Reny amin ‘ny Batisa- “Mother of the Baptism”

“I’m going to be a mother!” I happily informed my mom on the telephone after wishing her a happy Mother’s Day.

“A godmother?” my mom inquired, not thrown off by my proclamation that could have been taken to mean a number of other things.

“Yes!  Haha.  How did you guess?!  I thought you’d at least think I was adopting a Malagasy baby when I told you the news.”

I was so excited to share this news with my mom, especially since it was Mother’s Day.  The day before, Miko, the fiancé of Mama Jeannette’s son Dera, came up to me while I was washing my clothes and asked me to be her son’s godmother.  “Tsy maninona!  Faly be aho,” (“Of course!  I am very happy!”) I told her.  I felt honored and surprised that she asked me to be Joshuano’s godmother, especially since I’m going home in two months and won’t be around as he grows up.  Even though I won’t be physically in Madagascar, this gives me another good reason to stay in contact with Jeannette and my Malagasy family and come back to visit.  I also want to continue to pray for Joshuano and his parents as they raise him up to know God’s word.  He is only four months old right now so he won’t remember me or know much about me when he’s older, but I pray that he knows the Lord and His love for him.

My godson, Joshuano, and I after his baptism

Joshuano was baptized on Pentecost Sunday along with about 40 other babies.  As the godmother I got to take him up to the front of the church and hold him as the pastor poured the water three times over his head and gave him a blessing.  I honestly don’t cry much, but I had to hold back tears as I took part in this joyful day.  I was sad knowing that I wouldn’t get to see him grow up, but also happy that he was officially becoming a part of God’s family.

Everyone waned a picture with the newest member of the family!

With the proud parents, Miko & Dera

After taking lots of pictures, it was time to celebrate.  Mama Jeannette hosted almost 50 people at her house for a delicious lunch of chicken, goose, carrot and cucumber salads, and lots of rice.  There was also a grand four-story cake that Jeannette had made.  Miko helped me cut the first slice and then it was my job as the godmother to pass it out to the guests.  The room was full of conversation, laughter, and dancing, which soon spilled outside where all the kids had gathered.  The kids really know how to dance!

It made me happy to see everyone having such a good time and reminded me of how thankful I am for my family here in Madagascar as well as my family back home and all those in the world who are my family in Christ through baptism.  I am thankful for the Holy Spirit that connects me to this great big family, whether they are 9,000 miles away in America or right here in Tulear, Madagascar.  I have been amazed at the way the Holy Spirit has worked in my life over the past 9 months and pray that I continue to stay aware of God’s presence in my life during these last two months as my Malagasy family and I continue to accompany each other in this journey.

Miko and I cutting the cake

All the kids dancing outside after our big lunch

Ten Questions for a Malagasy Lutheran Pastor

I just returned from a weeklong meeting of the FLM (Malagasy Lutheran Church) for the Tulear Synod.  I was a guest of the Synod President, who is a pastor at the same church I attend.  While we were at the conference, I sat down with him to ask him some questions so I could learn a little more about what it’s like to be a pastor in Madagascar.

1.    What is your full name?

TRABONJY Alson, Pastora  (note: in Malagasy the “last name” comes first)

2.    How many years have you been a pastor?

60 years

3.    Where did you go to seminary?

Betela Morondava and Ivory Fianarantsoa

4.    Did you grow up in a Lutheran family?

Yes, my grandfather was a pastor and my father was a teacher at the Lutheran College.

5.    How did you know you were called to be a pastor?

I was not forced to be a pastor but I felt Jesus calling me through the Holy Spirit.

6.    What is the best part about being the Synod President?  Hardest part?

The best part is getting to lead and teach others.  The hardest part is leading the other pastors in the synod.

7.    Have you been to America? 

Yes!  Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  I have also been to Norway; Nairobi, Kenya; Cameroon; and South Africa.  

The Synod President with his wife and I posing by a blanket he got while visiting Pittsburgh

What did you do there [in Pittsburgh]?

I visited the Pennsylvania synod.

What is your favorite American food?

Pizza

How do the FLM and the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) work together?

