If it hadn’t been real before, it certainly is becoming real now. I am no longer a Peace Corps Trainee, but now I am a Peace Corps Volunteer. This blog entry is meant to sorta clarify what has been happening with the training stage and now my transition to volunteerness and saving the world. Ok, so, about 9 weeks ago I got to small town of Mantasoa with 41 other trainees, we all went to live with our Malagasy home stays, then 6 days a week we would have language/culture/technical training in small groups from 8am to 4:30pm , be home by 5:30pm help with dinner, speak Malagasy with the family, likely be asleep by 8:30pm, wake up to some form of pestering livestock around 5:30am and repeat the process. In the last few weeks the health trainees (as we never saw the education trainees anymore as we became specialized) have been giving weekly presentations in Malagasy on Friday mornings in the stead of language class. Each week you are given a few health topics that you can choose to talk about. 3 weeks ago it was a simple 5 minute presentation to the LCFs (language instructors) and other Health PCTs where I spoke about Malaria prevention. 2 weeks ago I had to give a 15 minute presentation in front of all the host families where I chose to discuss getting vaccines for newborns. 1 Week ago was the biggie. In groups of two, I had to give 2 one-hour long presentations to school classrooms. One presentation was to the oldest class- Terminal (the kids are about my age) about STI prevention and birth control/family planning. The second hour long presentation was to the 5eme class (maybe 12-14 year olds) where we discussed various aspects of hygiene. Then this week was more relaxed for the presentation, I had to give a 15 minute presentation to any group in the Mantasoa community about subject of my choice. I just had my host mom come alongside other women in the community (imagine a sewing club, but instead of sewing they all work the rice fields together, and instead of doing it for leisure, it’s a form of income). But you get my drift, a bunch of women from 40 to 50 who gossip and act like a Delta Delta Delta Sorority. So theyre a group of loudmouths, and I thought it would be a great audience to talk about AIDS towards, cause they would tell EVERYONE about it in their gossiping nature. Well, in typical Malagasy culture, they didn’t show up on time and missed my whole presentation. So that wasn’t a big hit and didn’t make any real strides in educating people that AIDS is real. (which a huge amount of the population doesn’t believe….).
So that’s been my presentation stuff. The presentation this week was pretty small, because the following day we all had our final language assessments. Wednesday morning I had a 20 minute recorded conversation with a Peace Corps tester in Malagasy about my life, their life, plans during/after Peace Corps, food/cooking, family, you name it. The interview concludes when you randomly pick a card that has a scenario which you must act out in Malagasy. Mine was (paraphrased): “you had purchased an item for your moms birthday last week, but you realized that your sister had bought the same thing. Explain to the seller the problem and return the item”. So I had my conversation and then all the staff has to evaluate your language skills as they all listen to your recorded conversation, making you wait for a day to figure out if you passed. To be able to pass and get to site/become a PCV I had to get language skills at “intermediate high” the requirements for health volunteers, where the education volunteers only need to get “intermediate mid” as they teach in English. So I finally heard the news that I tested at Intermediate high, which means that I passed and get to site, but I was a bit bummed as I was trying to get the next step above or “advanced low”, but it didn’t happen. Oh well, I passed. That’s not the case for all the pct’s who will have to stay at training a bit more.
The following day was my last with my host family in Andrefany Poste. Despite me not getting sufficient food and not having a lick in common with Marthe, Eugeune, Boda, Celestine, and What’s his name? (I really disliked the middle bro who was there once every two weeks, and by the time found out he was part of my family I had a week left with the fam). The mom was really the only glimpse of good in the family. She really kept that family running without getting any praise. When I helped do the dishes for the first time the bros were in disbelief. And the dad refused to wash clothes. Ladies beware: Madagascar isn’t too progressive, ie: it is law that wives are 9th in the list of a husband’s will behind their brothers, sons, cousins, golf buddies, bartender, and 2nd grade cubby buddy. Back to my host family, my mom did quite a bit for me and towards the end of my stay we started to talk quite a bit everyday. During my last night I had gotten them some gifts and unbeknownst to me, she also gave me a gift of a HUGE tablecloth she made for me. It was a great joke to them when I explained that I couldn’t fit a table that big in my room as it would be bigger than my house. I know that’s really not funny at all, but coming from a monster white guy speaking Malagasy in the sticks of Madagascar, it doesn’t take much to be a comic genius. I had gotten the family a decent flashlight as they were always in awe of mine, as well as toothbrushes for everyone in the family, giving me another great chance to make a psa to them about hygiene. However, that only reaffirmed to them that I am a doctor. I say that because it was a weekly dinner conversation that I was and whatever health ailments the family had, I knew the quick cure, and me CONSTANTLY explaining I don’t have an MD. So there you have it, considering I’m a recluse, I think my brothers were in a gang, and I didn’t have the slightest thing similar to these people, I think I may miss their company.
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