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

A Madagascar Market Day

Have you ever been curious about what a market day in rural Madagascar looks like? Here is a video of me going through a BIG market day in Vohipeno (the nearest market town to the farm). Throughout the video you might be able to pick out the essential parts of any trip to the market: bartering, street food, and plenty of laughs.

Due to the frequent requests, I am excited to announce that I have written another children’s book! This is a lighthearted account of my relationship with my many reptile companions. I hope this tale brings you as much joy as these little creatures do to me. Mazotoa. Enjoy:

Little Lizard Friends

By Nicholas Sutherland

I see the bright green bodies with red splotches on their backs,

as they run across my walls, always looking for some snacks,

which usually consist of flies, mosquitoes, and assorted bugs.

And for that, I feel like I should give them all little hugs.

Because no one likes to be bothered with buzzing by their head.

And some mosquitoes can make you sick, at least, so I’ve read.

And yes, I know, spiders also eat bugs, but of them I’m wary,

because some of them can get quite large, and thus quite scary.

Whereas these little green reptiles are not frightening at all!

In fact, it’s rather nice having them run across the wall.

And it’s nice to share my home with a creature that’s not rude,

unlike the ants, rats, and tenrecs that like to eat my food.

A tenrec

Now it’s for these reasons, and many more not mentioned here,

that if you have a bug problem or just want some company near,

take my advice and check out one of the hottest new trends.

To solve all (or some) of your problems, go out and find some Little Lizard Friends.

An Essential Part of a Malagasy Diet: Ranon’ Ampango

The Malagasy people are the world’s highest per-capita consumers of rice, which means that you can find rice in nearly everything that you eat! There is rice in the breads, porridges, and even in the water.

Ranon’ Ampango, which literally translates to “burnt rice water,” is one of the most distinctive & consistently practiced mealtime cultural pieces across the island. Anywhere you go you can expect to see glasses filled with this delicious, brown-hued liquid.

Making ranon’ ampango is fairly straightforward. You just need to do as the name suggests! Cook a little more rice than is needed for the meal. Once cooked, remove most of the rice from the pot, leaving a layer about ½ an inch thick. Heat the remaining rice until it is burned & then pour in water to fill the pot. The longer the water is allowed to boil, the darker & stronger it will become. The result is a tea-like beverage that is served hot & typically enjoyed at the end of the meal.

According to the kind woman pictured here, the best ranon’ ampango comes from cooking local red rice in a large, well-used pot over a traditional charcoal stove.

Enjoy! Mazotoa!

How to Grow Friendships & Rice

It’s amazing what happens when you combine sun, rain, sweat, a few seeds, and a whole lot of mud. With these key elements (and a little luck) you can expect to see amber waves of vary (rice) for as far as the eye can see in approximately 150 days. Coincidentally, the five aforementioned components are also all it takes to grow lasting relationships with a new community. And the best part is that you don’t even have to wait for half of a year to appreciate the results!

I came to this realization when my life here at Fihaonana (the farming & animal husbandry school) changed suddenly and drastically. Early this January, after nearly four months of prayerfully waiting for new donors to sponsor the school year, the farm opened its doors to 36 young men and women. At last the Fihaonana class of 2016 had arrived to work, learn, and practice topics and techniques ranging from raising piglets to intricate vegetable plotting to English/music/cooking (with me as their teacher).

Beneath my surface level excitement for the big day, one emotion (unexpectedly) dominated my inner being: sheer terror. I suddenly felt like a child, frozen with fear by the prospect of the first day at an intimidating and unfamiliar school. Questions flooded my mind, both rational and unwarranted. What are they going to think of me? Should I act like a teacher or a student around them? Why haven’t I listened to more Malagasy pop music to maintain a “hip/cool” status? How am I going to make friends?

This last question buzzed around my head like one of the flies in the pigsties, and remained unanswered until I was waist-deep in mud, laughing alongside 36 students.

I never would have thought that I would find elation in digging up overgrown rice fields for days at a time, much less that something as simple as shoveling alongside another human being could foster so much companionship. As it turns out, one of the most effective catalysts for building meaningful relationships is the simple act of getting your hands dirty. Literally.

The best part about growing friendships and rice is that both are done side-by-side. When you turn the field, you shovel alongside the person next to you. When you stomp down the grass, you use each other’s shoulders for balance. When you plant/transplant, you walk backwards in a synchronized line to keep the rows even and the seeds undisturbed. And when you form lasting relationships, you accompany each other as equals. Side-by-side.

Deep Thoughts & Animal Poems

Me not being serious in a rice field

I would like to think that I am, generally, a lighthearted and straightforward guy. Those of you who have been following my blog can most likely attest to the fact that my posts reflect these personality traits. Those of you who have not been following my blog should go back, read my other posts, and confirm the previous statement. If not for the aforementioned reason, you should read my other blog posts solely for the purpose of providing me with the small ego boost that comes with seeing my “Blog Viewed” numbers go up. Thank you in advance.

As I was saying, my blog posts tend to follow a trend of circumventing too many “serious” topics. This, primarily, has been the case because it is much more enjoyable for me to give you all a peek into my life in rural Madagascar by producing posts about cute children’s classes, jam making, talking to animals, and being asked to hold chickens on an overcrowded taxi brousse. With this being said, I have decided to mix things up a bit by laying out a small handful of some more serious questions, concerns, frustrations, and hopes that consistently confront me. By doing this, I intend to give you a slightly more candid look into my unique situation in this beautiful place.

But let’s not get too serious.

To lighten the mood, each deep thought will be bookended my some of my latest animal poetry. Enjoy.

