Madagascar

Sunday, March 11th
Antananarivo, Madagascar

I arrived here late on the 9th after an afternoon flight from Nairobi to Mauritius and then Antananarivo. I wasn’t sure at times that I was heading to the right place but I made it. I guess the full city name is a bit too much for many visitors so they shorten it to various names like Tana or Rivo or Tanarivo (which I think is what the pilot was saying because at one point I thought I might be heading back to Tenerife on the Canary Islands.) Anyway, I was met at the airport by the DoDo Travel and Tour rep. I’m not sure why anyone would call their company DoDo, especially when there certainly aren’t any Dodo birds in the country, but that’s their name and perhaps I, as the tourist, am the Dodo. It was nice to have someone at the airport waiting for me as it was a bit of a zoo with lots of people trying to lure people into taxis, and there didn’t seem to be any central control point. I was hesitant to pay for the transfers since they were so expensive but now I’m glad I did since it was close to midnight when I got to the Tana Plaza Hotel and the process was very hassle free.

The Tana Plaza Hotel is right across from the train station and at the start (or end) of the Avenue de l’Independence, which is a wide street with center boulevard of park area and statues. You could probably get 10 lanes of traffic down the street and still have room for parking and sidewalks but they have left it as a very nice open, green space instead.

Much of the city is green. There are trees in many streets and on the sides of streets and on hillsides, and there are many parks with flowers and benches or with lakes and walkways. It’s very hilly as well so every view looks green and fresh.

I went for a walk both yesterday and today. I think the people on the front desk think I’m weird for walking instead of taking a taxi but I definitely need the exercise after several months of cruises and bus trips and safaris where you sit all day long and eat a lot, whether you need it or not. The front desk folks think some of other areas aren’t safe but so far I’ve had no problems. Besides, who is going to try and rob a stupid looking white female in hiking boots, Tilley pants, light shirt under a long sleeve blouse (to save on sun screen) and wearing sunglasses and a safari hat. – all in mixed colours. I look like something out of an old safari movie – a really bad old movie And I have no valuables with me – just my camera of course and a little change in case I need to buy something like an ice cream cone. If someone looks at my bulging pockets suspiciously I just take out my water bottle and have a drink or my camera and take a picture. After that I’m sure they know I’m not worth bothering with. So far the only problems I’ve had are with the street vendors and the local children who keep asking for money. I must have said “no thank you” and or “no, merci” a thousand times on my two walks and today was quiet because it’s Sunday.

And of course my ignorance was showing again in that I did not know that Madagascar was once French and therefore French is their main language. I really feel stupid when I can’t speak French and yet it’s one of our official languages. I couldn’t even get the waiter in the restaurant to understand my room number last night and I thought I could at least handle numbers like 4 –0-7. Perhaps I should just chalk it up to the difference between Canadian French and Madagascar French.

Yesterday I just walked down the Ave de l’Independence, went into the Pavilions du Zoma or market area and walked back again. The Avenue was very busy with Saturday shoppers and the market was packed. The vendors on the Avenue tried to sell me things and followed me around but the shopkeepers in the market just ignored me. I think it was obvious to them that I was just a tourist looking around and not buying, while the locals were all busy actually buying things.

Today I went down the avenue to the tunnel Ralaimongo, which I walked through and then on to Lac Anosy. I walked around the lake and went out to the Monument aux Morts, which is built out in the lake. I didn’t do in to the actual monument because there were about 10 guys sitting outside and their spokesman said admission was 5,000 Malagasy Francs or Ariary. That’s only about $3 Canadian but I was quite sure there was to be no charge and I just didn’t like the thought of going into an enclosed area with the 10 of them at the gate on the outside and more of them visible on the inside. What I could see was all in French and Malagasy so I said there was no use of me going in as it wasn’t in English, and I just took a picture and walked around the little island. The folks back at the hotel later confirmed my suspicion that there was not charge to go into the monument.

On my way back from the lake I went through the tunnel again to Ave de l’Independence and part way back took the steps (Escalier Ranavalona) up to Place de l’Independence. It was a beautiful park on the top of the hill with great views of the city. The trees were very shady and the roses were beautiful and the benches were very relaxing. I sat there for a while and enjoyed the scenery and refreshing breeze until two young guys smelling of alcohol decided to come and join me on my bench when several other benches in the area were free. They didn’t say or do anything but it was a bit too cozy for me so I headed back down the stairs and wandered home. And let me assure you that I’m seldom walking on my own if that is what you might be worried about. I generally have an entourage of vendors and little children with me on each side and in front of me. They are all very polite so they’re quite bearable – not like some I’ve encountered in other areas an- and although they’ll stick with you for a long time, they do accept “No” for an answer. You might have to say it a thousand times but eventually they leave you alone.

