Madagascar.
Things I read online before leaving:
20% of the population has electricity.
17% of their roads are paved.
About 90% of their flora and fauna can not be found anywhere else in the world.
There are, on average, 3 hospital beds for every 10,000 people.
And currently there is a sometimes violent political conflict happening in the capital, Antananarivo. (aka Tana)
The whole Madagascar idea came up rather suddenly. Richard found out that for the second week at his new job, he would be traveling with the boss to Lille in mainland France. Since we are dorky newlyweds and have already served our time doing long distances, he was ready to take me with him, but it was kind of awkward with the new boss and my ticket would've been 900 euros just to get to Paris. I was dreamily playing around on the airline website and saw a discount on tickets to Madagascar. After a few minutes of research, I realized I could spend an entire WEEK in the country with everything included--flight, meals, guides, drivers, hotels, EVERYTHING for about the same price as a ticket to Paris.
Richard was not so excited. He had spent a weekend in the capital, Tana with his family and they all ended up miserably sick, devastated by the poverty, and then some guy tried to rob them on the street. I still wanted to see for myself, so he gave me a condition; I had to convince someone to go with me.
Once I started asking around, everyone got kind of concerned. Richard's family wasn't too sure it was a good idea and everyone else kept asking Richard how he could "let" me go alone...which I am sorry to admit, brought out my immature rebellious side. From then on, my mind was decided. I was going no matter what.
Luckily, my friend Elena was open to the idea. Her husband--who once lived in Madagascar--not so much. So we devised a plot and called a "family dinner" to present our case to the men. In the end, they agreed to our plan, which involved staying in the nicest hotels possible and doing everything with a guide and/or driver.
So the flights were official. We had to first land in Tana and stay one night, then take a flight out the next morning to Morondava on the West coast. From there, a driver would take us 10 hours by 4x4 to Bekopaka to visit the Tsingys---the incredible Stone Forests. There were immediate issues...our remote hotel only took cash and also wanted a wire transfer for a deposit. Apparently during most of the trip, we would not be able to withdrawal money from anywhere, which means we were going to be traveling with a lot of cash...
In an effort to help prepare me...my inbox were suddenly flooded with bad news about Madagascar. Bombs found in Tana. Political threats. And this nice little article about French tourists being attacked by a guy with a machete! Operation "Prepare the Girls" lasted right up until we boarded the plane. Richard and James accompanied us to the airport and spent the last few minutes telling us every horrifying thing that would happen to us as soon as we landed. I realized that I hadn't heard one good thing about Madagascar since I announced that I wanted to go. And you know what? I didn't feel very prepared. I felt really, really scared. Determined, but terrified. I felt like I was going to land in a war zone. Little Elena and I vs. the Malagasy. Guess what I learned. When you're really afraid, life gives you things to fear...
We landed and just as described, the battle began. It was chaos. The night was especially black, and as we walked past customs, there was a literal crowd of people waiting to pounce. We found our driver and felt some relief but it was short lived because that's when they attacked. "Madame, madame, this way..." they were hissing and reaching out to us, eyes like little daggers. Babies were crying, women wanted money. The artificial lights, stark against the night sky were a disgusting yellow, like rotten teeth. We told the driver we had to exchange money (Reunion had no exchange of course...) and he lead us to a very indiscreet desk in the middle of everything. A man joined us and muttered to the driver in Malagasy while they both watched, expressionless, every move that we made. Every last euro we traded, and every single Ariary we received. They watched as we slowly folded the pile of bills up, and they watched where we placed them. Then we walked---the four of us--to the car, where two other men were already waiting. All of these men wanted to "help" us with our bags--but we had only a backpack and a small tote each and neither of us was letting go of our death grip on them. Without making eye contact, we got into the car. One of the men stepped in between me and the door. "Madame, money. Money. Money." We ignored him and looked straight forward. Where was the driver?!?!? He temporarily abandoned us, letting these guys have a few minutes. "Madame. Money! Money!!" The driver finally came back and got in. I slammed the door. The three men stood at the trunk and started shaking the car until the driver finally peeled away.