The churches have a good relationship.  We have worked together on many projects such as building a dispensary in Ankasoabo, buying a car for the synod, and sharing a typewriter.  (for more on the ELCA’s relationship with Malagasy Lutherans check out this News Release:  http://www.elca.org/Who-We-Are/Our-Three-Expressions/Churchwide-Organization/Communication-Services/News/Releases.aspx?a=5283 )

The Madagascar volunteers got to meet the bishop of the ELCA, Rev. Mark Hanson (back right), and the director of global mission, Rev. Rafael Padilla (front left), when they were in the capital of Madagascar signing a partnership agreement between the FLM and the ELCA.

8.    In your opening to the synod meeting you said that Jesus finished the work of his Father and it is our job to do the work of the Lord (John 17:1-5).  What is the biggest thing the FLM needs to do as a church?

It will be a long time until we finish the work of the Lord.  We don’t finish this work now.  We can’t be completely satisfied until Jesus comes.  For now, we have several development projects in health and farming.

9.    What do you do when you have free time?

I rest at home and help my wife.

10. What is your favorite verse in the Bible?

John 3:16- “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

 

My Malagasy Mama and I at the conference.

Thanks to my Malagasy Mama, Jeannette, for translating for us!

Cake au Beurre

This week I learned how to make cake Malagasy style.  It’s called “Cake au Beurre” (Cake with Butter) and is sold at many of the kiosks or shops throughout Madagascar.  The woman who taught me how to make this cake gave me the recipe in French and metric measurements so I put the English and approximate US measurements in italics.  The baking time may also need adaption since we baked over charcoal rather than in an oven.

 

Ingredients:

Farine Flour                       1 kg (4 cups)

Beurre Butter                    125 g (1/2 cup)

Oeufs Eggs                       5

Sucre Sugar                      ½ kg (2 cups)

Levure chimique Brewers’ yeast            1 package (4 tsp)

Lait au yaourt Milk            ½ L (2 cups)

Vanille Vanilla                    1 lid

 Procedure:

1. Mix flower and yeast in a bowl so that yeast is evenly distributed
2. Add remaining ingredients of sugar, eggs, butter, milk (cold), and vanilla and mix (with hands) until you can’t feel any sugar granules
3. Spoon batter into oiled/greased metal pans until about half full or cupcake tins until 2/3 full
4. Cook on charcoal (200^OC/392^OF for electric) for 20-30 minutes; the cake is finished when golden brown and “manitra” (smells good)

 

I enjoyed making the cake not only because it was delicious and I learned something new, but I got to spend time with this woman and her family.  I got to see how she spends a normal day since she sells the cakes for a living.  We talked some but mostly I just watched.  It was a good thing I paid attention because when it came time to make the second batch, she wanted me to do it by myself so I could practice.  While we waited for the cakes to bake I got dance lessons from her daughter and one of her friends.  They turned on rock music and we practiced barefoot on the living room floor.  They also invited me to stay for lunch and I gladly accepted.

This was a good day for me because I felt truly present with the woman and her family at a time when I’ve started to think about going home more.  I’ll be home in less than 4 months so I can’t help but start to think about what that will be like for me.  My mind has been wandering to home more often lately and I want to make sure I stay present in my community here.  During that morning making cake, I felt like I was soaking up all that was being poured into me by my friends and the communion we shared.  It reminded me to slow down and just enjoy “being” without worrying about tomorrow or going home in August or what lies in my future.  I left the woman’s house that day with cake and rice in my stomach, dust on my feet, and joy in my heart from living in the moment and being thankful for all that surrounded me.

“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  -Psalm 118:24

Redefining Vocation

Hiking in Paradise with YAGM volunteers Sarah, Lee, Hannah, Luke, and Jane and country coordinators Austin & Tanya

This month I went on a weeklong retreat with the five other Madagascar volunteers and our two country coordinators (plus their dog Puba) to the mountains of Andringitra National Park.  It was absolutely beautiful.  We slept in “tents” and enjoyed a lot of time in God’s creation.  We went on several hikes, saw ring-tailed lemurs, swam under a waterfall, played sardines, had a campfire, shared devotions, worshiped by the river, ate all our meals at a restaurant there, and talked a lot about vocation.

The “tents” we stayed in on our retreat to Andringitra National Park

Ever since I found out that I was not accepted to medical school this year I have felt anxious about my vocation and future, but the retreat really opened my eyes to what vocation really means in my life.  I had a revelation.  I have always thought my vocation is very obvious and that I am meant to be a doctor.  I saw vocation as a calling that God reveals in our life through people, experiences, His word, or the gifts that He’s given us.  It is more than a job and is something you are passionate about.  Since I was a little girl I’ve thought that being a doctor is my vocation because I find joy in anything relating to caring for people’s bodies, minds, or spirits.  I light up when I’m around medicine or serving someone in that way.  For example, I have found so much joy in going to SALFA clinic every Wednesday.  I love it so much that I rearranged my teaching schedule so that I can go on Friday’s now too.  I love the people and the feeling that I’m making at least a small difference in people’s lives.

