hollowed out tree-trunk in an effort go to the beach during my first
week at site. We never made it last October (2010). Out of lack of
interest and fear of another "canoe ride," I hadn't tried to return to
try my luck until…December (2011).
I had recently visited the village of Ankovana in October with my
counterparts to administer vaccinations, distribute vitamins, and
dispense de-worming pills to children. While we were there, I spent
time with the new head of the village, the Chef Fokontany. Gaston was
a former big-shot in Mahajunga (a tourist town in the West) and was
clearly well off, manambola izy. He then came to our clinic in
Siranana at the end of November to visit and asked when I was going to
return to Ankovana again. I jokingly told him that I would come back
only if he took me to the beach I had never made it to. He said,
"Sure. When? We'll take 'Le Coq'." Now, I had been wary of accepting
invitations for excursions due to some poorly planned past
experiences, but "Le Coq" means the rooster and usually refers to a
speedboat here in Madagascar. Since this guy had money, I figured that
he actually had a speedboat. So, under the pretense of going to "the
beach" in a "speedboat," I scheduled a beach day for Friday.
I arrived in Ankovana with my buddy, Ludovic, after biking two hours.
We then met Gaston and he brought us to his boathouse. When he untied
the wooden panels that covered the door, he did not reveal a
speedboat. The best way I can describe it was that it was a cross
between a bath tub and a kiddie pool. It was small and its
sea-worthiness was questionable. My next assumption was that even
though the boat was small, surely he still had a motor to attach to
it. Wrong again. We would be paddling this makeshift vessel. All I
could think was that this seemed a lot like what I imagined the
journey from Cuba to the United States would be. He dragged the tub
into the mangroves and told me to get in. Wisely, I left my camera on
shore.
Shortly after pushing off, we started taking in water. Not wanting to
make Americans look like wimps, I laughed it off at first and starting
bailing it by the cupful. Yet, soon enough the water was coming in
faster than I could bail. So, I asked if maybe we should head back. Of
course, Gaston and Ludovic laughed, made fun of foreigners for being
scared of everything, and told me it was fine. Now, for your
information, there are sharp roots and all sorts of crazy creatures
that live in the water of the mangroves. One of the guys in town
recently got bit by something in the water and hasn't been able to
walk on his left foot for the past month. Suppressing my fear of the
boat sinking in the mangroves, we slowly made it to the ocean.
But…where was the beach they promised? No beach. I made the journey
only to find out there was no beach. No sand. Just ocean.
We then got out of the boat for a break, but as stories go, my shorts
got caught on the side of the boat and the whole right side ripped
off. We were now shipwrecked on the coast of the Mozambique Channel
without phones, without drinking water, and without shade. Not the
best situation I've ever been in. If a boat didn't pass by, we'd have
to swim back two miles in shallow, creature-filled water.
Luckily, after waiting for what seemed like hours, a canoe pulled into
the channel with the catch of the day and rescued us. I was sun-burnt,
smelled like fish, and decently dehydrated by the time we reached
shore again, but all I could feel was relief. Just another crazy day
in Madagascar. We then grilled a couple chickens, ate, had an
interesting discussion about sea turtles (that's another story), and
returned to my village.
I will not get in another "boat" in this country. Bottom line.
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