So people always ask me… what is a typical day in your life in Madagascar? An impossible question to answer, but I thought I would give an example of my last few days, visiting a fellow PCV in a small town nearby.

Last Sunday I went to the parkage to wait for a brousse to Ali’s town. After standing in the sun for half an hour, I found a shady spot to sit and watch people pass by. An old man came and sat by my, practicing his English. He worked for years on a sambo (cargo ship) and had been more places than I would have guessed. A lady passed, selling Eskimo ice cream bars so I bought us each one. A girl came over and sat next to me. So close that she was basically in my lap.I shared my ipod headphones with her. The truck pulled up, and because I was fifteen feet away, I was one of the last to get in, and had to stand awkwardly half-bent over in the back until someone would make space for me. My new best friend, the eleven year old girl from outside, made sure that she sat next to me. We shared my ipod the whole way. The best part about sharing an ipod with a Malagasy child – they still belt out the songs at full volume, the same as you would if you were in your car listening to the radio with the windows up.

On Monday we got upearly and hit the road to head to a nearby town where we were planning on teaching local health workers about composting and gardening. Ali had been the week before so they were prepped. They had said they were excited to learn. We arrived, and .. no one was there. Hmm. Well, there were acacia trees planted on top of a hill that we wanted to look at, so up we went, looked around, enjoyed the fresh morning air, and back to the health hut. Hmm. Had a homemade yogurt at an epicerie. The male worker shows up. “Oh, you want to teach us about composting? You should have told us before. No one is here today.” Just keep smiling. Made an appointment (again) to ocme back the next day. Home to Ali’s earlier than planned – more than enough time to make homemade bagels! Delicious and reminiscent of mom’s cooking. Shared one with the wonderful woman at the epicerie in Ali’s town who wouldn’t take any money for the ¼ kilo of flour we got because “Ali was her friend”. When we brought her the bagel (and some Swedish fish), she declared that it was delicious. “You haven’t tasted it yet” we pointed out. “I can see that it’s delicious” she clarified.

Next day, two health huts to do, since one was not on the same page as us yesterday. Felt so good to actually have good, solid teaching programs to do. Both centers were interested, asked lots of questions, seemed like they would actually start composting and gardening. We gave out seeds as a cadeau, and Ali told them she would be back to check in a couple of weeks. In between teachings we also delivered composting papers to a farmer that I had met a year before on a brousse ride to Ali’s site, but hadn’t seen since. We made a vegan cake and baked it in a solar cooker. We played a Swedish block game with some CEG students. At night we watched satellites, listened to acapella singers, krayshawn, kanye, and Disney music all within an hour span.

A typical day in my life? There isn’t one. But a good couple of days none the less.

xoxo chan

I had been feeling down lately, disconnected from the community here (I live in an industrial neighborhood) and watching too many American movies (nothing like two hours of staring at beautiful shoes and delectable food to make me a bit homesick). Luckily, as usual, something came along to flip the balance and remind me of what I love about being here: the kids. I teach an English and art class Saturday mornings at the American Center, and the children have craftily wormed their way into my grumpy little heart, as they have done so often over the past two years. It took us two weeks to feel each other out, but now that we have decided that we can trust each other, I am in danger of bringing about fifteen home as souvenirs. These kids are different than the ones in my previous town; their parents have more money and have a bit more invested in their children’s education (the fact that they are sending them to learn English at a young age is really encouraging), but they still tend to miss out on the personal attention that we lavish on kids in the States: enter the local PCV, who finds them hilarious and loves to encourage their creativity. Kids here don’t usually study art, and their learning style is based on the old French system – copy what is on the board, and memorize it. So when I give them paper and pencils and tell them to draw a tomato, the often tell me that they can’t; I should do it for them. ‘Yes, you can.” I reply. “Noooo.. I’m not good at it. You do it.” They say, slyly pushing paper and pencil into my hand. “Uh-uh, I know that you can draw, start with the bottle,” comes my response, showing them the tomato plants we planted in plastic bottles the week before. “Draw the bottle, and then show me where you think the plant should go.” And slowly, bit by bit the picture comes together. After completion and some congratulations are given, the students have no problems adding an animal or a flower next to their tomato... all hesitation gone (or maybe they just realized it’s more of a hassle trying to trick me into drawing for them).

And, just when I think that there are so many differences between ‘Gasy and ‘Merican cultures, Lova (the boy who works at the Center) brings on one my students over to me after class. “She’s crying” he says, as he backs away towards his computer. “What’s wrong, zandry?” I asked, using the word for someone younger than you. “I’m waiting for my papa,” she replied “he’s still not here.” Last one left after class waiting for her papa to show up. “Oh, that’s no problem” I replied, “he’s just on Malagasy time.” (Malagasies on the coast are notoriously late “I’m sure he’s on the road and will be here any minute. Want to look at pictures of... uhh... Barcelona with me?” (I happened to be checking UEFA scores at the time. “Who is better, Fabragas or Messi?” Luckily her papa pulled up on his moto and whisked her away from my futbol obsessed clutches, but it reminded me – kids are the same the world over. And so are teenage boys, judging by how quickly Lova dumped a crying kid on me and ran away. And it was nice that he thought I could take care of the situation.

As the days wind down on my time here in Mada, I find myself reflecting more and more on my life here. Walking out to have dinner with Jonathan and Mandy, two fellow Alaskans living here in Mahajanga, I took the long route that follows the coastline (and gives me a view across the bay to my old stomping grounds). I have tried to explain many a time to Gasy friends that in America you need to have money to live on the ocean. Not just a little money, but a lot of money. Here, you just need to get your hands on a bit of land. Luckily, there are still plenty of spots available, and it’s warm enough that you can build a house of minimal materials and stay comfortable. In most of the places in the bay area you are going to be surrounded by mango, guava or konikoni fruits. You can sit in your yard and wait for sellers of fish, shrimp or crab to wander by. In the non-rainy season you can catch free concerts put on by big name artists down on the ocean front. If you’re going to pick a place to make a little money go a long way, this place works.

Food for thought today:

“There is no act of faith more beautiful than the generosity of the very poor.”

From Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts

A fabulous read if you’re in the market for a book.

After two years of hard, brutal living conditions (in my cute fishing village located on the ocean surrounded by mango and guava trees), I have made the move to the city across the bay, Mahajanga, the place that dreams are made of, where stars go to be born and.. no wait, I’m getting a tad bit carried away. I moved to Mahajanga, the city across the bay. It is a larger city, but nothing too crazy to be had here, although if I wanted to have ice cream and a cold soda every day, I could (although I would run out of money before the month was up). My new housing is nice, an apartment located in the center area of town, not far from the baka, not far from the ocean, not far from three different bazaars that sell more than the two vegetables that I could buy in my old town. On that hand, life here is great.