Me and the nurse at SALFA clinic who give vaccinations to the babies every Wednesday and Friday morning.

Chameleon Mountain- Do you see it?

I still believe these things about vocation but during one of our discussions I realized that vocation may have a broader, slightly different meaning.  I realized that it is not always directly connected to a job or occupation.  It is any gift that God has given us that gives us joy, such as singing or being a mother.  I thought about this when one of the other volunteers shared that he wants a “vocational occupation.”  I asked him the difference between a “vocational occupation” and just a vocation.  He explained that a “vocational occupation” is a job that includes your gifts and passion in life but also pays a salary, while a vocation is just the gifts that God’s given you.  I had always thought of them as one and the same thing.  Now I see that my vocation of wanting to care for people, especially their health, could be pointing me toward many different careers.  The realization that God may be calling me to another area of medicine or something different all together scares me.  Maybe the vocation that God has placed so strongly in my heart is leading me toward something different than becoming a doctor.  I don’t like this very much especially when I see signs in my life that may be showing me this, like getting rejected from medical school.  It’s frustrating and I get upset with God sometimes but I also still believe that He has a plan for me and it is the best plan for my life.

I have come away from the retreat with a less limited view of vocation.  I am thankful for the gifts God has given me for serving others.  And what better way to use my vocation than right here and now in Madagascar?  I get so much joy here and it is preparing me for a future filled with serving others and being served in return.  I still have lots of questions and pray for peace and patience as God continues to reveal his plan for me.  I believe this year is an important part of that journey and that people in my life will help me discover my path.

Worshiping in God’s creation

Power of a Storm

If you’ve ever been in a thunderstorm so strong it shakes your house or stepped outside in a blizzard that has turned everything white or even experienced a hurricane, then you know the power of a storm.  After surviving the cyclone that struck Tulear last weekend, I can now say I understand this power.

The wind and rain arrived on Friday, knocking out the power and filling the streets with water.  I was invited by my American friend, Tessa, and the other Baptist missionaries living in Tulear to stay with them for the night.  I gladly accepted as I looked out the window at the trees bending to the ground.  I quickly packed an overnight bag with a change of clothes and my toothbrush and threw my duffle bag with my books, pictures, computer, chargers, electronics, and money on my bed.  I didn’t think this was totally necessary, but I remembered my mom’s advice about moving things off the floor if the cyclone hit.  At Tessa’s house I was safe and it felt like a big sleepover as we watched movies, played cards, cooked American food, and occasionally got on the internet when the neighbors switched on their generator, but this feeling quickly went away the next morning when I got a report from some of the Baptist missionaries that had gone out to check on everyone’s houses.

There was a lot of damage and flooding to the area.  The roads were very bad and many people’s houses were destroyed.  There was no power or running water anywhere in Tulear.  When they went by my house they couldn’t even get the car all the way back to the house because the water was so high, but Nathan waded back there in the waist high water.  He broke into my window since the door wouldn’t open and went inside to look for the bag that I had mentioned was on top of my bed.  He told me that there was about a meter of water inside that just came up to the top of the bed, so thankfully my things were dry even if a lot of my other clothes and possessions were completely submerged.  Nathan also grabbed my running shoes, which were floating around the room.  Later he went back for my passport that I had hidden in a bottom drawer as well as my malaria meds, bible, pictures, and a headlamp that my dad gave me.  I wanted to go see the house for myself, but they didn’t think it was safe.  I ended up sleeping at their house for three nights.

The power of the storm was obvious when I looked around at the destruction that it had caused and heard a report that over 150 people had died, but I was also reminded of God’s power.  I realized that He could have easily calmed the cyclone with His words like He did when He and the disciples were out in a boat during a storm.  He told the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” and the wind immediately died down.  The disciples are amazed and asked each other, “Who is this?  Even the wind and the waves obey him!”  His power is greater than any natural disaster and greater than any fear or worry that I had about the storm.

