The cricket never sleeps

That is an ancient Malagasy proverb of great importance here; I have no idea what it means. Once again I would like to apologize for the lag of time in between posts. The problem, you see, is that a black goddamn hole in outter space is more plugged in than where I live. Not to say that's a bad thing... I've rather enjoyed living the past two months without english, cell phones, internet, or news. I'm now taking care of business in the capital of Tana and will be heading back in for another six week stint this weekend.

Here in Mad-Land people are kind of crazy. For example, there is a widely accepted rumor that the country's top presidential advisor is a centaur who lives underneath the ground of Ravolamanana's house. And everytime he advises the president, the president must sacrifice a human baby. Also anytime you go travelling away from home, like I am now, it is very much expected of you to bring back a voandalana or road gift to your neighbors and whatnot back home. Just some fruit will do, and if you don't bring it it's no big deal. But the people in my town go kind of crazy about it. Like my neighbors went out of town for a week while I was gone once, and I got back to town before them, and then when they got back they heard I was gone and were like 'where's the voandalana Justin.' YOU were gone longer than I was! Where's MY voandalana. But he's good people though. Or you kow how if your late for a class, or a meeting or something, you just sneak in the back row and try not to be noticed or interrupt? Complete opposite here. I was at an AIDS conference last week, a couple guys lumbered in right while this soft spoken Malagasy gentleman had the floor and was making a point, and the late guys go 'AKORY IABY!!!!!!' or 'how's it going'. But no one was mad. It's just the culture. Also unfortunately, as with many other African countries, a lot of country folk think that twins are evil here and if a set of parents have a set of twins they'll likely kill one of them.

The word 'fazaha' means foreigner. When we first got here the trainers told us this would likely upset us, being called 'fazaha' all the time. I didn't see why; I mean we ARE foreigners, and they had to undergo french colonization garbage so its understandable if they are skeptical of foreigners at times. But then when I got to site last December, my thoughts on all that changed a bit. I am THE ONLY white boy for hundreds of kilometers in any direction; so needless to say, I stand out. Old people, young people, men, women, everyone says 'Salama fazaha.' At first I didn't mind, I just said hi right back. But sometimes kids would just point at me and scream 'fazaha'! Or some punk on a bike will speed by leaving himself just enough time to say 'Bon Jour fazaHA' in a really cynical way and not give you any time to respond if you wanted to. Now does that sound nice or pleasant? So I was begining to understand how fazaha could get annoying. Plus, I mean if you see any foreigner in the states and want to say hi, do you walk right up and say 'Hello, foreigner!' Or if you even just want to get around them, would you say, 'excuse me, foreigner. I need to get by.' No you wouldn't, would you... It might be considered rude. Different cultures? Yes. Do I understand that? Yes. is it still annoying sometimes? Yes.

At first I would just ignore the cynical 'fazaha' calls, then my language got a little better I got a little more confident and settled, had more friends to back me up, I started responding with my name is Justin, my name isn't fazaha. Nowadays in those situations I may tell them to f*$k off, or tell them they're rude or something. Last week I was walking to work. I stopped to talk to my street vendor friend Hary. While chit-chatting a truck full of workers rolls by and give me an annoying-sounding 'fazaha'. I yell after them which elicits laughter. Then I walk down the street a little more and a 5 year old starts pointing at me and screaming fazaha. Still salty from the truck before I walk over to her older brother, tell him my name is Justin and his sister is being rude. I say it over and over again to make sure he understands. He just smiles and nods. I walk away fairly agitated. I don't make it ten steps before a tobacco street vendor says 'over here, fazaha!' I flip. I JUUUST storm over to her and bitch her out royally, and she looks genuinely surprised I was so offended and was fairly apologetic, which I didn't expect. Then the next day I saw her again and she was like 'Hey, Justin. How's it goin'?' And we chatted a bit pleasantly. So that's like one less I have to worry about, I guess I sort of had a victory there. Each day gets easier anyway.

The picture of me is me presenting my host dad with some certificate of some kind commemorating my stay with them at a fare-thee-well dinner. Anyway I should run. Next post probably won't be until April, fyi.

This is Justin Selb with the BBC reporting live.... from Faluja.
(Or with PC from Antananrivo)