that look like squirrels or cats crossed with teddy bears, sound like police cars, and dance like ballerinas!
We ate a delicious lunch at our hotel, the Colbert, which has a French style patisserie- clearly making it a cake lover’s paradise and the surprising source of Riviera style pizza served with delicious provincial olive oil and peppery herbs.
After lunch, we set out for the lemurs’ haunt, which can be found about 22 kilometers from town on the road to Imerintsiatosika. During the trip out to the lemur sanctuary, we drove pass an exotic backdrop of rice paddies, adobe brick farms, zebus, school children in uniforms, dilapidated market stalls by the edge of the road, and derelict buildings.
The Lemurs, we found, are a delicious, enchanting bunch of prosimians-or primitive primates-most of which are found only in Madagascar. Apparently life was quite wonderful for the lemur until 600AD when man arrived, and it has been down hill ever since. They are endangered due to habitat destruction and hunting. Still they seem to trust man and love having their photo taken! Actually, being a sociable lot, they demand it!
Tuesday, October 23rd
6AM leave for airport and off to Tulear, a coastal town built on the Tropic of Capricorn, in the southwestern part of the island. The flight down was surprising to me, for the view out the window was starker than I had imagined, the result of massive deforestation.
An Internet travel guide describes Tulear as the “end of the line” of road N7. A metaphor, surely for the area is remote, harsh, desolate, unbearably hot and dry, with little or no rain. The dusty streets of Tulear are lined with pousse-pousses (rickshaws). The drivers for the most part are asleep in the seats… perhaps dreaming John Lennon’s gibberish lyrics from #9Dream: “Ah bowakawa pousse-pousse”.
We set off to various tiny villages to visit vaccination sites. Easier said than done. We traveled in a caravan of 4x4s- off road vehicles, which was essential as all the roads were decidedly off! Most of the time we drove on the shoulder, and we never drove alone.
After driving for about an hour we arrived at our first village, which was made up of a few thatched huts and a stucco single story schoolhouse. Curious, barefoot children immediately surrounded us. The official Red Cross photographer and I began to photograph them. With each click of our cameras the children let out an excited roar of approval. They delighted in being the focus of our attention, but when we showed them their photos from the back of our digital cameras, they could not recognize themselves…their friends yes, but none knew what they themselves looked like. No self-image! I hardly knew how to program that concept. Their huts clearly had no mirrors, often no furniture at all, no extra clothes, nothing personal. We saw no signs of a water pump, no apparent vegetable gardens, and obviously no electricity. Some of the children we saw had distended bellies-the ironic symptom of malnutrition.
The Red Cross measles initiative is a massive success, virtually eliminating the deadly disease from the island. The distribution of the anti-malarial mosquito netting hopefully will achieve the same results, Perhaps, however, the most future-driven effect from the program is that local nursing is learning from the visiting health care professionals stringent hygienic medical treatment, which they will continue utilizing long after the teams have left.
Lunch at a small hotel on the beach… a much welcomed breeze, a bottle of the local Three Horse Beer and Spaghetti Bolognese made with zebu. I wondered if our cooked zebu was at one time one of those scrawny critters we passed on the road.
Wednesday, October 24th
More villages; more dusty roads. We were told a few shocking statistics: 1) nearly 75% of the people live below the poverty line. 2) 60 % of the population is un-employed and 3) 50% of the population is under fifteen years of age- a figure to which we could attest! How does that bode for the country’s future?
Our last village, closer to Tulear, was the most organized and possibly the most affluent community we had visited. Crowds of mothers and their young children were patiently waiting to receive their shots and netting. Their clothes seemed a bit fresher, though few seemed to have shoes. To the side of the general gathering was a group of mothers and their young sons. The boys about 4-5 years old had just been circumcised and were proudly displaying themselves. They wanted their photos taken. I obliged. Madagascar has the lowest HIV rate in sub-Saharan Africa, with less than 1 percent of its people infected.
As we were about leave for the airport and the return trip to Tana, to pack for the midnight flight to Paris, a boy presented himself to me. He wanted me to take his photograph. Unlike the other boys, he neither laughed nor mugged for my camera, but instead looked into my lens with a profound and slightly sad expression of both hope and fortitude.
His sweetness truly touched my heart when I photographed him, and he continues to haunt my thoughts. I decided to pull up his file. When I enlarged his photo I could see reflected in his eyes not only my shadow, but also the Red Cross volunteers standing behind me who brought the initiative to his village. Perhaps, this could be my metaphor- far better than “end of the line”: a young boy reflecting the efforts of the world to make his life better, and his own quiet stamina which he will need to make a difference for his generation.
One of the most successful public health programs in recent years, the Measles Initiative has supported the vaccination of more than 400 million children in over 50 countries.
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MALAGASY STYLE ZEBU SPAGHETTI BOLOGNESE
Which brings us back to Spaghetti Bolognese made with local Zebu. Zebu, a humped backed yak-like critter, tastes like gamey beef and is often the tough “steak” you enjoy in pubs and other eateries around the world.
Ground meat from a scrawny Zebu.
Finely chopped onion
Finely minced garlic
Can of tomatoes mashed into a pulp by hand
Catsup (yes, a little catsup, a popular condiment in Madagascar))
Salt to taste
Oil
SAUCE:
First work your Zebu until it drops dead. (That keeps the meat lean)
Then scrape off what meat there is left on the bone…
Sauté the garlic and onions until softened. Add the ground meat and lightly brown. Stir in the tomatoes, catsup and salt. Simmer.
Prepare spaghetti al dente