I’m in Sambava to welcome two new
environment volunteers to my corner of Madagascar. Having more Americans in the area is
exciting. Ultimately, it means that I’ve
been a PCV for a year now. Thursday will
officially mark my one year anniversary in Ambohimanarina.
What does one year of Peace Corps service
mean? It means halfway to the end. It means 12 months of living in the midst of
a foreign culture. Hundreds of cups of
rice and dozens of new foods.A new language.Many new friends and family members.
I also now can enter my second year with
some sense of what to expect. I already
know the name of that strange fruit in the market. On vingt-six
I’ll be ready with my new outfit and Malagasy flag hanging in front of my
house. I’ve gotten used to shopping in
the market. The kids have gotten used to
visiting to play with my HotWheels.
My life here is one where a neighbor girl
runs down the hill with a grapefruit peel hat, a sight as absurd as it is
hilarious. I stop on my walk to take a
video of a chameleon slowly crossing the deserted road. It’s normal to have a conversation about the
chicken standing nearby—how it’s beg enough to eat, how you would cook it. Somehow I don’t think I’ll every quite know
what’s coming next.
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