After the storm, I also realized the power of service.  It felt natural to go to the other missionaries’ houses to help clean out the mud, but I wasn’t fully prepared to receive this same service from them.  On the first visit to my house, they let the water out and helped me hang up all the muddy clothes.  On the next visit they scraped three centimeters of mud off my floor, put the mattress on the roof to dry, and bagged up my clothes so that I could wash them at their house.  Witnessing a group of friends spend hours getting my house back in order and looking back at all they had done for me during the storm was overwhelming and humbling.  I have learned what it’s like to be on the receiving end of service and the power this had when I felt helpless about all that I faced after the storm.  I learned to receive as well as give.

I was especially thankful for the safety and support that my friends showed me because my site supervisor, Jeannette, was away at a conference in Antananarivo.  Now that she has returned there is a lot of cleaning to do at her house and throughout Tulear.  When the waves of adversity wash over me it’s tempting to give in to self-pity or just give up.  Fortunately, God is always with me, holding my hand, and working through the people around me.  I am trying not to worry too much about tomorrow and the challenges it will bring and instead live in thanksgiving for the strength He gives me in the present.  I have the feeling that this cyclone will shape the rest of my time here and continue to remind me of God’s power and love.

I will be posting some pictures of the aftermath of the cyclone so check back soon!

 

Light in the Darkness

My dad and grandpa cooking ribs together when he came up for my graduation last year

Back in November I wrote about the celebration of Fety ‘ny Maty (Party of the Dead), so I hope it won’t seem morbid that I’m writing about death again.  I just found out on Wednesday that my Grandpa Griewisch passed away.  He suffered a stroke last year and had been declining in health ever since, so his death wasn’t completely unexpected to my family and I.  It was still hard to hear that he is gone because this is the first grandparent that I have lost and I am so far away from my dad at a time when I just want to give him a big hug.  It’s also hard because, like many of you, he was so supportive of what I’m doing here in Madagascar, and even continued to ask about me when my dad made trips down to Florida during his most difficult times.

 

When I found out about my Grandfather’s death, I immediately shared it with Jeannette, my Malagasy mama.  Ever since, she has prayed for him at every meal and said a special prayer for him one night before I went to bed, asking God to be with my family and me since I’m so far away from them right now.  It means a lot to me to have her prayers and I know she understands because her sister just died in January from cancer. 

 

Her sister’s name was Jeanne Kaoline.  She was only 44 years old with three kids when she died at a hospital in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar.  Jeannette left Tulear three times to make the 12 hour trip to Antananarivo to be with her sister during her treatments.  After her sister died, the body was brought to Tulear for the funeral and burial, which I attended.  Before the funeral though, there were many preparations that are part of the traditions here.  Jeannette spent two nights in the room where here sister’s body was being kept and received visitors during the day.  The visitors brought flowers or money to make a contribution to the family.  Many of the people who came also prayed, sang, or just sat for a while in the room where Jeannette’s sister had been laid on a bed with a net covering it and flowers placed at the end.  This was a hard time for Jeannette and she got very sick afterward.  At the burial, the casket was lowered into the tomb and each person tossed a handful of sand on top of the casket.  Jeannette explained to me that this is done so that the friends and family can make a contribution to her burial and that it means “veloma” (goodbye).

Traditional flowers and net covering the bed where the dead is placed until the burial

Jeannette and I greeting other visitors in the room where the body is kept

 

During the past couple days I’ve thought about what I will miss about my Grandpa.  I asked Jeannette what she misses most about her sister and she told me her sister was generous, quiet, a problem solver, and a friend.  She will be missed by Jeannette, the students that she taught biology to, and those she helped as a treasurer for a group at the high school for teachers in Tulear.  Even though it can be very sad to lose someone you love and there is a solemn feeling during this time of Lent as we anticipate Jesus’ death, I know we can look forward to the resurrection that comes on Easter.  I know that those we’ve lost are also raised as it says in Romans 6:5, “For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”  They don’t celebrate Lent in Madagascar, but I still find myself encouraged by this season of hope and the promises that it holds.