On the other hand, it’s hard to go from living in a house where I peeled my mangos out the window (compost pile!) and fetched my water from a well, regularly walked an hour on a dusty red road to visit friends, was not just a “vazaha” but someone who actually lived in the community, a farmer, a teacher, a friend. Now I am starting over again, finding my rhythm, adjusting to being indoors more, less in the environment and the field. It is probably a good baby step to heading back to the states, back to the land of offices and AC and shopping in those big, scary grocery stores…

My new job for the next six months is helping to create the new American corner, a cultural center being constructed here in collaboration with the English Teaching Center in Antananarivo. It will have computers, Kindles, Nintendo Wiis, I think iPads, and a whole lot of other cool technology that I don’t even have (or had). We’re going to try and make the environment a big part of the theme of the center, so I am hoping to start some recycling programs, and try to instill a sense of community ownership in the kids using the center.

Wish me luck; I’m hitting the ground running because I’ve learned that time flies and I’ll be moving on to my next adventure before I realize it. The only question is: where will I land next?

One thing I will really miss about Madagascar: going to the bazaar every day for brightly colored veggies, freshly butchered meat, newly caught fish, buying rice by the kapoka (a tin can used to scoop out rice, beans, macaroni pasta, etc in uniform quantities), and making friends with the mpivarotras (sellers) that absolutely love it when white people show up speaking Malagasy. They want to know where you learned it, where you live now, and the ever important ‘are you tamana?’ Tamana is a Malagasy word that roughly translates to mean that it is good, you are happy, comfortable living in a place. Anytime you have been in a town for more than a day someone is bound to ask you if you are tamana being there. It’s generally best to answer yes, unless you can come up with an acceptable reason why you’re not tamana (luckily, hailing from Katsepy meant that I could tell people that I wasn’t tamana in their city because there weren’t coconut trees… no arguing with that!)

Being in Mahajanga has reminded me that people here (and in a lot of other countries) are adapted to living in a more chaotic state than we are in the States. No-rules traffic means that you, as a pedestrian do NOT have the right of way. It is your job to avoid the cars, buses, motorcycles, cyclists, cows, and any other objects that may be coming down the road at any given speed, in either lane, possibly on their cell phone. The concept of lines has not taken root, so when you go to the post office, the bazaar, the ice cream shop, you push your way to the front and do whatever it takes to get the eye of the person in charge so that you can buy your stamp. If you try to respect the natural order (that guy was here before me, so I’ll go after him), someone new will come in and cut in front of both of you. Survival of the… loudest?

The rainy season is upon us now, and that leads to flooded streets and muddy roads. Clothes dry, but at a much slower speed, and if you put them away wet they mold and make you permanently musty. Sudden rain bursts lead to invisible sidewalks – a problem that wouldn’t mean much in the States, but here where the sidewalk can disappear at any point in the form of a large gaping hole, you want to be able to see where you are putting your feet. On the plus, I’ve had the chance to make random acquaintances whilst stuck under awnings (today Karina and I were stuck under a satrona tree, better than nothing but still emerged fairly sodden).

Until next time,

chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

Back in Winter 2009, when I first came to Madagascar from Niger as a confused little new Peace Corps Volunteer, I was fortunate enough to be greeted and taught by several veteran PCVs - volunteers who had come to Mad in 2008, were evacuated in March 2009 due to the riots and violence associated with the coup in Antananarivo. These volunteers waited and worked in the states until November of 2009, when to program re-opened and they came back to finish their service. most completed and left over the last year, but one crazy gal (shoutout to Brit!) stayed for another year and is heading home after three years living all over Mad. The last of the zoky group - that officially makes me one of the PCVs who have been here the longest. I put this random story in because I simply cannot believe that two years have passed since I came to this island. There were times in the first three months when I honestly believe that time stood still. I had days when I did not think that I could possibly live here for two years - my language would never improve, I would always be afraid of the CEG (middle school) kids, I would never become a true part of my community.

Two years later and I can't believe that soon I will be leaving this place - my town where I have finally mastered the art of sarcasm in malagasy, where the CEG kids come by my house and ask for english lessons, where I am intruduced by certain wonderful people as their daughter. Peace Corps has given me the opportunity to try and help people, to teach new farming techniques and assist in english programs, to share american culture, cook american food and cheer on the US soccer team as we watched the world cup together. More than anything, though, Peace Corps has shown me that no matter where you are in the world, and where you are from, you will find people who will give when they have next to nothing, who will overlook your many, many, many grammatical mistakes and still work through conversations with you, and who are more like you than they are different.. well, in certain ways, that is.

Again, not to sugarcoat Madagascar - it has its problems, just like anywhere, and I still have days when I want to throttle certain people.. just as I'm sure that there are heaps of times that people wonder what is going on with the crazy vazaha in their town. I have cranky days, and I am looking forward to leaving site and startng my six months working with the American Corner and the English Teaching Center in Mahajanga. I have been looking at old hiking and skiing photos and I am ready to go back to that life next summer. But I will be ever grateful to this small town for the two years that they took me in. Irkoy beri! (a throwback to my Zarma buddies back in Niger). Here's to the next six months, and then a return to my mountains.

"...but the compensations have been great - certainly more than I deserve. I have had the world lie beneath my clumsy boots and have seen the red sun slip over the horizon after the dark Antarctic winter. I have been give more than my share of excitement, beauty, laughter and friendship." -Sir Edmund Hillary

(I still haven't been atop Everest or on Antarctica.... but i have run up many a mountain with Lori, and have not-so patiently waited for the dark winter days in Alaska to end. If anyone has the itch to go to the Himalayas or the South Pole, though.. you know where to find me!)

xoxo, chan

Yesterday (Wednesday) I was at my friend's house helping her cut, tie up, and haul bundles of rice up to her house from the fields below. The rain was starting to fall gently and she was worried that it would start dumping and we would lose a huge part of her harvest. For five hours, from 7am to noon we went back and forth, back and forth, until our arms were tired and we were dripping sweat. Of course, when the work stopped we still had to de hull some rice, clean and winnow it, cook it, gut, clean and cook fish, and then finally stop for a brief rest. Now, a lot of people work hard every day doing manual labor.. but did I mention that she was eight and a half months pregnant with her seventh child at the time?

I say 'was' because this morning at 4:45 am I awoke to her standing on the road outside of my house calling my name. I groggily awoke to go outside and hear her say calmly "The baby's coming; hopefully I'll have it today and be home by tomorrow. Just wanted to tell you!"

Did I mention that she lives about an hour away and walked in by herself at 4am to find the nurse?

Two hours later I was having coffee while I waited for a boat to Mahajanga when I mentioned to another lady that Mama ny Nanta was in labor. "Oh, she already had the baby - a girl" she replied.

