Valo Mars (I live in the land where a world holiday WILL be celebrated)

Today, all over the world, is the eighth of March (Kind of like how there is still a fourth of July in the UK).  Bad joke references aside, the eighth of March is an international holiday.  I wasn't there, but I heard Michele Obama tried to hold it up last year and make people celebrate, if not be aware at least, that it is a day worth noting. 

Today is women's day. 

Madagascar is way ahead of Lady Obama, they celebrate it as hard as they celebrate their independence day.  Of course, from my perspective, there is more to celebrate about the women of this country than anything governmental.  Having lived in a couple different regions of the country now, the thing that has struck me the most is how the women carry themselves with a sense of ownership over their world, a sense of confidence that I have not seen in a lot of other countries I have visited.  Women in this country are more likely to be in charge of finances, more capable of raising a child on their own.  Most significantly in terms of gender empowerment (or should I say neutrality?), men and women genuinely share the responsibilities on the farm.  You prepare the field, I'll transplant.  If the transplanting isn't finished, I'll join in until the work is done.  Like the end of a day at an over-sensitive cooperative business (which I am not knocking, for I have been apart of such a thing); no one gets to leave until all of the tasks are completed.  Every man, woman, child (get some child labor, get some) is, if not an appreciated part, a necesary part of the opperation.

Here, women are loud.  They dance, they sing.  They share jokes and conversation with men (which is a big deal).  People here laugh together.  If I am around, often at me.  But still!

Just a post-thought that, as I am leaking a good deal of optimism about gender equality in this country, there are plenty of misdemeaners too that I could embelish upon, playing my own devil's advocate.  But for the time being, and for the sake of the day, cheers to the ladies of Madagascar who, in their own way, are badasses. 

And thanks to my little sister who washes my laundry with a smile on her face because she knows I am incapable of making things clean. 

(Oh yeah, I suppose I forgot to explain what happens in the day.  There are parades, women perform dances, there are many a kabary (speach) made.  A cow or two is killed.  As always, rice is eaten.  And today, of course, it rained).

(Kelly)

 

My little bro and the banjo

not being blown over

I love being around people who appreciate the rain.  Rain means that the corn is going to grow which will bring in that money-money.  It means we can plant the rice which will not even come close to filling those bellies.  But it will lessen some of the economic pressure that comes with raising a large Malagasy family.  In so much of my life rain comes in as a conversation filler; one can always find a friend to whine about a grey sky with.  But here in my little corn-growing community in northern Madagascar, people will welcome a cyclone if it means we're going to get a solid sheet of water to cover the fields.

Which, in the last two weeks, is exactly what has happened.  I swam and slid my way between huts for the week as the cyclone flew through my village giving the town a "repose automatique".  We all just kind of sat and watched the rain.  Or they watched the silly white girl try to maneuver through it.  I didn't enjoy that spectacle quite as much.

The cyclone is over but the rains continue to come.  Its a good thing.  My corn/peanut field is looking quenched and we've rocked out half a hectare of rice fields in the technique that I'm meant to be advocating to increase rice production.  SRI.  System Riz Intensification.  The most amazing part of my new site is that people are so excited about trying this stuff out.  The most amazing part about me is that I've come into loving farming rice.

(Kelly)