Luke, a fellow YAGM volunteer, and I in traditional funeral “lambas” or cloths

A Day in the Life of Kate

I’ve come to realize that I’ve never talked about how I spend an average day here in Tulear, Madagascar.  Since I’m almost halfway through my year, I think it’s time for me to share what I do on a typical day.  So, here is a day in the life of Kate:

6:30 AM- Get up and go for a run, usually around the dirt track near my house

7:30 AM- Shower/bucket bath and get ready for the day

8 AM- Eat breakfast with Jeannette* (rice, egg or vegetable, white bread, & tea)

8:15-10- Help with the children’s class at AFILOFITO (the training center where I live), which includes singing, praying, learning letters/numbers, and lots of playing

Playing games with the children’s class

10-11:30 AM- Teach at the Lutheran College (a high school) on Mondays and Fridays or meet with my Malagasy friend/tutor Johnson

My friend Johnson

1 PM- Lunch with Jeannette (rice with meat/vegetables/beans & sometimes fruit for desert)

2:30-4:30 PM- Teach English at AFILOFITO

BREAK!- skype with family/friends, read, play with Jeannette’s grandkids, “help” in the bakery (I usually just go to taste the food), prepare my lessons, clean my house, meet with friends, or sleep

6-7 PM- Teach English (3 nights a week with the advanced class & and 2 nights with beginners)

7:30-8:30- Eat dinner (rice-of course- and fish)

My mosquito net “princess” bed

11 PM- Tuck in my mosquito net and go to bed

*Jeannette (aka my Malagasy mother) is my site supervisor.  I don’t actually live in the same house as her, but in a separate building next to her house.  I use her bathroom, eat all my meals with her, and spend time in her living room with her grandkids.

My Malagasy Mother and I on her birthday

This is a “typical” day, but on a typical day there are almost always surprises or unplanned adventures.  Also, I teach at the blind school on Tuesdays and I am at the clinic all day Wednesday (my favorite day!).  The weekends change, but I usually at least wash my clothes on Saturday and go to church on Sunday.  People here are on “Malagasy time” meaning that they are usually never on time for events and instead they trail in anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour or so late.  As a Type A person, this was hard at first, but now I’m starting to learn to just “be” and embrace the unexpected.  These times often end up being fun, teaching me something about the way of life here, or allowing me to meet someone new.

When I think about the unpredictability of my days here, I am reminded of one of the devotions that I read this month in Jesus Calling by Sarah Young:

“Try to view each day as an adventure, carefully planned out by your Guide.  Instead of staring into the day that is ahead of you, attempting to program it according to your will, be attentive to Me and to all I have prepared for you.  Thank Me for this day of life, recognizing that it is a precious, unrepeatable gift.  Trust that I am with you each moment, whether you sense My Presence or not.  A thankful, trusting attitude helps you to see events in your life from My perspective.”

Christmas In Tulear

Singing at the children’s Christmas program at the church

In Madagascar the celebration of Christmas begins well before Christmas day.  Of course the first Sunday of Advent, which fell on the Sunday after I returned from the retreat, marked the official start to the time of preparation for Christmas, but the children at the church began preparing Christmas songs long before that. They practiced every Saturday and Sunday with their Sunday school classes by repeating their songs over and over and learned dance moves.  I got to teach the oldest class “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and “Silent Night” in English, and they taught me “Alina Masina” (Silent Night) and another Christmas hymn in Malagasy.  On Christmas Eve, I attended the children’s Christmas program where I finally got to hear all the songs they had been working on and perform with my group.  Except for one moment when the leader of our group decided to put the microphone right up to my mouth during Alina Masina (essentially making it a solo!), it went well.  Silent Night is my absolute favorite Christmas song so I was thrilled to get to sing it in two languages.

My English students at our Christmas party

I had also taught Christmas songs to all of my English classes and the children’s class I help with every morning.  On the Friday before Christmas when Jeannette and I hosted a Christmas party for my students, they spontaneously broke out into song, singing one of the songs I’d taught in class.  Luke, the YAGM volunteer from Ambovombe, Madagascar, was also there, so he joined me in singing “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and other English Christmas songs.  We made bracelets for the children that would come for their party the next day, ate cake, drank home-made juice, and talked with each other in a mixture of English and Malagasy.  I gave a short speech thanking them for coming to AFILOFITO to learn English and being good students.  I love the personalities that each of them brings to the class so I hope they return in January.

Singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” with the children

The next day Luke and I helped with the children’s Christmas party.  I gave another speech and then just played and sang with the kids.  I was so proud when they successfully sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” for all their parents and family members at the party.  Luke took a great video of it so I could share it with my parents as a Christmas gift.  Luke also helped make little bags of candy for the students using an old-fashioned iron that you had to put charcoal in to heat.  He used it to seal almost 70 bags of candy!  We gave these out along with the bracelets, stickers, and cake.  I hope that each of the children went home excited about Christmas and feeling the love that we were trying to share with them.

