A quick sidenote about the custom for letting people in your home...Technically you are not supposed to walk into someone's house unless the host or hostess says, "come in." Now, that rule sort of falls by the wayside as you get to know people really well but that's the custom, nonetheless. Sometimes it's a bit funny if you dont say "come in" right away and watch and see how long it takes them to become visibly uncomfortable or for them to ask if they can come in. It's incredibly impolite if you don't say it - doesn't matter if you're talking to the mayor or the town clepto. Its particularly funny when you get a group of 10 bored students walking around in between classes and I have to tell them to "come in" to my house the size of a large walk-in closet. As the guest, you are also allowed to say, "eto avao" which roughly translates to, "thanks but here is fine" and awkwardly stand in the doorway. This is a good option if you want to avoid extended conversation or dont mind being late to wherever you're going. There's actually a joke amongst PC Madagascar/Africa that the time it takes you to get from point A to point B is completely dependent on how many people are sitting outside their front door. But of course, no student ever goes with "eto avao" because all of them need to see what the white guy has in his place (even if they've already been inside 50 times). So I tell this cloud of students to come in & they all file in with a precision that only Malagasy people seem to be born with (honestly I would love to see these people play tetris or something cause it's amazing how they can fit so much stuff in so many small places). I would equate it to something like a clown car at the circus except those clowns have limbs coming out of every opening (right? I've never actually seen a clown car at the circus but the analogy sounds good so go with it). Malagasy people pack themselves away with much more precision than the clowns.
So, after a few minutes of moving things around to make room for these people I now have all these students sitting in places I never thought could double as a seat. In traditional malagasy custom the eldest is usually the one to speak, but when it comes to several students visiting my house at the same time, they usually just defer to whoever can speak English the best (which in most cases means they can get to "whats new?" and then the conversation either reverts to gasy or just comes to a very awkward pause). Once the obligatory pleasantries are out of the way and each student has silently looked at all the newspaper clippings and other (mostly sports) pictures around my house, the 3-5 minute process of them finding a way to get out of my house begins and the delegated speaker says (in Malagasy now) "we were just passing by. See you later," all the while I'm thinking 'there goes another 10 minutes I can never get back.'
So back to this one student who needs my help and is in my house now. He starts out by saying (in Malagasy), "Sorry Rory but I have a problem." In my head I'm thinking, 'oh boy, its 8am and I have a bunch of stuff I would like to get done before noon.' Gasy people will tell you their problem 7 different ways and each way takes about 20 minutes. After the third one you just wanna scream out, "yeah, I got it the first time. What the hell do you want me to do about the cat who ate your chicken?" or whatever the issue of the day might be. So I cringe in my seat and ask, "okay, what's the problem?" This particular situation was a bit weird though because a handful of students are "regulars" at my house because they are looking to speak English (and have actually gotten quite good), but this kid had never been over in the 2 years I've been his teacher. "I really want to be good at English," he says. "Can you help me?" Instant slack jaw. You're kidding, right? I've been here for nearly two years, both of those with you as one of my students, all the while constantly preaching about my open-door policy and now, with 1 month left in the trimester and 2 months left in my service in Ampasimanjeva, you have the cojones to enter my walk-in closet and tell me you want to learn English? Just one question: what the f*#k have you been doing in my class for two years? Most people with half a brain would see this as a slap in the face and go nuts as I just displayed above, but I kept my cool and relayed my thoughts with a little more diplomacy. He told me he didnt ask earlier because he was scared. I thought to myself 'common sense told you that now, in my house with no witnesses would be the safest time to do so?" He then offered me a bottle of honey (I'm not sure if it was supposed to be as pay for my help or as a peace offering for me to forget how pissed off I was) which I told him I couldn't accept but I was always happy to help. It was like Peace Corps took hold of my tongue and made me say it. In the end I huffed and puffed my way through an hour and a half speaking lesson before he said his brain was tired and walked out. I felt dirty and used. He says he is going to come back every week until I leave. We'll see about that.
A few updates...I am headed to PC Madagascar's training center this week for my close of service conference with the rest of the volunteers I came into this country with nearly two years ago. Pretty wild.
I also have finished inventory on all the books in the library. There are more than 2,200 books in there in English, French, Malagasy, some Spanish and even a little German. The shelves will be put in on the 26th after which I'll make some finishing touches and open that sucker up!