She'll probably still beat me out to the rice fields tomorrow.

xoxo chan

Another year, another Ramadan. For those of you that had the (mis)pleasure of talking to me during one of my daily mid-afternoon hunger rants, you know that this Ramadan was much harder... probably because I did the whole month this time, and didn't have a visit from the lovely Emily to save me at the end of the month as I did last year. That being said, I am so glad that I did the whole time and got to celebrate Eid yesterday, my new favorite holiday (mainly because you get to eat food again).

My friend Jojo did a good job explaining Ramadan to me (probably as he noticed the longing in my eyes for breakfast one morning): "Chantel" said he, "Ramadan is not a time for suffering. It is a chance to relax and cleanse you body of everything bad. You abstain from over eating, you avoid bad music and sights to cleanse your eyes and ears, and you devote your thoughts to Allah. Look, we're sitting on the beach talking and watching the boats come in. Not a bad time, eh?*"

Although I still complained about being hungry every day around 4.00, it did help to think of things his way. On another note, my friend Faida told me that the women still always suffer during Ramadan bacause they still have to clean and cook, while the men get to sit around and relax. Different points of view.. luckily as the weird white person hanging out here, I get to do whatever I want, so did a bit of cooking, my house is super clean, and fit some boat watching in as well.

Sorry no photos to add today this cafe is sloooow but will try tomorrow morning. Or next month. We shall see. Tratra ny Eid, al-humdelallahi!

Bisous

p.s. On Eid (the holiday after Ramadan where you eat lots of bread together and everyone is REALLY happy all day) the men at the mosque had me take a photo of them together, and I was told to send it to Barack Obama. I love my town.

*He may not have actually said "eh", but I'm hoping it will catch on here in Katsepy...

You know those weekends when you take a taxi brousse to a town 155 km away and it takes six and a half hours to get there and you arrive covered in bruises all up and down your spine and then you get to your room and the faucet is… missing... from the sink basin so no running waterbut you still pay full price for the room because the mean patron tells you that all white people have lots of money and then you take a boat trip that leaves at 6 am instead of 5 am (the time you agreed on and were waiting at the dock in the freezing cold) and then you head home back on the road again and the trip that took six and a half hours two days ago now takes thirteen so you arrive home at 6 am tired and hungry and not sure if you should sleep or not because it’s your friend Laure’s last two days in Madagascar (bye Laure!!) so you drink coffee and stay up and decide not to take the first vedette to Mahajanga because, hey, there are two more but then they both leave on special trips so you get stuck on the big slow ferry leaving in the afternoon and when you finally get to Mahajanga you can’t get off the ferry because they tied the cows right up against the stairwell on both sides so people are climbing around on the outside of the boat and the nice lady from the church tells you not to do it because it’s dangerous so you wait which is good because when the cows are gone a lady makes you carry her child down the steep stairs (please oh please don’t drop her you think) tonga in the city, have a good night finally get some sleep and up in the morning to send your newly acquired bed (thanks Brian!) on the boat to Katsepy while you run some errands and when you get back the bed has been returned by the pous pous driver because he couldn’t find the guy who was waiting at the port so now you’re stuck not sure what to do except write a blog consisting of one long sentence? It’s the same weekend that your friends showed up in your town and convinced you to go to Soalala so you hopped on a brousse where the lady sat on the hood for the last three hours and the sweet lady at the hotel took you on a tour of the town to find the swimmable beach and you saw them painting the new mosque to ready it for the holidays and then you spent two days taking lakana trips across the bay to see lemurs and turtles and eating delicious freshly caught shrimp and fish and drinking beers with two of your favorite girls and the people of Soalala were so nice and happy and you saw lots of Katsepy friends here and there and you and Maya ate liver cooked up on a grill at 11 pm in the middle of nowhere and got back home at 6 am and were so happy to see all of your villagers and spent the morning playing with children on the beach and eating coconuts and then took the slow ferry to Mahajanga but, hey, who cares because you got to spend more time with your friend who is heading back to France tomorrow (bye Laure!!) and sure, your bed didn’t get delivered but it will happen this afternoon because these things always work out and because this country is just pretty darn amazing? Just another weekend in the Boeny. Bisous!

I had a piviotal moment in my Peace Corps experience the other day... put my beans in a pan, warmed the water and left them to soak. Upon return, I opened the lid, pulled one out with a spoon to taste, decided they were good to go... and then saw the cockroach in the pot. Hmm. My first thought - was it DOA, or did it die when I heated the water? Upon reflection I am not sure what difference that would have made, but at the time it seemed crucial to the moment. Next step was throwing the roach out, and draining the water. Only when I had added new water in and gone to light my stove did I think "Is it weird that I am not phased by the roachy bean situation? Is there some sort of disease I should be worried about? I mean, if nothing really kills those suckers I would assume it could be harboring a pleathora of germs that then soaked into my beans, just waiting to be ingested by an unsuspecting human..." I have to admit that I felt like a bit of a pansy when I threw the beans out and ate a can of tuna instead. It was Happy Tuna, but I was too ashamed of my food wasting to enjoy the smiling fish on the can. Next time...

Love from Madaland!

Bisous

In Malagasy, you refer to your younger siblings as "zandry", and your older siblings as "zoky". The "ko" is the possesive (my). So, a very happy birthday to my dearest OLDer brother.... who somehow keeps aging, while I stay youthfully fresh. That sounds a bit like a deodorant ad...

This photo is from a fundraiser that we had at the local private EPP (elementary school). I think Tony (center) is the cutest kid EVER, and yes, Mahamoud always rocks those pink crocks. This photo makes me think of a really interesting conversation I had the other day; I was sitting watching Lalaina braid Sola's hair, and some vazaha tourists were walking up the road, taking photos as they went. They stopped to photograph some kids that were playing int eh road, and Lalaina snorted (she really did snort), "Those vazahas are going to take the photos home and say 'ooh look at how poor the malagasy kids are. They don't even have clothes. They're so dirty.'" Then she and Sola both turned to me, "right, Chantel?" The funny thing was that it made me think of how differently I see everyone after being here for a good bit of time. Yes, the children ARE dirty, but it's because they're out playing all day. No, they don't have clothes, because it's so hot that some days I think I may actually melt. Trust me, if I could run around all day in just my underwear, I would. Unfortunately I get enough attention just because I'm white; I try to keep a good amount of skin covered. They are "poor", but for Malagasy standards my town is pretty well off. I won't be bringing photos home to show how hard life is here, but to show how much fun I had hanging out with kids who love to shout "GOODMORNINGHOWAREYOUGOODBYE" into the phone to my very patient parents on the other end.

With love from my second home,

chan xoxo

sunset at the beach in Mahajanga.

A HUGE thank you to all of you who donated funding to my Peace Corps Partnership - the money has all come in, and I am in Mahajanga today to start work on purchasing lumber for the desks (along with my school district "super"). It feels really great to be working on something that will be in my adopted town for years to come (Insh'allah), and I couldn't have done it without your help! I will be putting up photos and updates as we progress.

