This blog has been hibernating since I returned from
studying abroad in Cape Town, South Africa in 2011, but now that I’ve decided
to fly south for the summer it is slowly but surely waking from it’s slumber.
I’m too lazy to change the name of the blog even though it’s
no longer entirely applicable (although I did have the foresight to add and beyond to the description). That part of my life was called Emily in the
Cape…
This part of my life is called Madagascar.
It took 38 hours, four airports, three planes, two cars, and
a lot of patience, but I made it to the island of singing lemurs without losing
anything but sleep. I’m now going on day 17 in this country and I already feel
like my first impressions have been tainted by my second, but I’ll do my best
to give an honest account of the blur that was my first week. I apologize in advance for my long-windedness.
Day 0: A Malagasy man named Joseph picked me up from the
airport. He spoke great English, but only seemed to use it to ask me about the
prices of various products in the U.S. …What
about the bag of chips? The mobile phone? What about the pants? And so it went for an hour and a half into
the city.
We went straight to the embassy, where I met the Public
Affairs Officer, Brett, who began discussing all things Public Affairs that I
would soon be a part of. He must have noticed that I was having trouble
stringing sentences together because he finally offered to take me home. Not
two hours after dropping me off, however, he was back to pick me up for dinner
at the Chargé’s house. If you’re confused by that term, join the club; it took
me half the night to figure out what a Chargé was, what he did and whether or
not I should care.
Turns out I should- and I do. The Charge d’Affairs is in
charge of the U.S. mission to Madagascar in the absence of an ambassador, and
since the U.S. does not recognize the government of Madagascar (I’ll get to
that later), we do not have an ambassador. So, I shared an amazing meal with
the Chargé and ten or twelve of the highest-ranking diplomats in the embassy
and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. Needless to say I didn’t make
much of an impression.
Day 1: I spent
the day settling in and getting to know my housemate and fellow intern, Kayla.
We went on a short driving tour of the city with one of our neighbors, went to
dinner with one of the marines (there are five or six of them at embassy), and
went out to a bar with an eclectic mix of other foreign interns, some NGO
workers, and some local Malagasy. It was a good day, and it was particularly reassuring
to know that I would in fact have a social life outside of dinners at the Chargé’s
over the next three months.
Day 2: The hash. To be continued at a later date.
Day 3-4: My first two days of work at the embassy were
mostly filled with various security briefings, introductions and meetings that
I may or may not have been invited to. The whole Public Affairs section and
much of the embassy was busy preparing for the Fourth of July festivities later
that week, so I helped out when I could and took advantage of the free Internet
when I couldn’t.
Day 5-6: The Fourth of July was formally celebrated at the
embassy on the third of July. Roughly 500 members of the diplomatic community,
the embassy and Malagasy civil society came together to celebrate with food,
drinks, and music. It was quite the social event and was the first chance I really
had to mingle with a wide variety of embassy employees.
The actual Fourth of July was more properly celebrated with the
day off of work and a barbeque at the Chargé’s. It was about as all-American as
it gets in Madagascar- full of hot dogs, country music and American expats,
including peace corps volunteers, Mormon missionaries and Exxon oil business
reps (the usual crowd). Despite the enjoyable day, I felt the first pangs of
homesickness as I thought of my family barbequing together or my friends
romping around the streets of IV. I think I’ll try to make it home before the
next Fourth of July.
Day 7: Fridays are half-days at work (best decision ever) and I spent mine in a very long and
very French meeting. I’m slowly recovering some of my beginning French language
skills from school, but for the time being it’s a pretty legitimate excuse to
zone out. Friday night Kayla and the marines and I went out to a ritzy bar by
Malagasy standards where I had a $3 mojito and a $1.50 beer (gotta love that conversion
rate) and then went out dancing. It was a blast. I’m very lucky to have
inherited the group of people that Kayla pulled together throughout the month
before I arrived- good people, good times.
There you have it- week one. There is so much more to be
said than I would ever make anyone read, but I think I hit all the major
points. And to those of you who made it through this whole post, I miss you,
and I’m excited to continue sharing this adventure with you!
