The Wayfaring Wordhack

For weeks now, I've had a particular moment on my mind, moment that centers me and brings me calm. I don't know why it has been my constant mental touchstone of late, but it has.

It comes from a day on our river trip in Madagascar in May 2009. We woke with the dawn, as you tend to do when sleeping in a tent, just in time to see other canoe guides, already free of their passengers, making the return trip against the current. They poled in time to their song, the music barely reaching our ears through the morning mist.



Of course an imparted memory can't be the same as a lived one, but perhaps someone will find joy in this image, too.

G'night, LJ

Smell is one of the most powerful memory triggers for me (and most people, I believe). For example, the fragrance of rain soaking the parched Texas soil, dripping off creosote bush and greasewood reminds of me of a magical day when a plethora of baby frogs came out to frolic in the blessed moisture; and because I smelled this same fragrance in another place, a second memory follows on the heels of the first: the time I tried to run away from home.  I must have been six at the time, and I got tired of dragging the cardboard box of my belongings so I gave up and went back to the house. 

But yesterday, it wasn't a smell that took me down memory lane as we picnicked by the Loire. It was a taste.

I've never been big on sardines, canned or otherwise, but during our last trip to Madagascar, we had to eat cans and cans of them.  A five-day canoeing/hiking/sightseeing tour we took included food, and the food of choice for our guides was sardines. I won't say I grew fond of them, but I did overcome my original skepticism concerning their edibility when that was all there was to be had.

So, yesterday, when Julien decided to eat sardines for our picnic, I grabbed a box for myself. And the taste took me right back to Madagascar and one day in particular.

We had just finished the three-day canoeing portion of our trip and, while waiting for our oxen-drawn carts to be loaded, had lunch just outside the "village" (three shacks, a boui-boui--hole-in-the-wall restaurant or street-vendor type eating establishment--and a dirt ramp leading down to the river to accommodate canoeists who can go no further due to the shallowness of the water).   

The village children gathered around us, hanging back just far enough not to incur the wrath of our guides, as they waited for us to finish our sardines.  As soon as the fish was gone, a child would run forward to accept the can still full of oil, which they would drink down with delight, then,  with grimy fingers, scoop out any remaining bits of sardines and seasonings.


It was a bittersweet thing to witness standing, as we were, at the chasm that divides those with too much from those with too little.

ETA: My love is the one who took these photos, btw, not moi. I'll try to remember to attribute next time. :P

Our trip to Mada got off to a most propitious start; our tickets said check-in was at 9:30 and the flight at 11:30, arrival in Antananarivo (hereafter "Tana") at 12:15. Our plane left an hour late, and instead of the posted 45 minutes, the flight took 1 hr and 45 mins. However, as we flew over the delta around Majunga (Mahajanga), with its startling graphic array of reds and greens, we were no longer thinking of the tardiness. There were only 26 or so passengers aboard (capacity 60+), so we bounced freely from window to window snapping pics. 




At the hotel, we made arrangements to leave early the next morning for Antsirabe to begin the adventure leg of our trip. And my, what an adventure it was...

 If I wasn't feeling so icky, I guess I would be feeling harried. We leave for Madagascar tomorrow morning, and I have yet to clean the house, yet to pack my bags, yet to finish a half a dozen projects that need my attention. But the three weeks of mora mora (taking it easy) in Madagascar have already started to work on me. No stress; no worries, man. Be happy.

So, no me until the 4th of June, and maybe not even then, for lo, Julien tells me that we must pack and do our inventory for our shipping container ON THE 4th if we want it to leave the 15th. And, due to popular demand, I will be at the market to sell my jewelry on the 6th. I foresee lots of fun times in my future.

In the meantime, ya'll be good now, ya hear?

ETA: LJ, we have a cut!

One more Mada photo entry (after this one), and I'll be ready to share La Réunion with you all. These are photos of our boat ride from Ambariomena to Kalakajoro (joro means "wish") and Berafia (which means "store"), two of the Radama Islands. A map of our journey and the corresponding travel log (paragraphs 12-14) can be found here.



More pics (the last ones!!!!) tomorrow.
 

Back from my birthday trip. Enchanted. In love with Madagascar. Brimming with terrific memories. Resonating with the beauty of the people and land. Tired--and I've already had a night in my own bed to recover. I'll post more once things have had a few days to simmer in my own mind and spirits.