Luke making bags of candy for the kids using an iron to melt and seal the plastic

By the Christmas tree at my church on Christmas morning with Jeannette and Luke

In many ways Christmas day didn’t feel like Christmas because it was so hot outside, there were none of the familiar American traditions, and I was far away from my family, but it was still a special day.  Giving lots of gifts is not a part of a Malagasy Christmas, so instead I spent time with Jeannette’s family and went to church.  I couldn’t help at least giving each of Jeannette’s grandkids some candy, since that is a typical gift that children get at Christmas here.  Jeannette surprised me with a gift as well.  She had sewed and tie-dyed a beautiful shirt and pair of shots.  We had a delicious lunch of pork, green beans, leaves of sweet potatoes, carrot salad, and mangos.  I also made a traditional “Christmas tree” cake with Jeannette.  It ended up looking more like a brown log, but it tasted delicious.  I enjoyed learning something new from my Malagasy Mama and spending time with her.  It was my first Christmas away from my real mother and family, but this Christmas I received comfort and joy from being included in the family traditions here.

With YAGM volunteers, Jane and Luke, wearing the tie-dye shirts Jeannette gave us

Jeannette and I with our “Christmas tree” cake

Welcome Back: Water Guns to Weddings

It has now been two weeks since I arrived back in Tulear after going on a retreat with the other YAGM volunteers.  I worried about what it would be like to return to my placement site after leaving it for the first time since arriving in September, but I have been blessed by the “tonga soa” (welcome) that I received and the continued feeling of acceptance in my community.  If you want to see a few highlights from our retreat to Mananara Nord, a beach on the east coast of Madagascar, check out Austin & Tanya’s (my country coordinators) blog for a beautiful reflection and pictures: http://sambatra.wordpress.com/2012/12/09/be-still-on-retreat

Striking a pose while enjoying the new water guns

The warm welcome and feeling of being back at home started almost immediately after I arrived.  It is a custom in Madagascar to bring a “voandalana” (street fruit), or gift, from the place you left to the place you are going.  I brought back cloves, apples (since you can’t buy them in Tulear), and water guns for five of Jeannette’s grandkids.  Water guns are not your typical voandalana, but it’s hot in Tulear!  They were excited about them right away and wanted to have a photo shoot with their new toys.  I certainly enjoyed them too and was happy to let them shoot me with cold water.

One of the nurses I work with at SALFA clinic who helps vaccinate babies

SALFA clinic is another place where I feel blessed to volunteer and work alongside the wonderful nurses every Wednesday, but recently I found myself as the patient being cared for by Dr. Emile, the head doctor.  It was only a minor allergic reaction, but when I came into the clinic he stopped what he was doing to listen to me explain the problem in my broken Malagasy.  SALFA is a busy place so I was surprised that he took the time to listen to me.  He even took me down to the pharmacy and picked out two different medicines for me, telling me to take each of them twice a day.  I tried to pay the small fee for the medicine, but he insisted on giving it to me for free.  In a few days I found myself not only relieved of an itchy annoyance but also relieved of any worry that people in my community care about my presence among them.

My friend Marina, who helped me with laundry on Saturday

There are so many other examples of times that my friends, students, and “family” have reached out to me recently, but this past weekend encapsulates the way I have become wrapped up in the love of those around me.  It started early on Saturday morning when I began doing my laundry as I do every week.  I had my clothes soaking in the bucket and had just started to soap up my first shirt when Marina, one of Jeannette’s granddaughters, came over and pulled out one of my dirty running socks.  I thought that she would clean one or two socks and then get bored, but she stayed with me under the tree until all my clothes were cleaned and rinsed.  To be honest, she was much better at getting the reddish-brown dirt out of my clothes than I was.  A process that normally takes almost three hours was finished in less than two, including hanging the clothes on the line.  She could have easily gone to play with the other kids that morning, but she chose to put her little hands in my dirty laundry water and accompany me in a chore that I usually expect to do alone.

