One of the things I love about Madagascar is the rhythm. Because there are no time saving devices, there is a natural rhythm to each day and the people go at their chores in a slow and steady way getting everything done with energy to spare.
I was standing on the balcony at the hospital (a lovely place of quiet refuge), and about 80 metres away, among many other houses, is this yellow house, bungalo, 2 windows, made of brick with cement overtop. There is a little girl there, probably 9 yrs old who I enjoyed watching at play yesterday. She is all arms and legs and reminds me of my granddaughter, Emma.
At about 5 a.m. this morning the mom comes out in her nighty and takes each chicken out of the nighttime basket, ties a string to each ones leg, attached to a little wooden outhouse at the other end, and lets it go.
Then she gets the knife from the house and chops off bits of wood to start the charcoal cooking fire. She moves the charcoal cooker away from the house, starts the fire which smokes and blazes, and while that happens she gathers her buckets and goes to get the family water for the day.
Returning, she moves the stove closer to the house, gets the rice to pick through and throw up to get chaff out, puts the rice for breakfast on the charcoal. Then she puts on the same clothes she wore yesterday and begins the long job of watering the garden. Barefoot, a watering can in each hand she makes the trip down to the stream and back up for each row, taking about 45 minutes. Time to notice how everything is growing, listen to the birds, enjoy her own thoughts.
By now the rice is cooked and the rest of the family is starting to be seen brushing teeth outside, washing feet, getting to the outhouse, carrying a bucket to the shower room. I presume she will go to work and the family will go off to school etc, and I will see them again at the end of the day as they collect their little shopping bag and go off to buy some rice to go with their vegetables for supper. Then they’ll sit out together and just watch the goings on around them as the sun sets, and they enjoy an evening meal before bed.
I don’t know what appeals to me so much about all that? Maybe it’s the physical activity, or the peaceful surroundings, close to nature. Maybe its the existence of all the people who share the community space and who let kids play around their house, not worrying about who’s kids they are or when they’ll go home. It reminds me a bit of my youth, where all kids were on the street playing from dawn to dusk, reluctantly going home for lunch and supper.
Here there are still babies crying and kid’s voices, mingled with rooster crows and some singing somewhere, probably a smell from the outhouse etc., but life seems to have meaning and one is not alone, but surrounded by others going about their business and greeting each other. A couple of men sit down on the bank for a chat….an older sister puts two hands on her younger sister’s shoulder as they have to pass a barking dog behind a fence. Another young girl sits braiding her sister’s hair. There is human touch, security, sharing, just being, without judgement or criticism. I just love it.
Compare it to home, empying the dishwasher, putting on the coffee pot, pouring cereal or putting toast in the toaster…..somehow it doesn’t seem that we have earned the enjoyment of eating? I don’t know? Is it just too simple, too cheap, too easy, too expected, so that when there is a problem, like no bread in the house we feel put out instead of relishing in the abundance and rich flavours and sensations all around?
Problems here are big, deal with survival, but the people do what they can and leave the rest to God, knowing that death is always a possibility and so life is so much the richer.
At home I spend part of my day impatient with the line at the bank, worried about whether our car needs major work, fussing about our heating bills, etc etc. Seems that try as I might, many more negative thoughts enter my mind in Canada than when I am living here. Too many choices…too many advertisements, too much to think about! Maybe it’s because I’m still part tourist, on-looker, able to do some helping here?
In any case…it is a wonderful change and makes me feel like I take away more from this experience than I give.
Kathy

The community behind the hospital