The streets are all paved, at least in this area of town, and they have sidewalks. However, you still really have to watch where you’re walking. There are often large 2-3 inch holes in the sidewalk and the drop at times is 2-3’ down. There are almost always full of garbage, which might soften one’s fall but the landing still wouldn’t be very pleasant. They also have uneven sidewalks at times and broken sections and uneven stairs so it helps to keep your eye on where you’re going.

The town has many large modern buildings and 5-6 storeys are not unusual. My hotel has 6 storeys and is very nice inside. It’s a 3 star hotel. The room is small but very clean and comfortable and the bathroom is very new and modern. I even have phone, TV and air conditioning in my room, which is something I haven’t had for a while. Other hotels I’ve walked past in this area don’t look near as nice so I’m glad I’m where I am.

The train station is right outside my window. I wandered over there yesterday hoping to find some tourism info. Well, the building is large and European looking with a big clock tower but it is also all closed up. That might explain why I’ve not heard or seen a train since I arrived.

The street outside my window is Rue Rainibetsimisaraka and I’m glad I’m writing it and not pronouncing it. Other avenues nearby have names like Rainandriampandry and Rianampoinimerina so I think these folks could give the Welsh a run for the money on long names.

Anyway, the street outside my window is interesting. The first night when I looked out at about midnight there were people sleeping on the street and they had a small fire going between them. It also appeared they were selling something but I couldn’t see what and there was no one around to buy anything.

Every day the scene changes but there are always people selling things. Today I can see T-shirts, sports clothes, running shoes, baseball caps, sandals, fruit, something in white bottles, sunglasses, more clothes, pop, ice cream, food - hot and cold, bathroom scales – not for sale but for people to weigh themselves on and pay, watches, toys (model plains and trains), jewelry, flashlights, belts, purses, baskets, small wooden stringed musical instruments, cigarettes, lighters, etc. And that’s just what I can identify from my 4th floor window. To my left the vendors increase and eventually hit another market area I think.

Everything is just spread out on the sidewalk or hung on the fence or carried by the people selling it, and there are lots of people around buying. Some people only have 3-6 articles they are selling while others have lots. Some of the prices I’ve heard seem quite reasonable and some seem quite ridiculous. I assume bartering and exchange are expected. One guy wanted my boots today when I said I didn’t have any money with me. He wasn’t exactly selling shoes so I guess I was supposed to walk home barefoot or perhaps busy some shoes from a friend of his.

I am only on B&B here. Since I was right in town the logic was that I could eat in different restaurants each night. Well so far on my travels I haven’t seen many restaurants and any that I have seen I wouldn’t eat at. Now before you think I might starve, let me assure you that the restaurant in the hotel is very good. L’Avenue is a French restaurant with a very limited menu but it is safe.

There is food everywhere you go. I think the locals make the food at home and then take it to the streets to sell. I’ve seen chicken, beef, sandwiches, pastries, etc. but I don’t think I would eat any of them. The sandwiches are just sitting on a tray in the sun all day. They aren’t wrapped or cooled or anything. Some of the meat looks hot but it’s also just on a tray and the one fork, which seemed to be used by everyone down at the market, just didn’t seem too sanitary to me. I would be fine if they were just picking up the pieces of meat and putting them on an n individual plate but when the fork was going right into each mouth, I just wasn’t in a sharing mood. I think about the only things I could buy on the street would be well-sealed water, pop and candy.

I think I am now totally used to guys relieving themselves on the side of the road or behind buildings or wherever. It seems to be a very common practice in Africa. In fact George, my guide in Tanzania, seemed surprised when I even commented on it. His reply was simply, “don’t they do that every where?” I really don’t think he believed me that it was not common in Canada and might even get you arrested if the people around didn’t like it. Well, Mozambique has upped the anti a bit and I’ve actually seen a couple of squatters here, and keep in mind that I’ve only been in the city!

People also seem to cough a lot around here and never cover their mouths when they do. I know South Africa has a TB problem. I sure hope these folks don’t or it will be spreading rapidly. Luckily I haven’t noticed any problems around the hotel, which is where I’ll likely be spending most of my time and eating most of my meals.

Thursday, March 15th
Antananarivo, Madagascar

Boy, did I ever jinx myself with that first entry from Madagascar. This entry will be a very different one from the last but parts of it will seem like déjà vu from other previous entries.

On Monday morning I was up early to go on a tour with DoDo Travel to the King’s Palace at Ambohimanga in the morning and then a city tour in the afternoon. When they called at 9 a.m. to confirm, as opposed to already being at the hotel to pick me up) I knew something was wrong. They just wanted to make sure I was okay with paying double the stated rate since I was the only one booked for the day. I was definitely not okay with paying over $100 for a simple tour and lunch so told them to forget it.

