Gone Fishing: Piscine Sustainability

Harvesting the first round of fish

The community in which I call home (the area surrounding the village of Vohipeno) encompasses an astonishingly diverse and beautiful ecosystem. Some of the natural highlights of this region include lush hills of native vegetation, the best fruit in Madagascar, and a remarkably large assortment of little (and not so little) critters.

At the center of all of these natural curiosities sits the life-blood of the community: ny renirano (the river, or literally the water mother). In addition to being a key component in many traditional spiritual practices, the river is essential to the wellbeing of the people of this region, serving primarily as a food source. The section closest to the farm, Matitanana, is home to freshwater (tilapia-esque) fish, two species of delicious eel, a handful of saltwater creatures that make the swim up from the Indian Ocean, and even a small cast of crocodiles.

The hatchery

Unfortunately, increasingly lengthy hunger seasons and the consequential overfishing of the river has begun the rapid decay of this crucial piscine ecosystem. In response to this pressing issue, the farm has been developing a freshwater hatchery. Over the past eight months (filled with countless hours of shoveling, filling, stocking, raising, and praying) I have had the pleasure of seeing this ambitious venture come to fruition. Recently, after trolling the hatchery in pairs, we harvested the first mature group of fish (734 to be exact) to be sold in the surrounding marketplaces! I can’t wait to see how this new installation influences the lives of the people in this incredible community.

Concerning Hats: Vocation & Sun Protection

My sunhat posing with some papayas

I hate sunscreen. Wholeheartedly. It makes no difference if it comes in the form of an oily, white lotion or a fancy, pressurized spray. I just don’t like the stuff. This distaste may have stemmed from parental naggings as a child, or perhaps the inevitable, temporary blindness that comes from sunscreen running into one’s eyes, but I can’t say for certain. Alas, my ever-so-burnable skin and the unforgiving Madagascar sun serve as constant reminders to my need for sun protection. Luckily for me, there is an alternative to perpetual sunscreen use: wearing hats.

The longer I work on the farm, the more I come realize that my need for hats and their specific uses extend far beyond my floppy, woven sunhat and its protective shade. When I milk the dairy cattle I need a tight-fitting baseball cap that can withstand the lashings of cow tails. When I clear out a hornet’s nest I need a repurposed beekeeper’s mask to shield me from the airborne retaliation. When I want to strut through the marketplace looking like a stylish local, I need to proudly flaunt a traditional Antemoro hat (see picture).

(left to right) Traditional Antemoro & Betsileo hats

Analyzing these hats and their uses has led me to recollect the nonliteral “hats” I have worn since arriving in Madagascar. Egg Inspector, Head Electrician, Spider Exterminator, Cow Midwife, Cooking Instructor, Chicken Vaccinator, General Shoveler, and Pigsty Sanitation Manager are just a few of the unofficial titles I have held. Yet, when I am asked, “What do you do?” I find myself trying to construct a convoluted job description that is oozing with perspective, sustainability, intentionality, and other volunteer buzzwords.

But, in all reality, I shovel poop for hours each day. I’m not changing the world, just cleaning pigsties.

I always thought that I was supposed to discover my designated purpose on this earth: the vocation that had my name on it. I suppose I never considered that my name would be on a shovel, and so I avoided that job description like I would avoid reapplying sunscreen.

Armed with an antiboro, I'm ready to take on a hornet's nest

It has taken me wearing a lot of unexpected “hats” to finally realize that vocation is not about finding a predetermined occupation. It is about being willing to search for and accept any work that feeds your sense of purpose. I am paraphrasing Martin Luther when I say that no livelihood is dearer to the heart of God than any other, and that our mutual vocation is to love those around us.

Living in this Malagasy community has redefined the way I look at the work I do. Even though Egg Inspector and Spider Exterminator are not titles teeming with renown, they are titles that I can proudly flaunt like my Antemoro hat. The seemingly mundane work that I do every day is a beautiful opportunity for me to not only stay humbly present in the lives of those around me, but to sustain my sense of purpose.

I am truly grateful for the work that I have been able to do thus far, and I can’t wait for the opportunity to try on a few more hats before my time here in Madagascar reaches its end.

Noia, borrowing my hat