travel is good for the soul

Two years ago today, I arrived in Philadelphia for orientation. Two years gone by!

Well, things are not official, but I hope they will before the end of this business week. According to the office in Tana, I have the job of PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader) in Fianarantsoa for next year (June to June 2008). This is pending medical clearance. I have appointments on Thursday and Friday. The problem is the ear infection, which isn’t so much of a problem anymore. Peace Corps Washington decided they really didn’t want to take out the permanent tube. Surprisingly, we’re on the same brain wave on this decision. In taking out the tube, I risk having complications from the minor surgery, then really having to go home. I took a different round of antibiotics; the gooping stopped. So I just plan on pushing for clearance, which I will assume will be given without a problem, until I hear differently.

Anyway…

Even in this Peace Corps assignment, there are times when you don’t feel like you’re traveling or living exotically, just because you can get used to ANYTHING. I feel very much at home in my village, and one gets caught up in the daily tasks of village life. You are not on vacation. This is just living life, working your projects and dealing with complications.

Last week, I got a call from Nirina, who I’ll be working closely when I end up in Fianar that I should come up and go on site development with him. The new Environment volunteers arrive next week, and the final look over of the new sites (villages) have to be completed, so we need to know that the house is built and yes, there are indeed people in the village who want to work for the volunteer, not just a mayor.

It was such a good trip.

The landscape in this country is so breathtaking. From time to time, I can forget! There should be a reprimand for each time I do not enjoy a sunrise, sunset, rainstorm, or a tranquil starry night. And the landscape and the weather can change so dramatically so quickly. I went from Fianarantsoa to Androrangavola to Manakara to Fanarafangana to Vondrozo. None of these places are the same, but are all within 200 km of each other (divide by approx. 2 and you’ve got miles if you can’t deal with km). Any volunteer who lives along the way gets a brief visit, I suppose to let us know if something’s the matter or just a message needs to get out, since most people have little to no communication at site. I don’t. I really enjoy arriving unannounced at people’s doorsteps. In this kind of remote world, any visitor is always a welcomed visitor.

The land that really took my breath away is the grassland south of Manakara (the end stop of the train line). The yellow-green to neon-green with every green-in-between grass blankets the hills that look like hands creeping out from underground, laying flat as far as the horizon. Between the fingers are groves of ravinala (it means leaves of the forest), a palm that is a bit of a national symbol. It is an enormous two-dimensional fan of palm fronds. But hundreds of trees. Thousands.

No people. It took me almost half an hour to realize what was so strange. No villages. Nothing. Maybe the land is unusable for farming. The remoteness was exhilarating, freeing. I don’t know if there’s any way for me to find out why no one was living there, as I won’t be moving there to try my hand at farming the land. Nirina and I rolled down all the windows of the Peace Corps Land Cruiser and played classic American rock (his preference in genres), Led Zepplin, ACDC, Guns n Roses.

If I have one recommendation to you, it is to travel. See it all. See it again. Go live there. Then go home but never forget. Repeat.