On a seperate note, life is great. Can't put it any plainer than that. I absoluely love the people in my town, in my pseudo-site (Mahajanga), and the PCVs in my region who remind me of the American things that I forget about, like iced coffee. Delectable. Work has been a little slow lately, but it has giver me a chance to spend time with people that I hadn't really connected with before, and I have made some great friendships in the past month.

I tend to forget a lot of the time that I am different from everyone around me (until someone points out how white I am), and how different my life here is from life in America. Take for instance, my trip to Mahajanga this morning: I woke up at 5.30 because my friend Andry swore that we would leave in the speedboat by 6.00. Well... we left at 8.30. And I travelled with eight other people and sixteen pigs. When the pigs started to try and climb over the side of the boat, people shifted positions to counterbalance the weight change,and the handlers pulled them back down by their ears. (Don't worry Peace Corps, there were lifejackets for everyone!). Got to Mahajanga half soaked and with a huge smile. Life is good.

Sorry for the random topic changes; I'm running on far too little sleep combined with far too much caffiene. In May I will be back to post photos and updates on the library and desks. Hope that life is good in America, Russia, Mexico, Australia, Austria, Ecuador and wherever else my lovely family and friends are off exploring these days.

Besos! chan

Hanging out with my favorite kid at my favorite cafe! Yeah I say that about all of the kids and cafes in Katsepy.. life is good!

In the midst of some crazy stormy weather here, hoping to be able to get home on a boat tomorrow; you never know at this time of year.

Lots of love from Mad, sorry in a rush but thinking of you all and hoping that things are going well wherever you are!

Mary - got your card today - thanks!!! :)

xoxo chan

p.s. Books you should read:

Catch-22

Any PJ Wodehouse book

Shadow of the Sun

Let the Great World Turn

It's always hard returning to "normal life" after a vacation... even if normal life is a bit out of the ordinary, as small towns in Madagascar seem to provide. It is also hard to switch gears from speaking english and immersing yourself in an american bubble for a few weeks, then to throw yourself back into isolation (and usually quite a bit of confusion). Therefore it was with a bit of trepidation that I caught the baka home last Thursday and started to do my usual walking circuit of Katsepy. Luckily for me, a LOT has changed since my last vacation, and the rewards have been tremendous!

1 - I CAN actually speak a little Malagasy! I am by no means stellar at the language, but I really enjoy sitting at breakfast, chatting with the fellows that work on the boats and the ladies that make and sell breads and coffee. Today I got to tell them that I HATE how people poo on the beach (and they told me I should do a teaching on why that is bad, so now I have that scheduled), and then when I said (for the 1 MILLIONTH time) that I didn't want a malagasy boyfriend because they're all "maditra" - aka they have a tendency to have multiple girlfriends, without informing the girls of the fact, I was informed by my friend Buda that "If a Malagasy guy has a vazaha girlfriend, he won't cheat on her". This made the lady eavesdropping next door laugh harder than I've seen her laugh before. All in all a great morning.

2- The kids aren't afraid of me.. this is both good and bad. Good because they drop by my house all the time to chat, practice their english, look at pictures and read books. Bad because they drop by my house ALL THE TIME. I kicked the last one out at 8.30 last night, which any PCV knows is waaaaaaaay past bedtime. Just before that though, my favorite english student ( i say that about all of them) came by, wrote the Arabic alphabet on my wall for me, practiced the letters and then read a passage from the Koran in Arabic. One of those great moments that I'll hang on to forever.

3- It's rice farming season, and my counterpart is really excited to try the new techniques! It's great to tell people about new and improved ways of farming but unless they want to learn, not always useful and sometimes frustrating. Now I just hope that things go well and we get enough rice for his family to last through the entire year. Fingers crossed!

On a sad note, the Niger Peace Corps program had to be evacuated due to increased kidnappings against international workers and tourists. Not only is this a blow to the people being benifited by the work of the PCVs, it is heartbreaking for the Nigerien staff who work so hard to keep PCVs safe and on the ground. And of course, disruptive and sad for the PCVs who have formed bonds with their communities and were mid-project. Please keep all involved in your thoughts or prayers.

Hope you all had a great New Year!

xoxo chan

**sorry this is the same as the email I sent out - yahoo erased all of my contacts so I could only reach a couple of people**

Hi! Finally after a long exercise in patience my Peace Corps Partnership proposal has posted to the website and is available for funding. I am very excited to get back to site and start working on the library - I already have a few books donated by the US Embassy, and am working with Books for Africa to aquire more. Please DO NOT feel that you need to donate anything, but if you would like to donate money you can follow the link below to the Peace Corps website. Feel free to pass this link on to others who may be interested.

As an alternative to money, I will still be looking for book donations, so if you have any laying around - elementary to middle school level french or english - let me know and we will brainstorm various ways to get them here. Thanks again and hope that everyone is having a great new year!

love, chan

http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate

project # 684-097

Well it has been quite the week. Started out with a trip to visit a fellow PCV - Jennie- whose mother had flown in from the US. The original plan was to kill a chicken and have a little Thanksgiving feast, but as the day went on the heat level rose and our motivation dropped proportionally, until we ended up with a (delicious) meal of rice and sardines. On Friday we all went to Mahajanga for the day, ate some ice cream and wandered for a while, had time to play some rummy by the pool and got to bed to get a early start on the next day...

That's when my luck ran out. I got to the dock early to catch a motor boat home, as the PC doctor was coming to my site and I wanted to make sure that I didn't have anoything to blatently unhealthy or unsafe lurking in my house.. after a quick cleaning, and a bucket bath for myself, I recieved the following text: Ferry too crowded, will come to [my town] in afternoon.

Of course the ferry (baka) was crowded... it's always crowded. Usually when it's too crowded, that's when someone decided to throw a cow onboard, just for kicks. Long story short, I still had to buy paints so I returned to Mhja. Nice trip home for no reason. The good part was that I am buying paints for the parents to paint the school with, and they all kept stopping me to tell me how excited they were to start on Monday. My town rocks.

So, back to Mhja, bought paint, sent it off to the baka on a pous-pous (rickshaw-cart) and off to lunch with jennie and her mom, then went to check to make sure my paint made it okay. First problem: the small baka wasn't going, just the big one. I told the pouspous to send it on the little one. No paint in site, and none of the dock workers have a very comprehensive explination of what happened to the paint; they all saw it, but that's it. Great. Back to the store to see if the driver returned with it. No paint. Then the pous-pous returns, and informed me that the paint was sent on the big baka. Made a few phone calls; the baka arrived but no one saw the paint. Great. Happy Thanksgiving. Bright and early Sunday I headed home to look into the problem- and of course by this point everyone at the dock was asking me about the paint and what happened, and telling me thatmalagasy people steal stuff. Again, great.

