Another long travelling day, but shorter than yesterday and with a few more stops. First stop was at a zebu horn factory. That didn't quite do it for me, but I must admit the jewelry was impressive. One of our group said if they were going to kill an animal at least they are using it all and I guess they are right. At the same place they make wooden carvings and ornaments which were ideal for taking home (hopefully Customs will let them through).
We drove past more quilted landscapes, visited a silk weaving co-op (silk worms live naturally in the wild) and went to lunch at a family home. It is here we tasted true Madagassy food for the first time. A smorgasbord of rice, vegetables and meat followed by bananas and rice tea (made by boiling a pot of water with burnt rice at the bottom). It's all cooked on a fire upstairs. From the outside the kitchen windows are stained with soot. Two windows on opposite walls are strategically placed to make best use of the prevailing wind. I wondered why chimneys aren't used. There are plenty of bricks around. After lunch we walked for a couple of k up the road. I wasn't sure if it was to give us exercise or to reduce the risk of the bus failing to get up the hill. Whatever it was, we enjoyed it and decided to walk a little bit further.
The landscape had changed. More haystacks. More police on the road, some with guns and even some road spikes.
We stopped at a town, home to the rickshaw. We felt a bit guilty refusing the offer of a ride but we had been sitting a lot of the day. We wandered up the long main street past another old railway station. Here we were told about the poinsettia, one of Madagascar's favorite plants. Fold the leaf and the shape roughly looks like the island of Madagascar. The plant also influenced the flag of independence (1960) ie red (hope), green (serenity) and white (purity).
And more driving. Some houses had corrugated or tiled roofs now, rather than thatched. Many were half constructed which in some countries might indicate a downfall in economic circumstances but not sure what it indicates here. Bicycles ridden with bags of charcoal on the carrier, women carrying heavy loads on their heads. An occasional zebu pulling a plough. Almost every thing is labor intensive. We have seen one tractor on all our travels and that was on the back of a truck. Labour comes free. No diggers or harvesters for these hard working people. If you are rich you have zebu. When a woman leaves her family to marry into her future husband's family zebu are given. Young people are the shepherds and walk zebu - where are they going? If a zebu has a yellow ear tag they are going to market - a tag means they have vaccinations and certified as healthy. If they haven't got a yellow tag possibly the slaughter - I kept on hoping another grading place.
Barnabas our guide asked us if we wanted to walk through a market. We all said yes - anything to get off the bus for a while. I soon regretted it. Hoards of people crowding into a small place in this town called Mahaleotena. The smell of dried fish and butchered meat sent me back to the main street pronto. Harry and I stood by the bridge and it was a wonderful experience. Locals all said "salama" or "bonjour". An elderly woman shook my hand and then kissed it with a welcoming smile. This is blanket country. Many locals are wrapped colorfully (apparently with shorts and teeshirts underneath). Above the blanket is often a cap, straw hat or scarf. Colours appear to be gender neutral- no pink for girls and blue for boys here.
And while we are talking about clothing.... shoes
... most don't wear them. If they do its flip flops or sandals. I have only seen one person wear a pear of trainers (if you don't count the little boy who was wearing only one). And many carry a stick. If they leave it somewhere it means "I will be back for lunch".
While waiting for the others and between greeting the locals we played "how many people in the vehicle?" Its a new game invented by us and it is difficult to find the winner. A 16 seater could have as many as 25 squeezed in but I have a feeling there might be more sitting on knees and hanging off the back.
And then onto another landscape which could be in the Scottish highlands. Little Croft-like houses with the first sign of spring.
And to our digs. We remember this one. We always seem to get the furthest away cabin. We didn't mind. Along a stone path edged by flowering bushes (home to a rather large Camellion) and stream. It was drizzling but we decided to walk through the village, across the swing bridge to have a look at the thermal pools.
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