The hotel staff was surprised they would ask double the amount since they wouldn’t have to pay double entrance fees at the Palace or pay for two lunches so one of the staff members started negotiations with the taxi drivers to get someone to drive me to the Palace and wait for me while I toured around. One agreed to a good price but my next problem was that I had none of their money. DoDo would take credit card payment but the taxi driver wouldn’t and neither would the Palace so I needed to get some cash.

So off I went to the nearby ATM machine but it wouldn’t take my bankcard. Not to worry because there is another one just 200 metres down the street according to the guard. (All banks or ATMs or currency exchange places seem to have guards in Africa!) After walking for a while and not finding the other ATM I went into the sister hotel of where I was staying to inquire. They assured me it was just down the street 500 metres. Since I’m sure I’d already come well over 200 meters, the first guard definitely wasn’t a good judge of distances! I eventually found the ATM and it also would not accept my card so I started back to the hotel hoping to maybe convince the taxi driver to trust me and drive me to yet another ATM to get him some money. This was not going to be an easy task since he didn’t speak any English. No one seemed to speak any English in Madagascar. The desk staff tried hard and occasionally got some parts right but it was definitely a struggle. Ah, but I digress.

In my rush to get back to the hotel and the poor taxi driver who was waiting for me, and I still don’t believe I’m having to say this but, I missed seeing one of those holes in the sidewalk that I was talking about earlier and I found myself on the ground. It was where 2 sidewalks were joining and they were only about 2” apart in their original levels. However, someone had taken the first tiles of the lower sidewalk out – probably to put in a proper slope or incline to join the two levels – but for now it was just a hole about 4” lower than the high sidewalk I was walking on and 2” lower than the lower sidewalk I was heading towards.

Now any normal person would just walk past this. They might stumble or even fall but they would catch themselves so it wouldn’t be a big problem. Well not me. I don’t stumble or fall forwards or backwards or sideways so I can catch myself. No, I just go straight down. Before I even know it’s happening I’m sitting on my feet on the sidewalk – or lack of sidewalk.

Some tiny old man offered his hands to help me up and I gratefully took them hoping that when I tried to stand I wouldn’t fall on top of him and squash him. Both feet hurt exactly where they hurt before. I made it up and over to the shop window and stopped for a few breaths and to assess the situation. I noted it was a bookstore. I made it to the next window not 6’ further and stopped again. It was the same store and I realized it was a Christian bookstore. I made it another few steps to the door and went in and flopped down in the nearest spot I saw, which happened to be their stool for getting books off the higher shelves. The shop was very busy but luckily no one needed the stool because I don’t think I could have moved.

I probably sat there for at least a half hour just trying to calm down, breath normally, stop sweating, sip some water and assess the situation. The nuns were all very patient and just ignored me. I think they probably thought I had just been out in the sun too long and would leave soon. Eventually I started trying to talk to them and one of them spoke broken English. We discussed where the doctors’ offices and hospitals were, where my hotel was, how I was going to get to any of these places and what help I needed. Eventually one of them helped me to their old beat up wreck of a car and drove me the two blocks back to my hotel – yes, just two blocks but I couldn’t have walked it.

The hotel folks helped me to my room and got me some ice and some more pillows to put under my feet and there I spent the rest of the day (Monday) while I tried to determine how bad the situation was. It was clear to me, being Dr. Brooks, that the left foot stress fracture was fractured once again. I could wiggle my toes and point and flex my foot but it was sore and swollen across the top of the foot and to the inside just as it had been before, and I was definitely not going to try standing on my toes anytime soon. Now you may be saying, “oh no,” but I was actually saying, “Okay, at least I know how to deal with this one because I’ve had this problem before.”

The right foot was a bit more questionable. Believe it or not it was my outer ankle again and it was swelled up and very tender to touch. Unlike last time; however, it hurt to stand on or walk on or bend in any way so I figured this was a d slightly different variation than before. I decided to just let it go for a while and see what happened.

Monday night I ordered room service for dinner and more ice for my feet. Tuesday morning I ordered room service for breakfast and more ice for my feet. And I really do have to add that ordering room service over the phone when no one speaks English and your French is really bad is indeed a challenge, especially when you also want some ice for your feet. That part really seemed to confuse them.

By Tuesday night I decided to try and go down for dinner. The swelling in both feet was down because they had been elevated for two days and been iced a lot of the time. The left foot was still swollen on the top and it was still warm, but I wasn’t surprised by that as I knew that lasted for months last time. The right ankle was looking better but was still sore and not wanting to bend. So I managed to get my boots on – a very slow painful process to say the least – and I walked down to dinner. Perhaps I should say that I shuffled off to dinner because I really was leery of actually moving either foot. When I got back and released them from the boots they were definitely more sore and swollen than before but after another few hours of being elevated they seemed to recover.