Home at last, can't get any leads on Sunday although again everyone told me that it was stolen, that people steal stuff here (a very common statement by a malagasy. There isn't a lof of trust between people here). Went to bed bummed and planning to go to Mhja AGAIN to buy paint AGAIN. Up early, did a quick look through Katsepy, still no paint. On the little baka, talked with a few of the workers, one saw the paint puton the big baka, so I know it at least made it that far. At the dock in Mhja, ran into the guy that I have been working with at the schools, mention to him that Simon saw that paint on the big baka, they go look around the little baka, and of course, there is my paint, hanging out in the captain's room up above. At this point I would like to say that I learned a valuable lesson about good communication and how to transport things more efficiently, but really I just reinforced my theory that "everything always works out". Oh and I love malagasy people even more because no one stole my paint. They just stuck it in a corner and didn't tell us about it. Life in the Peace Corps. Painting bright and early tomorrow, come join in the fun!

Hope that everyone had a lovely turkey day! Love from mangoland, chan

Hi all! Just a quick update to let you know that I am putting in for funding to repaint, build desks, and create a library at my CEG (rough equivilant of a middle school or junior high). Some of you will be getting the information sent through the mail to you from the Peace Corps - please do NOT feel like you have to donate anything! If you are interested, I will be putting more information up as soon as the paperwork goes through, and you will be able to access more at www.peacecorps.gov. A brief list of reasons why I want to work on the schools:

**Bats in the celing! Really gross, and hopefully relocateable...

**Peeling paint - creating a better looking area will hopefully create more ownership, especially as they'll do the work themselves!

**A 37% pass rate of 3eme students on to the Lycee (high school) level - we can do better than that, and starting off with more books and fewer children per desk (bench style) will be step one.

**Because I truly love the students in my town, who show up for extra english study sessions, help me plant my veggies, invite me to go swimming and make sure that I can't walk ten feet without hearing "good morning Chantel!" Even said at night, this is an improvement from "bonjour vazaha!"

Will update soon, love and miss you all!

xoxo chan

p.s. For Mary - more books you should read

Little Bee by Chris Carver(?) Wonderful and terrible. katie and I each devoured this book in a day, so we could talk about it asap!

What the Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell A collection of his fabulous New Yorker articles

Continent for the Taking - brutal, but a fascinating story of corruption and abuse in Africa

Lord of the Rings JRR Tolkien- because the books are so much better than the (admittedly awesome) movies

mazatoa!

Well, technically it is October tomorrow, but still.. time flies. It feels like just yesterday that I was sitting in my old room in Alaska making my poor dad read the four page checklist of Peace Corps recommended items.. and now here I am a year later, in a different country than I was originally sent to, so of course without the proper things anyway. C'est la vie! October 19th marks a year to the day I set off on this crazy roller coaster of emotions and adventure, and I have to say that I am already a better person because of the people of Madagascar, and my fellow PCVs. It is not easy to live in a different culture, surrounded by people who you can only sort of communicate with (and of course better on some days, total jibberish on others...), and the people of madagascar have proven to be just the group to drive me to the point of extreme frustration, and then, with a smile, coax me back down from the ledge.

I just returned from a business trip to the north, visiting one of my fellow PCVs (Katie, my soccer playing soul mate), and it was just what we needed - a chance to bounce ideas off each other, compare notes, do some hiking, and paint a map of madagascar. To get there, I have to take a series of different taxi brousses and stay the night in a previously unexplored town.. slightly daunting, but as my life seems to go, 'everything worked out'. On the baka (ferry) to the brousse station, I met a guy who works for a division of the UN here, who just happened to be heading north the next morning. "Oh really?" said I, "What a coincidence..." I managed to catch a ride with them about 2/3 of the way to her site, met a girl in the town that I stayed in who is the younger sister of the president of my fokatani (area i live in), and scored a prime seat the next morning to finish it off. On the way back I was smashed in the front with two other passengers for the first two hours, and to compensate I somehow managed to score a near empty taxi brousse all the way to mampikony... that NEVER happens. Of course, I then sat in mampikony for two hours (a huge onion producing town, so you can imagine the pleasant aroma), but made friends with a girl waiting for the same brousse as me and we got to sit in the front together and watch 'gasy music videos. She bought me street chicken, I bought her friend cassava bread. Good times. The drivers were all really nice, remembered my name, didn't rip me off.. it was the exact opposite of my last trip up.

Speaking of eating street food, Katie and I (as we sat on her porch eating fried cassava that a girl walks around the neighborhood selling) were just discussing how we don't even think about the fact that we could get sick from street foods anymore (sorry, Dr. A!). Case in point - poor Emily came to visit, and off I took her to the brochette (kabob) tables on her first night. When in Rome... not two days later the poor thing was doubled over with stomach cramps and a pleathora of other symptoms that I won't put up here. I learned a valuable lesson about having guests in Madland, at the expense of Em's intentinal tract. :)

As for work, we're coming out of the slow season, and back into rain, rice farming and school. I did a world map and a map of africa with some of the CEG students during their break, and am starting an english/environmental club - they want to learn an english song, so we're doing 'Waka waka' by Shakira - it was one of the World Cup promotional songs in africa, and I can't remember the last time a day went by without hearing it... if you can't beat 'em, join 'em! Looking forward to another year of life on this quirky little island. Lots of love - letter are in the mail, check your boxes!

xoxo chan

Five books I have read lately that you should too!

Homage to Catalonia (orwell). He went to Spain to report on the Spanish Civil War, and ended up fighting for the POUM.. a great insider perspective.

For Whom the Bell Tolls (hemingway) Also on the Spanish Civil War, never gets old.

Stones into Schools (mortensen) Made Hannah and I want to ditch the Peace Corps and go build schools in Pakistan! Ok not really, but a great, inspiring read.

The Lacuna (kingsolver) Mexico, Trotsky, McCarthyism, this book has it all.

Spud (van de Ruit) great coming of age story about boys in South Africa during the release of Nelson Mandela.