That afternoon for lunch I was invited to one of my student’s houses for lunch.  Agnes is in my advanced night class and had a birthday while I was away on the retreat.  Since I missed her party, she waned me to come over to her house as soon as I could.  She picked me up at my house and paid for a rickshaw to take us to her house so I didn’t have to ride my bike in the heat.  When we arrived at her house she introduced me to all her family and her mother sang and prayed with us before we sat down to eat.  There was so much food it could have been the Malagasy equivalent of Thanksgiving:  carrot salad, cucumber and onion salad, misao (noodles with vegetables), beans, rice, and chicken because I had told her it is my favorite.  When she served the chicken I took a few pieces and tried to pass it to her, but she refused it and said, “the chicken is special for you.” She kept asking, “why don’t you take more?”  “Agnes, voky be aho!  Afaka maka akoho ianao koa!”  (Agnes, I am very full!  You can take chicken too.”  She finally took some but it was clear that she thought the lunch was all about me.  Then she brought out bananas and mangos for desert and showed me an English DVD that she got for her birthday.  She also played English Christmas music for me and tried to give me a world map on her wall just because I had commented that I liked it.  Her mom prayed with us again before she escorted me home.  This amazing hospitality is very typical in Madagascar and it wasn’t the first time I felt like I was being treated like royalty.

The last event of the weekend that made me feel accepted and included was a wedding I attended.  The bride was one of Jeannette’s family members and she was baking the cake for the reception.  Even though I didn’t know the couple or anyone else going to the wedding, Jeannette invited me to come and also consulted me on how she should design the wedding cake.  When we first left for the wedding and arrived at the Catholic church I felt out of place.  Not only was I worried about what they would think about a random white girl attending their wedding, but I was very underdressed.  I didn’t bring proper wedding clothes to Madagascar and only have the skirts I work and teach in.  I couldn’t understand much of the wedding service, but things quickly changed at the reception.  I was included in the conversation and served a big helping of goat at one of the tables.  Then one of the girls grabbed my hand and pulled me out on the dance floor.  I danced with the other guests until it was time for the bride to throw the bouquet and cut the cake.  I found myself not wanting to leave when it was time to bid the couple goodbye and walk back home.  The couple wanted a picture with me and seemed happy that I had come.  I have a hard time imagining being excited about having someone I don’t know at my wedding, but the bride and groom embraced me as they celebrated their special day.  After being included in stranger’s wedding, I have no doubt that God is using the people here to reveal his light and loving character.

Me, Richie, Reyany, Mika, and Ledada on a walk to the Mozambique

Shedding Light on the Dead

Cleaning the graves during Fety ‘ny Maty

One week ago today you may have looked at your calendar and noticed that it was All Saints Day.  Here in Madagascar we celebrated Fety ‘ny Maty, which literally means “Party of the Dead.”  This is an important Malagasy holiday and everyone has the day off, so I cancelled all my English classes.

 

Flowers for sale by the cemetery

One of my site supervisor’s family members, Marcellin, who is also an English teacher, offered to take me to the cemetery so I could see their traditions.  I immediately said “yes” and we hopped on his motorbike and headed to the cemetery that I had passed many times before on my bike.  When we got there it was completely different from the lifeless, abandoned graveyard that I had seen before.  There were people and flowers everywhere!

 

I followed Marcellin to the grave of his younger brother who had died at age 19 from some kind of blood disorder.  The graves here are aboveground tombs and most of them have a cross at the head.  Some, like the one for Marcellin’s brother, have a gate or cage around them.  On Fety ‘ny Maty everyone comes out to clean the graves and remove the bones to rewrap them.  I didn’t see anyone remove bones, but almost everyone was scrubbing, repairing, or picking up trash at the graves.  It is also customary to bring flowers to place on the grave.  I didn’t know this so I came empty-handed, but I enjoyed walking around the cemetery to see all the graves decorated and clean.

Graves with flowers on them for Fety ‘ny Maty

 

When I asked Marcellin if this was a sad day for the people or if they were happy, he said that they were happy.  I have a hard time imagining being happy about going to visit the grave of my brother (thankfully he is alive and well though!), but when I looked around I didn’t see anyone who looked upset or mournful.  At least for the Christians, this was a day to celebrate the promise of eternal life after death and the hope that their lost loved ones are now in heaven.  Despite the setting, I too began to feel my spirits lift and even enjoyed some food as part of the festivities.  It was not at all what I expected when I arrived at the graveyard, but I am thankful for the reminder that I should celebrate life and rejoice with all the saints.