A Limerick for Rats

I know you eat my food for free,

and gnaw through my stuff carelessly.

I wish you would leave,

grant me a reprieve.

Find a new home, ASAP.

Deep Thought – Hope

I recently had a conversation with my site supervisor, Hoby (hoo-bee), about his latest trip to the capital city. We talked about how he went to agricultural meetings, filed some paperwork at governmental offices, and visited his family, but then seemingly out of nowhere he asked me, “Do you know of Nelson Mandela?” He had recently watched a movie on the South African leader’s life, and as he was emotionally describing it to me, he tearfully stated, “Madagascar needs a leader like him.” This comes from a man who daily confronts and struggles with the deep seeded corruption of governmental entities in this country. Anyone from the local post office worker to the regional police officers to governmental executives will accept (and often expect) bribes to sidestep the harsh repercussions they seem to be able to deliver at will. This, unfortunately, isn’t just a monetary issue, but an efficiency concern as well. Certain issues are, consequently, not addressed in a timely manner (e.g. a small village clinic in my region not being restocked with child malaria treatments for two months).

Despite the presence of these dismal events, the Malagasy people never lose hope for a better tomorrow. I am perpetually floored by the unwavering hope and optimism of these beautiful people. Hoby summed it up better than I can by saying, “I look around and I see amazing Malagasy people. There is always hope that they will lead this country, so that is what I pray for.”

My Thoughts on Duck Thoughts

(A haiku)

What does it ponder?

Perhaps justice, self worth, truth.

Or maybe just… Quack.

A Duck Dilemma

(Another duck haiku)

The rock soars towards it.

I warn it, to no avail.

Shouldn’t have said, “Duck!”

Deep Thought – Opportunity

The current President of Madagascar, Hery Rajaonarimampianina (talk about a tongue twister), has traveled the world, echoing the same message to anyone that will listen, “Madagascar is, today, a land of opportunity.” Although his intentions are good, many Malagasy people ask, “Opportunity for whom?” President Rajaonarimampianina is coining this phrase with the hopes of wooing foreign investors (one of the top priorities for the current administration), and consequently improving the quality of life of the Malagasy people as a whole.

The reason that doubt exists among the general public is that, historically, when a foreign investor takes stock in a Malagasy resource, the only people who don’t see benefit are the Malagasy people themselves. Take the example of recent mining (and other extractive industries) in Madagascar. The technician jobs that were created required such a high level of specialty that the vast majority of citizens couldn’t qualify. This lack of opportunity can seem like a slap to the face when The World Bank estimates that more than 92 percent of the population lives under $2 a day (and often less than $1 in rural regions).

But none of this seems to stop the Malagasy people from pushing towards a better life. Talking with the young adults of Madagascar is truly inspirational. Despite being faced with social immobility, they continue to crave education, expanded perspectives, and better lives for the generations to come. And they are not afraid to work for it. I can confidently say that Malagasy people are some of the hardest workers I have ever encountered, and I am glad to see that their hard work is starting to be noticed by the outside world. To see the beginnings of a foreign investment making a difference in the lives of the Malagasy people, click here to check out an article on the international demand for lychees (yum).

A Letter to a Tenrec

Dear strange, hedgehog-like creature,

I do not care that you

live by my door

or

eat my leftover banana peels

or

occasionally knock over my water bucket.

I do care that you

sleep in my shoes.

Cordially,

-A surprised shoe-wearer

Deep Thought – Tradition & (slow) Progress

Upon entering my USA hometown (Farmington, Missouri), the first thing you see off of the highway is a city water tower brandishing the town’s motto: The city of tradition & progress. I find this label oddly appropriate for Madagascar, except with one small adjustment: The country of tradition & (slow) progress. Madagascar is full of incredible cultural pieces that stem out of an exceptionally strong sense of tradition and honoring the past. The Malagasy proverb Manaova toy ny dian-tanalahy: jerena ny aloha, todihina my aoriana (Walk like the chameleon: one eye forward, the other backward), seems to accurately describe the importance that the Malagasy people put on the past.

While this philosophy is often beautiful to witness and essential for the survival of the rich traditional Malagasy culture and identity, it can stir up some destructive tendencies as well. Some examples include the widespread use of “slash & burn,” many out of date medical practices, and even a belief (in my village) that the water from the nearby river is clean during the rainy season and thus, does not need to be treated before consumption. Finding a balance of systematically removing harmful practices and preventing the disappearance of Malagasy culture turns out to be quite the challenge.

“But Nicholas, that’s why you’re in Madagascar! You can change the country for the better!” Although it’s tempting to think that I can come into a place, stand on a Western pedestal, preach the words of change, and then leave knowing I altered the world for good, I realize that it’s not only delusional, but also self-righteous. If healthy and long-term change is to take place without the destruction of certain cultural pieces, the Malagasy people must do it in a Malagasy way. Which usually means slow and steady (Moramora). I am confident that this country will slowly walk together (like the chameleon) towards a healthier tomorrow without losing site of their cultural roots. And when they move as a collective unit, the Malagasy people are unstoppable. Izay mitambatra vato fa izay misaraka fasika (Together we are rock, separate we are sand).

The Transitive Property

I feed the pigs. The pigs get fat.

I eat the pigs. I get fat.

Thus, by the transitive property, feeding pigs makes me fat.

Now do you see?

I told you that my degree in Mathematics would come in handy on the farm.

Cow Days

Moo.

Chew.

Poo.

Snooze.

Repeat.

*Many of the figures in this blog post came from Ambony-Ambany, a collection of articles by Soamiely Andriamananjara.