Yup. That's all you get today...... love from Mad! xoxo

New address:

Chantel Welch

BP 184

401 Mahajanga

Madagascar

**No worries to the people that have sent mail; I'll be in Tana next week grabbing mail, and they will forward any on up to me. Thank you!! I have letters on the way back:)**

All is well, just getting through my first Ramadan, which is both amazing and lame at the same time... I usually get cranky around 3pm, when I get really hungry, but then it gets better, and breaking fast is the best feeling :) Until the bellyache.. sigh. Ramadan is a Muslim holday acknowledging the month that Allah gave the Quar'an to Mohammed (sorry if I'm a bit off on any details), and one celebates from fasting from 3am-6pm each day (sunup to sundown) for a month. Some people get up to eat at 2.45, but I am far too sleepy, so I stick to the one meal a day plan. The harder part is not being able to drink water either, I get pretty cotton mouth by noon. The highlights have been learning how to cook gasy foods with various families, going to mosque, meeting new people and generally further confusing my community (why is chantel wearing cloth on her head??). Other than that, growing veggies, working on a world map, making cookstoves and planning a future reality tv show with Kelly/ Two Girls, Ten Goats, and a Whole Lotta Cheese (patent pending!). Lots of love, chaaaaaaaaan

Oooh, scaaaaary... I still am not a fan of heights, especially bridges that hang over tsingy (limestone rock formations), and in a country where I'm not too sure about the security regulations... so of course I had to go first. This photo was at Ankarana, a Parc Nationale just south of Diego. In later Juneearly July I headed north on a business trip (met with an NGO in Diego that works with Moringa, built cookstoves and did a tree grafting sessions), and then slowly made my way back to Katsepy with a group of four other PCVs. Stayed in a beach house in Diego, a hotel on the beach in Ankify (sense a pattern here?), completed the first Tour de Brochettes in Mahajanga (round two is in the works), watched many a World Cup game along the way, saw a crazy Gasy lady break bottles and a lightbulb at a restaurant.. at noon.. met amazing people, got ripped off by taxi brousse drivers (mandainga foana izyreo!!), watched the sunset, the sunrise, laughed so much my stomach hurt, and then returned home for a wedding (previous blog), a soccer tournament, and good times with my Gasy family. More soon - lots of love from Mad, glad to hear that things are going well in the States and abroad. My first guest is coming next month - I am beside myself with excitement :) It's going to be fun to see Mad through her eyes, and get an outsiders opinion, as I now feel (finally) like an insider. xoxo chan

"Our lives teach us who we are." -Salman Rushdie

Trying to get photos from the wedding; mora mora (slowly slowly)... On top is the ladies cooking lunch, we had four - five large pots going at any one time... The bottom is a traditional partof a muslim wedding, with the women clicking sticks together to accompany the music. Beautiful colors!

My fellow PCV Jennie and I went to a new house (trano voo voo) party in Mahajanga, and impressed everyone with our gasy dancing skills.. and by impressed, I mean "we gave them the gift of laughter". Peace Corps.

All my love from Mad, xoxo chan

sorry as usual about the length between blogs, to add to the confusion, I am going to skip over my vacation north (which was AMAZING, will get to that soon), and dive into the wedding that took place in my town (specifically in my backyard) the other day. I live in a little gated compound with my host family (ooh fancy, I know), and their son came up from Antananarivo for three days of wedding related festivities. Not only were there lots of new people and faces, but as this was a Muslim wedding I was able to get a crash course on two cultures at once! Multitasking at its finest.

The first two days were fun and filled with lots and lots of food... I winnowed more rice in these three days that in my entire stay in Mad so far. The best was that every half hour someone how to comment on how gaga I was over the amount of rice (which I hadn't noticed until they pointed it out), and then they would all laugh... over and over. Rice and beans and coconut, freshly slaughtered beef - a friend gave me a raw chunk to season with salt and then cooked it over the coals for me.. I managed to only eat about half of it, as visions of tapeworms danced in my head.

The third day was the actual ceremony, so we ate breakfast (tea and bread), prepared lunch, and then headed to the outside of the mosque to watch the procession of the men from the mosque back to the house. Everyone was wearing their finest lamba, bright colors and sequins sparkled as we walked together and clacked wooden sticks. Back at the house I sat through a couple hours of a ceremony in mixed Arabic and Malagasy, followed by more food, and traditional dancing. I took a break around 4 to go watch the boys play soccer, watered my garden, ate dinner, and just when I thought things were winding down (around 8), I heard singing in Arabic. Out beneath the tent sat two lines of men, singing and doing a traditional Islamic dance, while the women congregated behind and did their own chorus and dancing. I got to join for three hours of this (of course we ate bread and drank tea as well, wouldn't be proper without food), and I would have to say that it was the highlight of my time in Peace Corps thus far.

xoxo chan

This was a whole blog I typed up in July and though was lost forever when the computer crashed.. turns out that google blog is smarter than I am, and auto saves drafts. Technology. A bit old, but covers my vaca north.

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Sorry about the delay, hope this blog catches you up a bit on life in Madagascar... I had IST training at Lake Montasoa in May, and while it was good to see the other volunteers and share stories, it didn't really send me back to site with the information that I was looking for, so I returned in a bit of a funk.. plus, fater slacking on speaking gasy for two weeks, I was much less mahay, which never makes for a good return; ('mahay' is sort of the equivilant of 'to know'). Luckily, I only had a few weeks before I took off on my first vacation/business trip to the north.

Met up with two fellow PCV's, Sara and Nicki, in Mahajanga and celebrated Nicki's bday in style - brochettes by the ocean, WC soccer, and many a lukewarm THB (Madagascar's own Three Horses Beer, written in english but you pronounce the letters in French.. go figure). Headed north to our friend Katie's site, where we added another chatty vazaha to the crew, causing the taxi brousse passengers to comment on how much we talked. Hit Diego and had a meeting with Sun For Life, an NGO that works with the Moringa tree, is very interested in collaborating with Peace Corps Volunteers, and sent us away with a cadeau of 17 kilos of seed!! Very exciting. My counterpart at site wants to start a tree club, so hopefully I can interest him in Moringa. Next stop: Brit's site for some cookstove building, tree grafting, and World Cup soccer watching. Luckily, her neighbors provided us with a 48 hour party (aka loud music blaring all night).

Back to Diego - met up with a few PCVs who were on their trip before they left the country, having finished their 6 month tour as Peace Corps response vols. Crashed in a beach house for the night, then hopped down about 100km to Ankarana, a national park with lemurs, chameleons, tsingy (awesome limestone rock formations), and BAT CAVES! The caves were amazing - I'm sure that it's not good that we were able to do what we did, but we got to climb waay back in the caves and scramble around. There were spiders that inspired Nicki to develop a new fear, sparkling rock beds, creepy noises, and no other people around.. not something that you can usually experience at a national park.

Fahatelo: Ankify, aka my new favorite place ever. Three days, two nights in a beach house, swimming in the ocean, eating delicious brochettes, manioc and coco... are you noticing how much food is mentioned here? Our trip was the northern madagascar brochette sampling tour. Sara and I walked to the Port to Nosy Be for breakfast and met a guy who had knoa former PCVs in the area.. he showed us the path and even took us by his house -to the surprise of the people there. Not every day you show up with two white girls in small town Mad.

After Ankify we headed back to Mahajanga, and then I went home, the end of a great trip, but luckily I had a big event in town to get me right back into the swing of things - my Gasy Parents' son was getting married! Three days of celebration, all in my backyard.

