As we started our float along the Tsiribihina, we traveled from Miandrivazo westwards towards the sea. We sailed 60 kms on our first day. It was sad to see how much of the countryside has been devastated from deforestation. Regardless of how beautiful and lush it seemed, it was evident that the thick jungle island of the past was no longer. The people you meet, however have a kindness and are very friendly, which is all that is much more apparent in the rural areas. Our first day, was marked with spectacular views, a welcome and wonderful bath under a remote waterfall and a spy mission as we managed to see a rare white lemur family of five from the shoreline.
We ended our 60 kms journey on the banks of a tiny village of 300 people, mainly children. The crowd’s curiosity at seeing the strangers was apparent as they watched us from the shore. As the sun started to set, the crew aboard started playing music, some tapping on oil drums with sticks, one with a mandolin and several with kitchenware; all of who sung in unison in Malgache. As our voyeurs watched, my traveling mates Guy and Michel invited them to join us aboard. It took a half hour before a few children trickled onto the boat, but within the hour, the boat hosted more than 20 children who danced under the suspended lantern, which as the pirate explained to me later was a first in all his years traveling along the Tsiribihina.
As the children danced under the lantern, an army of local bugs swarmed the boat. Eventually in the dark, lit only by candlelight, we had dinner. Due to the heat and excitement, we quickly found ourselves fading from a delightful day full of laugher. We camped out under tents on our barge with the crowd watching us until the last light was out. The advantage of travelling with others is that despite my shyness, I was not alone in my experience and as a result encountered a magical night with the locals. At the end of the day, it would seem a new understanding had been formed, namely, we tourists are harmless.
We all woke early, too hot and sticky. I watched the sunrise over the river and the sleepy village, start its day. All three of us decided to take a solitary walk without guides through the lively and cultural little oasis that we had stumbled upon. The smiles from the night before were magnified in the light of day. As the sun lifted and people woke from their slumber our entourage grew larger. Naina (our cook) escorted us for our second tour around the quiet little village. As the day progressed our quiet little village oasis, grew busier. As we wandered through the little avenues, darting between mud houses and wooden shacks, an appreciation of our surroundings invaded us foreigners.
The main source of income in this rural development is tobacco. We asked to tour the local factory along the way, wanting to see the process after cultivation, in preparation for sale to the regional tobacco companies. As I watched one of the women dropping off an extra large bundle, I asked Naina if I could take her photo. She obliged asking in exchange if I wanted to carry a bundle of leaves. I, in return, laughed stating that, I was not nearly as strong as she was and I did not think it was something I could do. She smiled, took my hand and led me through the maze of tobacco piles. She prepared a bundle for me and helped me lift the large bundle wrapped in burlap on my head. With a big smile I marched back through the maze and across the factory floor. With such a small gesture and a big smile the factory erupted into laughter, whistles, and for a few a slight sense of shock. Interesting what such a small action does for an entire community.
Although traditionally women do not smoke in Madagascar, the factory was filled with female workers. Each worker was carrying the burden of feeding their children and supporting their families. It is not easy work in the aftermath of cultivation. We watched as they carried large bundles of dried leaves to be sorted and de-veined prior to going through the press machines. We watched people sweating in the heat of the morning, struggling to start their long Sunday of work. We walked about with our big smiles, appreciating the luxuries of our lives and being grateful for the chance to be beyond our scope of culture.
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