Tana in the dark is sad. There are some bonfires along the streets and garbage everywhere. Sleazy bars with neon lights are the only things lit up. We arrive at the hotel. It's clean enough, but there is no door or walls to separate the bathroom from the bed, just some blinds that don't go all the way around. There is a TV with two fuzzy channels. One is the news and the other is a horror movie.
Welcome to Madagascar.
The whole Madagascar idea came up rather suddenly. Richard found out that for the second week at his new job, he would be traveling with the boss to Lille in mainland France. Since we are dorky newlyweds and have already served our time doing long distances, he was ready to take me with him, but it was kind of awkward with the new boss and my ticket would've been 900 euros just to get to Paris. I was dreamily playing around on the airline website and saw a discount on tickets to Madagascar. After a few minutes of research, I realized I could spend an entire WEEK in the country with everything included--flight, meals, guides, drivers, hotels, EVERYTHING for about the same price as a ticket to Paris.
Richard was not so excited. He had spent a weekend in the capital, Tana with his family and they all ended up miserably sick, devastated by the poverty, and then some guy tried to rob them on the street. I still wanted to see for myself, so he gave me a condition; I had to convince someone to go with me.
Once I started asking around, everyone got kind of concerned. Richard's family wasn't too sure it was a good idea and everyone else kept asking Richard how he could "let" me go alone...which I am sorry to admit, brought out my immature rebellious side. From then on, my mind was decided. I was going no matter what.
Luckily, my friend Elena was open to the idea. Her husband--who once lived in Madagascar--not so much. So we devised a plot and called a "family dinner" to present our case to the men. In the end, they agreed to our plan, which involved staying in the nicest hotels possible and doing everything with a guide and/or driver.
So the flights were official. We had to first land in Tana and stay one night, then take a flight out the next morning to Morondava on the West coast. From there, a driver would take us 10 hours by 4x4 to Bekopaka to visit the Tsingys---the incredible Stone Forests. There were immediate issues...our remote hotel only took cash and also wanted a wire transfer for a deposit. Apparently during most of the trip, we would not be able to withdrawal money from anywhere, which means we were going to be traveling with a lot of cash...
 |
| This was about 150 euro aka 439,890.85 Ariary |
We landed and just as described, the battle began. It was chaos. The night was especially black, and as we walked past customs, there was a literal crowd of people waiting to pounce. We found our driver and felt some relief but it was short lived because that's when they attacked. "Madame, madame, this way..." they were hissing and reaching out to us, eyes like little daggers. Babies were crying, women wanted money. The artificial lights, stark against the night sky were a disgusting yellow, like rotten teeth. We told the driver we had to exchange money (Reunion had no exchange of course...) and he lead us to a very indiscreet desk in the middle of everything. A man joined us and muttered to the driver in Malagasy while they both watched, expressionless, every move that we made. Every last euro we traded, and every single Ariary we received. They watched as we slowly folded the pile of bills up, and they watched where we placed them. Then we walked---the four of us--to the car, where two other men were already waiting. All of these men wanted to "help" us with our bags--but we had only a backpack and a small tote each and neither of us was letting go of our death grip on them. Without making eye contact, we got into the car. One of the men stepped in between me and the door. "Madame, money. Money. Money." We ignored him and looked straight forward. Where was the driver?!?!? He temporarily abandoned us, letting these guys have a few minutes. "Madame. Money! Money!!" The driver finally came back and got in. I slammed the door. The three men stood at the trunk and started shaking the car until the driver finally peeled away.
Tana in the dark is sad. There are some bonfires along the streets and garbage everywhere. Sleazy bars with neon lights are the only things lit up. We arrive at the hotel. It's clean enough, but there is no door or walls to separate the bathroom from the bed, just some blinds that don't go all the way around. There is a TV with two fuzzy channels. One is the news and the other is a horror movie.
Welcome to Madagascar.
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