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Since I already wrote about the wedding I'll cut out now... lots of love to all! xoxo tiz

Hello! Sorry about the length of time between blogs, but c'est la vie when you are living without a computer or internet access... it was weird to chat with my dad the other day and have him instantly look up info for me "Oh, Books for Africa, their website says...." he said, as I planned my trip to the Cyber Cafe two weeks out.

Life is good, although I'm in the slow and frustrating slump right now. It's time to get some projects rolling, but finding motivated people to work with can be challenging. A lot people act interested, but when it comes to follow through... definitely a struggle. Luckily I have a great counterpart who is interested in making Mango Jam - both a practical and feasable project, so hopefully we'll get cracking on that soon.

I think a lot about what it will be like to come back to the states in two years; how different things are and how I have become accustomed to a lifestyle here without really realizing it. For example, the other day I was telling my mom the other day how much fancier my house was than the other houses in my town, and between my squeal of "ooh, a BIG cockroach!" and my explination "I mean, my house has some metal walls and stuff," I realized that maybe I've just become used to a little different standard of living. Not in a bad vs good way - I love that I don't have tv here, so to watch world cup games i plop down on an overturned crate and watch a small (although color!) tv with as many other people can crowd around it. Yesterday I was in Mahajanga watching on a HUGE projector screen, which felt super fancy (jejo!). Cameroon lost and will not go on to the next round, hence the title... hopefully one african team will progress! Well, off to lunch and to catch my ferry home. Much love to all, near and far, hope that you are happy and healthy. Will try to get photos up soon. xoxo chan

Six months in, and Africa is really starting to feel like home. I had a great week, actually having legitimate conversations with a few people, and capped it off on Sunday evening by sitting with a group of friends on the beach, frying up cassava and eating it with a papaya-tomato-citrus-water salsa; looking at the stars above and the lightning in the distance. There are a million things that I randomly miss about the states, but it's also easy some days to imagine myself living in a little grass hut in Katsepy forever.

On the flip side, I don't think I've gotten a full night's sleep since I left America... a combo of being on mefloquin for anti-malaria reasons (causes you to have insane dreams, like the one on Saturday where I was being chased through someone's house by a bear with cow horns...), and of the rats who so kindly have moved into my house to keep me company. Apparently rats will eat anything, including my paints, handkerchiefs, anti-itch cream, soap, and one bite out of my apple. Yes, I still ate the rest.

The photo is of Emily teaching Nene how to weave mats (like the one she is sitting on). Emily is great, her family has adopted me, and I spend a lot of time at their house... she also informed me recently that her husband's younger brother needs a wife, so if I'm interested, hahaha... I told them that it would interfere with my plans of moving to Spain and marrying a football player. Once again, dodged the marraige bullet in Madagascar.

heaps of love, chan

That's right folks, it's almost June 11th ,and you know what that means... WORLD CUP 2010!!! Can't wait. You see, my town has electricity each day from about 6 pm to 10 pm (game time), and they wheel out a tv each night that you can sit on the ground or on the wall and watch, so I won't have to miss a minute! It's the little things. I've had some chaos as of late, my house was broken into and my money stolen, then the owner of the house gave me a 7 pm curfew (so the town is building me a new house, long story), but the moral is: kala suru. Have patience. This will all be funny someday. It's actually funny already.. sort of.

Today I came to mahajanga to meet some of the PC crew up visiting, and at 11:30 the Baka (ferry) left the shore... circled back and picked up a cow that was hog tied and floated over, left again... circled back to pick up someone's duck who had tried to escape by throwing itself overboard, but was captured and returned to it's owner.. third time was a charm and off we went. Only 30 mins behind departure, not too shabby.

Will try for photos tomorrow, xoxo! chan

Mahajanga, day two.. It's been great to be in town catching up with Esther, Joanna and Devyn, volunteers who live south of me that I haven't seen since January. Spent today wandering around, eating gelato and buying veggies that I can't find in Katsepy. It was FREEZING this morning... finally got Esther to agree that it was low as 75, but she was leaning towards 80. The glacial breeze was what pushed me over the edge. Luckily the clouds cleared and the sun bumped us up to a much more reasonable temperature.

Can't think of anything too interesting to write, I'm putting in my garden and should have veggies popping up in a few weeks.. found a boat that goes north to Nosy Be (20 hours) that I want to take in Aug/Sept (hint hint, Em!), Jennie and I are hoping to do a 180km bike trip to Soalala in July, while the roads aren't big mud pits, and I can bumble my way through Gasy a little easier each day. Life is good. xoxo chan

We visited the rainforest back in December and saw some lemurs...I want one! Oh, and a frog as well.

I love my town. Katsepy is an utterly amazing place, beautiful and filled with wonderful people. With that said, I could not wait to get out of there this morning and head to Mahajanga for three whole days of REAL conversation with english speaking friends. It is so frustrating to not be able to express yourself fully day after day, and this week I hit the point where I actually felt like I as regressing in my Gasy. Kala Suru (have patience).

The week started off great, with Fete Vevavy - Int`l Womans Day! It was a big deal in our town - the women didn`t work, and off course they slaughtered a cow and we all got to take a chunk home.. I tried to convince my mayor that I didn`t eat meat, and therefore did not need enough meat to feed a small army but off course off i went with beef on a rope. Next came what was supposed to be lunch with my mayor and a few other important people of the town, but somehow turned into beers before noon. I hadn`t had a beer yet since going to Katsepy, as I wasn`t quite sure of the culture (being a half muslim town) but my mayor assured me that it was "fomba gasy". I think I endeared myself to him at that point, as he now knows my name. Thank you THB! Next came a soccer match, followed by a dance party which I left at 230 am while it was still going strong. All in the line of duty. Peace Corps.

I have been spending a lot of time in the rice fields, transplanting and weeding, and last weekend I planted cassava and pineapples so I`m feeling a bit more like I'm not just here to socialize. A family that lives about 3km up the beach has adopted me, so I now spend saturdays at their place, drinking coffee, farming, learning how to cook gasy food, napping by the ocean, and last week they braided my hair. They also have a big party planned for when my parents come to visit (Em I'm sure they'll have one for you as well:). Life is good.

