Preparing for Re-Entry

As we prepare to leave Madagascar this week for a six-month “home assignment,” I’m filled with mixed emotions. I’m really looking forward to spending time with family and friends “back home,” but I also see that this island has become a part of us. Honestly, it’s going to be hard to re-enter American society after two years away. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to do so many technological things, but what’s worse, I’m afraid people will have forgotten us. Even though we’ve kept in touch through email and Skype, it’s not the same as regular phone conversations and visits. When you leave a place it stays imprinted in your mind in a certain way so it’s always shocking to return to find people you knew have changed or even moved on. And that’s only with the people!

Do you know I’ve never even set foot in the USA since Obama became president? This morning I was trying to remember what “American” milk tastes like. I’m used to shopping in an open-air, dirty market and paying for everything in cash. I think I’ve signed my name on official documents less than 10 times in the past two years. So if I look overwhelmed when I walk into a crowded mall or hesitate before signing a credit card receipt, you’ll know why.

But in all this transition, there is much to be thankful for. God has blessed us with “home” in two places, halfway around the world from each other. And whether we’re here or there, He remains that constant, never-changing presence in our lives.

Bevohoka aho!

This phrase, in Malagasy, means, "My womb is full!" Or more simply put: "I'm pregnant!” But I think I’ve only said it a couple of times in my five months of pregnancy. In this country, it’s not considered appropriate to announce your pregnancy to any and everyone. The traditional Malagasy worry about witches cursing their unborn children. So you just wait until it “shows” for the word to spread. For me, that’s only been in the last couple of weeks! And still no one asks if I’m pregnant. Instead, they comment on my growing stomach or congratulate us on the “vahiny” (visitor) that is coming. In a culture where children are greatly prized and complete strangers ask how many children you have and are shocked if you say you don’t have any, there is such joy in pregnancy yet it’s somehow commonplace. No doubt when walking down the street here, you’ll meet at least five pregnant women in walking just a couple of kilometers.

I’ve enjoyed hearing the Malagasy perspective on pregnancy and childbirth. For example, sour things are to be eaten to help with morning sickness. You shouldn’t wear pants when pregnant as it can hurt the baby. After giving birth, you must keep warm, wearing as many clothes as you can, even if it is nearly 100 degrees! In order for the breast milk to come in, you should boil a certain kind of tiny little fish (called patsa) and drink the water. They say it’s filled with calcium and vitamins.

I’m sure I’ll gain even more insight from the Malagasy when we return with the baby in January. While I don’t believe all of these “words of wisdom,” I must admit they are doing something right! With the number of children, babies, and pregnant women around…this is the perfect testing ground for any new theory in child development!

The Paint Truck

Yesterday while driving into the city we were caught in heavy traffic on a narrow, crowded road. Suddenly, we noticed people along the street in front of us stopping and turning to gape at something happening to a car up ahead. We thought maybe there had been an accident though this seemed unlikely considering we were already barely moving. Then the truck in front of us turned off, revealing a small white pick-up truck with some white unknown substance streaming off it's back bumper and onto the street. Daniel moved over to avoid driving through this white, sticky substance now lining the highway in even lines. Then we realized that this truck was hauling paint and one of the containers had overturned. The truck continued to draw a crowd of onlookers, all trying to figure out what was going on. For the next few kilometers, we watched as two men climbed out of the cab of the truck came around to the back, climbed on the bumper and began sorting through buckets and bags in the back, looking for the source of the paint leak. Finally, they found a big clear plastic bag filled that had "overturned." They put the bag in another container and set it off to the side. Then they ran back up to the cab. All the while the truck and our Land Rover were still moving slowly down the road! And the paint continued to stream unto the road...until we finally turned off.

Rija Rasolondraibe

I went to a concert of a famous Malagasy evangelical Christian singer on December 30. I started liking his music when I heard it on the bus countless times in July. I got the songs stuck in my head and started singing them to Malagasy friends until someone could tell me his name--Rija Rasolondraibe. Try saying that three times fast--let alone remembering it in the market! BUt if you remember that his last name means "grandfather's replacement" it's a wee bit easier!

Daniel finally found one of his CDs for me for Christmas. Then I found out a group from our church was going to his concert. I left home at 2 in the afternoon, finally got on the bus about 3 (some of the people I had to meet were late). We waited outside the auditorium (it’s indoors, a bit like Vets in Des Moines) for everyone and the woman who had our tickets for quite awhile. We got inside, found our seats in the last row (the place isn’t as big as Vets so not as far away, still pretty good seats) and waited and waited. The concert was supposed to start at 5 but didn’t start until 6, which was when most everyone had finally arrived. It was so hot and stuffy in there, no AC, no windows!

But it was great! Rija had a whole entourage with him of backup singers and a group of 6 gals that did a pretty good job of dancing. There were smoke machines, flames bursting from the front of the stage along with the beat, not to mention the flashing lights and big screen video and a screen just for the lyrics. A pretty impressive show for Madagascar—he even changed suits at intermission! ; )

The only technical glitch was that their projector got a little faulty, getting blurry and going on and off, in the second half. But all in all, it was a good show! He really sings from his heart and has had a big impact on many people here. He grew up as a “Christian,” going to church, but when he went abroad to study, he had a real conversion experience. His songs are beautiful and authentic. There’s one asking the Holy Spirit to come and fill you, another inviting Jesus to fill the place, and still another about the importance of prayer. There’s one he wrote too about heaven and how there won’t be any more politics there but just rejoicing together in unity (clearly Madagascar was on his mind when he wrote that one).

All in all it was a great experience of worshiping with friends. I'm thankful to God for this man who, though he lives abroad, is committed to writing worship songs in his mother tongue and coming home to Madagascar to perform each year.