Wednesday I managed to go down for both breakfast and dinner and my shuffling was getting faster. It was obvious that I was not going to see a lot in Madagascar but I was still hopeful that the feet would be good enough to fly on Friday and that things would be better in Mauritius and Seychelles.

So how did I pass my time in Madagascar you might ask. Well, first of all I have to say that the bed was extremely comfortable so one could spend all day in it, not get stiff or sore, and still feel rested at the end of the day. I had a book that was really hard to get into so I tired reading that at times but generally it just put me to sleep. Then when I picked it up again I had to reread what I’d already read because it was so confusing. It was kind of like the never-ending story!

Then there was the TV. There were only about 10 stations and all but BBC News were in French. BBC reception was very poor so I really couldn’t hear any of what was said but I could read the screen as the headlines rolled by so I wasn’t totally out of touch with the world. There were 3-4 sports stations but the cricket and soccer didn’t interest me much. Most of the other French stations were impossible to follow. Movies are all dubbed in French so you can’t even hear the English. The Tom & Jerry cartoons were okay though. I could generally follow what was happening in them! And I also caught a couple of game shows. Their version of Wheel of Fortune was pretty easy to follow although the words were in French so I didn’t get many of them. I couldn’t even understand most of the categories! I did understand most of the questions and the multiple choice answers on the other game show that was sort of like Who Wants to be a Millionaire, so that was interesting and made me feel much better about my French.

A lot of the time I watched the clouds out of my window and they were pretty interesting. They have a brilliant blue sky and lots of clouds that fly by quickly. And they can be going in different directions too. They obviously have a lot of wind currents at different heights in the area. The clouds looked like rain several times but nothing developed until the last day.

I also went to the internet room a couple of times. Now there’s a real exercise in frustration. Not only do you have to wait for what seems like ages for anything to happen, but you also have to contend with a French keyboard. While we may use the “a” key a lot, they obviously use the “q” key a lot because the two are switched on the keyboard. The “w” and “z” are also switched, the “m” is moved somewhere else and strange new letters are added where you least expect them. It was like writing in a code but I was quite sure no one else would ever bother deciphering it so I had to fix it as I went, which took forever.

As a result of the strange keyboard, I ended up writing a lot of my blogs out long hand in hopes that the next few places had keyboards that were more familiar to me. So far Tanzania is all written up and I’ve now written all there is to say about Madagascar, which isn’t much. Egypt needs another day or two and it will probably also be completed. Maybe I just needed these foot injuries so I could get caught up with my writing.

Okay, back to the feet. You’re probably wondering why I didn’t go to a doctor or the hospital if I thought I’d broken or injured them again. Well, there were several reasons I could think of. One, I wasn’t sure I trusted the sanitary conditions in Madagascar so I was leery of their medical system. Two, likely no one was going to speak English and that presented a problem. Three, the most they could have done was put my foot or feet in a cast(s) or orthopaedic boot(s) and I really didn’t need that. I had my boots and they seemed to be working fine. I knew enough to stay off my feet and keep them elevated for the next while but when I had to move I could wear my boots so my feet and ankles were supported. The left one will no doubt take a long time again so I’m prepared for that. As for the right one, I planned to watch it and if it didn’t seem to be getting better I’d have it looked at later in another location where people speak English and the medical facilities are more acceptable. Heck, if I wait long enough I could be back in London visiting my friendly specialist there. He is at least already familiar with the situation.

As for the real sights of Madagascar, like all those cute little lemurs, other endemic plants and animals, and the King’s Palace, to name a few, I guess they’ll just have to wait for another visit. Boy, I wonder how many times I’ve said that on this journey. It may take me a long time to see all these places again.

That was the end but I have to add the following before I totally leave Madagascar behind. It was a later entry.

The ride to the airport was interesting. It was dark on the ride in so I really didn’t see much. This time the trip was in daylight so I could see the sights. Most of the area between Antananarivo and the airport is agricultural. There are many homes and small towns and villages all along the way but basically it is an agricultural area. And the main crop is rise. All of the fields as far as one can see from the elevated road, are covered in water and there are irrigation ditches and rivers crisscrossing in different areas. There are also little islands with 6-12 houses on them and some tented areas which are “government housing for the homeless, as opposed to campers” so the driver told me. The whole area was very green and picturesque even through the raindrops. It was quite a change from the rest of Madagascar I saw from my hotel room window in Tana, and made me realise again just how much I’d probably missed.