West coast style

Africa » Madagascar
August 7th 2006

Published: September 16th 2006

Having been chased from the cold weather of the "hautes plateaus", I recently found myself in a 19 hour taxi-brousse ride from Antsirabe to Morondava. I knew I was getting into warm territory when the brousse stopped in Miandrivazo for a late night snack (10pm) and I found myself taking off my sweatshirt! Bring it on!
As we slowly made our way over what seemed to me a dried up river bed full of gigantic canyons, all through dahalo (bandit) country, I attempted a delirious sleep. We arrived in sunny Morondava at 7am. Having planned so well for this trip, I had brought no guide book and disregarded all information that my friend provided about the town. I assumed I'd find cell coverage and all would be well. Yes, Morondava does have cell coverage, but it's Orange, and not Madacom. I was, essentially, screwed. So, I sat at the brousse station with a good book for 4 hours until my other friends arrived. From there, all went smoothly.
The air was humid and alive with energy--which is notable in the form of the kilalaky, the traditional Malagasy dance originating from Morondava. It's a bit like the twist, with more knees, and wider, energetic movements. I quickly fell in love. I can't say I had a single negative experience there---never even heard that horrible word "vazaha" (white person/foreigner---and usually screamed by small children).
The evening cooled slightly as I met with many friends and went for drinks on the beach, savoring the sweet salty air. The following morning found me bright and early tying on my running shoes to participate in the Annual Marathon Vositse, an event held by ANGAP to raise awareness and protection of the Giant Jumping Rat. While I did not attempt the marathon, I ran a pretty decent 5km with some good friends. We waited at the finish line to cheer in our half-marathoners, and then wallowed away the afternoon in the sweltering heat.
Much planning occurred, and I developed a group of 5 friends to accompany me to the Grands Tsingy National Park. The evening started out innocently enough with about 20 of us volunteers sharing beers, stories and laughter. We moved on to dinner, then continued the celebration in the hotel room. It was Emily's birthday, and hey, we don't get to see each other often!
We drank and danced to iPod music for quite a while until we decided (at 3am!) to crash the cabaret going on in our hotel. Rivera was singing, and it was pricey, but we thought we could get in free as it was so late. With a little sweet talk from Danny and Margot, we were shaking our booties to Rivera. As I focused on shaking my booty and not falling down, I suddenly looked up to find a microphone in my face and Rivera smiling at me! She shook her booty with us, 'gasy style, sang her heart out and laughed at us vazaha for not knowing the words. Afterwards, we all took pictures. I crashed at about 4:30, only to awaken at 5:30 to start my adventure towards the Tsingys!
We had hired a 4x4 vehicle with driver for an insanely pricey amount and hoped that it would all be worth it. We piled bleary eyed into the car, 4 volunteers and 2 travelers from Britain that we met in Morondava. The road was long and as we drove, we found ourselves traveling through scrub brush and scattered trees reminiscent of the African landscape. We were only waiting for the (nonexistant) giraffes and lions to peek out at us.
After a long day on the road we arrived in Bekopa, and settled down in the campground. Madagascar has a wonderful set-up/acknowledgement of us volunteers, and we get to pay local "resident" entry fees to the parks, as opposed to "tourist" fees. So we set up camp and enjoyed the warm afternoon beneath the trees before finding a friendly little hotely to serve us spaghetti and crepes.
Bright and early Monday morning we prepared ourselves for the great Grand Tsingy! A short car trip away, we were being handed rock climbing harnesses and briefed by our guide, Simon. We knew we were in for a good day! Through a mixture of English, French and Malagasy, we wound our way through the tunnels and caves of the Tsingy, until we began our ascent to the top.
No one quite knows how these strange limestone formations came to be, but there are literally miles and miles of them. They also, oddly, are very symetrically organized. The rocks are the homelands of the Vazimba, the long ago ancestors of all Malagasy tribes, and now non-existant except through mixed blood. The rocks are called "Tsingy" because they tsingitsingy, or are pointy. They've become pointy over the years because of erosion and acid rain. The tsingy are home to many lemur, chameleon, bird and insect species. A few years back the Tsingy were "discovered" by some explorers who realized their uniqueness, and it was formed into a World Heritage site. I believe that's one reason why it's one of the best run parks in Madagascar.
We were excited to find that the adventure through Tsingy involved effort--it was a true adventure. The day was characterized by searching for hand-holds, hoisting yourself up over ledges, squeezing through tight spaces, precarious footpaths, and breathtaking views. When we finished our circuit, we were quite pleased! We returned to camp to relax, plan the next day and have a cold beer.
Tuesday started out with a pirogue ride up the Manambolo river, where we stopped at a cave, saw Vazimba tombs, and learned how to pole a pirogue down the river. The great cliffs on either side of the wide river were topped with funny, fat-bellied trees who store water at the base of their trunk. After the river, we switched shoes, grabbed some more snacks, and headed through the Petits Tsingy. None of us were honestly overwhelmingly excited to go, but figured we'd might as well. It too, proved to be well worth the effort. The Petits Tsingy was much like an adventure theme park, in ways, running through the neatly-ordered, naturally-formed passageways, climbing over tree trunks, avoiding hanging vines, slightly tricky pathways...we found that we enjoyed the Petits because we got to play in and touch the grand landscapes we had seen the day before. We made quite a spectacle for the guides when we ran into some French women who were doing missionary work in Madagascar. Being that none of us spoke French, the vazahas proceeded to communicate with eachother in fluent Malagasy. Not an every day sight, and our guides were quite impressed! After playing in the tsingys, we headed to the forest. Our lack of excitement about the lemurs before quickly disapated as we happened upon a family of sifaka--white lemurs with black bellies. We sat down in the dried leaves to watch the family curiously watching us, leaping from trees, peering down at these strange two-legged beings that were ooing and aahing over their existence. We eventually headed out of the forest and back to the tents. We were happy campers!
We arranged for an early morning breakfast with our favorite new coffee and mofo friends, who sadly told us that it would be quiet when we left. We had made quite a ruckus in the campground, being that we were the only white ones speaking Malagasy, especially smack in the middle of tourist season.
I spent the afternoon playing with the children whose parents worked in the campground...taking pictures, dancing kilalaky, and chatting. We had some celebratory beers that night and prepared to say goodbye to this fabulous little place.
We had a slower-paced trip back to Morondava, stopping along the way to view the oldest Baobob tree, marked at a 2000 years old. We also found a curiously beautiful two Baobobs that grew twisted together. It was great to be back in Morondava, relaxing in the chill atmosphere, chatting with the mpivarotras in the market and eating giant carmelized donuts!
Sadly, as all things must, the trip came to an end and we started our slow ascent up to the chilly plateau on a night brousse that brought little sleep. We arrived in Antsirabe in time for my 25th birthday, which was celebrated with good friends and good food.
Madagascar, still, never fails to surprise me!

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