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Sooo la vie est commencé. The last five days have been a dream blur. I’ve been at three different beauteous hotels with flush toilets and the nine girls are awesome. We are all insane in a good way and have already come up with a code word for diarrhea (kiss kiss karaoke) so I would say we tore down all boundaries pretty toute de suite.

I am sitting at my desk Lot II J 82 WE, Ivandry, Antananrivo. My mosquito net next to me makes me feel like a princess.

Anyways will attempt to be chronological here:

Orientation was lot of us sitting around watching Roland talk (approx rate of 2 words per min), having snack time and going to bed at 9 every night. We also took van rides into the paysage to visit some palaces (palace is used loosely here – the precolonial palace was literally a one room with a very tall roof and a bunk bed. Lots of wooden bowls and spears on the walls. Post colonial palace looked like a special bird flew in a giant size dollhouse from Angleterre and plopped it next to a huge rock where they used to slay zebu (special cow with giant hump) back when Europeans were still just vazahas (white people)in weird pants that bought your spices. This is a weird weird place). We also went to three tombs which are basically located in this awesome village where, as far as I can see, there is always someone playing an accordion and no one wears shoes. People drop honey, candy, and sugar on rocks near the tombs as offering to the gods because – I am not kidding here – “Life is sweet”.

This is a place where you literally give gummy bears to a God called Neny Be (Grandma) if you want your children to be blessed.  These people are the chilliest ever.

We also went to a market and I bartered for flipflops and a pair of earrings all of which cost me less than an American dollar combined (it was 2100 ari ari). I almost got smacked in the face by 3 live goose that a man was swinging around from a rope tied to his wrist. That was cool. It was also enlightening to see that many goat chicken zebu livers all on one table under one roof.  There was a lot of mud and a lot of people staring at me. It was fun!

The staff are:

Roland (director man) is a white white gentle giant from Kansas who came here for Peace Corps and ended up staying for 20 years. He speaks Malagasy, French and English, all very slowwwllly. This is the Malgache way. Mora mora [moo-ra moor] = easy easy. There is no rush here ever. He is big. He has no hair. He is awesome.

Hanta is assistant director and is Malgache woman that I am having trouble describing because she is literally too nice that no words suffice. Her laugh makes me feel like my brain has turned into a baby panda. She speaks French even slower than Roland and when she went to Texas one time everyone thought she was Mexican. I want her to adopt me.

I could go on with the other staff members but you basically get the gist that I am landed in a soft smiling paradise. People were not lying to me when they told me Malgache are the nicest ever. Even when people are yelling vazah to me on the street I feel like they are my bffls. We got in a cab (cab literally from the 1950s there was no dashboard, shocks or seatbelts) and us and the cab driver literally laughed the entire way to the restaurant for no apparent reason other than we were vazaha (white people). We would say one word in Malgache and he would crack up into his steering wheel dying of laughter I felt like I was on some kind of weird happy drug. It’s on my list as the top 8 minutes of my life.

Meanwhile, every hotel owner of every hotel we’ve been to has told us to come back soon! No but just like, to hang out. The second one asked what an American hotel owner would be doing in this situation and was surprised to learn he/she would probably be in a random office building somewhere behind a swank desk instead of sitting around drinking beer with the guests. Maisssss ca fait pas du sens quoi…

So… you get the picture. The hospitality is a real thing. I have been with my host family 0 nights. This is the first night. They are:

Pere: Andriatahina Rakotonirainy

Mere: Jeanette Ravaoarisoa

Frere: Sitraka Andriatahina

(oh yeah forgot to mention all the names have like 34 letters in them) fml.

The dad (nickname Tahina) is a retired IR professor and is a skinny tiny man with a strangely abrupt enormous laugh. The mom is a librarian and is quite possibly the most timide malgache I have ever met here. The son is 23 and does something with computers and French people he also likes photography. They also have 3 older daughters that I will probably meet. They all speak French except for the mom. She is half Chinese. Their house is really cute in a neighborhood not far from Tana (theres a flush toilet (!) and a shower (!). And a tv). They keep telling me not to worry about noises on the roof it’s just cats running around. T’inquietes, c’est les chats. This will be awesome for my French. We are probably the same level language wise, except for Jeanette. I feel like they were a little insulted I didn’t eat more rice but they are grateful I actually speak French because I guess their last student didn’t. Also, they were surprised to learn there were black people in New England. Ah bon? They like chilli sauce which comes in this plastic bottle and is kind of a fluorescent red color but I ate it anyway hopefully it won’t give me the kiss kiss karaoke.

In other news, there is a pretty nice Jesus poster above my bed. It is of Psalm 54. They are excited to take me to church. I told them I wasn’t raised with religion and they seemed fine with that, besides the fact that technically that makes me one of the “men without regard for God” mentioned in aforementioned Psalm 54. The ones that Jesus describes as “strangers attacking me” and “ruthless men seeking my life”.

Oh well. Tsara be ! [sara-bay] = very good. I don’t think they take it too seriously because the son described church as “boring” and put his head in his hands right in front of them at dinner, alors.

My princess mosquito net is calling me.  

I don’t know the word for sleep in Malgache yet but if I did I would insert it here. Instead I will say Faly mahalala anao [fah-ly mah-la-la-la now] = nice to meetcha!