Well, of to wander around mahajanga... I love and miss all of you, and hope that things are going well wherever you are. Aussie pals - I'm tentatively planning on christmas 2011 in the Sydney area, so start your shopping early! xoxo chan

Hello from Madagascar! Sorry this will be a short post, as typing on a french keyboard is beyond annoying... besidest that, life is great! Madagascar is an amazing country, and somehow i ended up living on the beach in the northwest, with coconut trees in my yard. Literally. My town is small and full of fisherman with the occasional french tourist wandering through... I think that they have finally realized that I am here to stay and not just another vazah passing through. My language is slowly getting better, although the ups and downs come frequently. :) I am going to try to get photos to upload here so you can see a bit of the land but if that does not work then come see for yourself! hehe.. much love to you all, chan

“The magic of travel is that you leave your home secure in your own knowledge and identity, but as you travel, the world in all its richness intervenes. You meet people you could not invent; you see scenes you could not imagine. Your own world, which was so large as to consume your whole life, becomes smaller and smaller until it is only one tiny dot in space and time. You return a different person. Many people don’t want to be travelers. They would rather be tourists, flitting over the surface of other people’s lives while never really leaving their own. They try to bring the world with them wherever they go, or try to recreate the world they left. They do not want to risk the security of their own understanding and see how small and limited their experiences really are. If we don’t offer ourselves to the world, our sense dull. Out world becomes small, and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don’t lift to the horizon; we don’t hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days. Travel, no matter how humble, will etch new elements into your character. You will know the cutting moments of life where fear meets adventure and loneliness meets exhilaration. You will know what it means to push forward when you want to turn back. And when you have tragedies or great changes in your life, you will understand that there are a thousand, a million ways to live, and that your life will go on to something new and different and every bit as worthy as the life you are leaving behind.” –Unknown

I hate to start with a cliché, but it is impossible to express in words what these six weeks in Niger have meant to me. After having been in country for just a few days, we were assigned to host families in local villages, and sent off to learn both a language – either Zarma or Hausa – and the Nigerien culture. I was able to spend two and a half weeks living with my Zarma family, and it gave me a whole new appreciation for people who have learned second languages through practical experiences. Nothing is more frustrating than not being able to express yourself, especially when you’re all on your own. My host family was great – I had four younger siblings, one of which I’m convinced was my guardian angel, as he appeared out of thin air whenever I was lost.

In our third week, I had the brilliant plan to ride bikes into the main village where about 25 other trainees were living and see how they were doing. My five Zarma cohorts and I rode over, had breakfast and lunch and read in the Peace Corps garden while waiting for the weather to cool enough to bike the 11km home. When we went to leave, however, we found that due to a “situation” we had to go up to the training site and stay the night. As news trickled in, we learned that there was an attempted kidnapping of American Embassy workers in the Tahoua region, and that we would all have to stay on site while the situation was assessed. Eventually, as intelligence was gathered and PC Washington weighed in, the decision was made to remove our entire training group and relocate us to Madagascar in December. It was not an easy decision for our country director to make, and she has shed many tears over the PCVs and trainees that have to leave.

For our part, we were 37 people stuck in a small training compound for three weeks – reality TV show, anyone? Luckily, the fact that we all chose to say “yes, I would like to serve in the poorest country in the world, where you bathe from a bucket, use a hole in the ground as a toilet, and sleep under the stars for two years” means that we all have at least something in common, and being here has made us ridiculously close and strong – we will not need team building exercises in Madagascar! Sadly, being on site with our amazing training staff has given us more time to learn about Niger, and grow close to a people and a culture that we will have to leave behind. I’m not trying to sugarcoat the country – of course there are bad people, and lazy people, and all of the things that you find all over the world that exist in Niger. It’s the amazingly motivated people; the farmers who work sunup to sundown to grow food in nutrient-deprived soil, the women who pound the grain, draw the water from wells 30 meters deep, care for their multitudes of children and still have time to ask you questions so you can learn the language that stay with you.

New address:

Chantel Welch

Corps de la Paix

BP 12091

Post Zoom Ankorondrano

101 Antananrivo

Madagascar

xoxo chan

A quick hello from Niamey! I spent the last few days with a Peace Corps Volunteer at her village. She has an amazing site, and gets to work with ICRISAT (International Crop Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics), so we went and grafted Pomme de Sahel trees and got to see all the work they are doing to improve crops in Africa.

Thanks for all the bday wishes! I had a great day, we packed up a picnic lunch and walked 7km down to the Niger River and ate under some huge old mango trees. It's surreal to see so much green, when the villages that we've been staying in are so dry.

Well, off to eat lunch and then back to my village, so no internet access for a while. Sorry this blog is a bit sub-par today, I stil need to organize my thoughts before I can really write about what has been going on. Africa is beautiful, hot, dusty, everything I thought it would be and nothing that I thought it would be. I have seen amazing sunsets, and goats strapped to the top of bush taxis. Live goats. I'm learning Zarma, which is something that I never thought I would say. I love it. I'll try to answer everyone's emails when I'm back and have more time. Love to all! chan

It's here! Time to finish packing, try to snag a few hours sleep and trek over to Philadelphia for Tuesday's training.

I can't help but laugh every time I remember talking to my friend Laura and her husband Mark at the NOLS sale last spring. At the time, I thought that I was headed to South America for the Peace Corps, and Mark made the comment "As long as you don't end up in the middle of the desert somewhere, like Chad." We all chuckled and I tucked that moment away in my memory, not to be remembered until several months later when I tore open my Peace Corps invite and saw "Niger" on the cover. For those of you (like me) who are not too familiar with Western African geography... Niger borders Chad. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you irony.

I started to come down with a case of the nerves this afternoon - what if I can't learn the languages?? What if I forget how to grow things?? What if Air France loses all of my luggage?? Luckily, my friend Ahnie called to save the day. Ahnie and her husband Jeff were Peace Corps volunteers in South Africa a few years back, and she had an answer for every worry. To top it off, she told me that she and Jeff have been researching plane tickets and are planning to come visit next summer; I'm looking forward to it already.

Well, off to pack. I won't have internet access for at least a couple of months, so I wish you all a Happy Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthday, and whatever else is coming up - oh let's say in the next year. Don't blame me, blame the African postal system.

hugs, chan

p.s. one last photo from Hatcher Pass this morning - some crazy looking ice crystals!

Two weeks left in Alaska! The snow is slowly creeping down the mountains and I'm hoping to get out on skis or my snowboard before I leave... because I'm pretty sure I won't be using either in Africa.

To update those whom I haven't been in touch with lately (sorry!) I'm headed to Niger, Western Africa for the next couple of years to do agriculture programs with the Peace Corps. In a nutshell, the Sahara Desert has been creeping outward for the last 5000 years and farmers in the surrounding areas are having problems with raising their crops in the ensuing droughts. On top of that add in a lack of roads and transportation, the wrong kinds of foreign aid (donations from overseas that crash the local markets), and subsidies to western farmers that prevent African farmers from competing internationally, and you can imagine the struggles that these farmers face daily. Our job will be to do whatever we can to work on maximizing rainfall (storage) and to find new crops and/or strains of current crops that produce higher yields. I'll be in a small village somewhere (200-1000 people) and all I know is that I won't have electricity or running water but on the plus side I do get my own mosquito net, so I've got that going for me.. which is nice.

So, I know that you're all dying to know where you can send me awesome packages full of photos and soccer updates and non-meltey candies. My address will be:

Chantel WelchCorps de la PaixB.P. 10537Niamey, Niger Africa

hugs, chan