My Peace Corps friends and I hiked up the tallest accessible mountain in Madagascar. At first I was ambivalent about going but I really wanted to see some fellow Peace Corps peeps so when my friend, Kamaka, told me about it I said yes. We met up in Fianarantsoa and the next day we took a bus south 2 hours to the town of Ambalavao, that’s where we started the hike from. That night we stayed at a motel and the next day they drove us to the entrance to the National Park. After about 3 hours hiking uphill we arrived at a river and in spite of how cold the water was, we jumped in. My fingers were numb for awhile. Hours later we arrived at the Base Camp and our tents were nearby.

Dinner was simple but delicious. In the middle of the night at 2:45 in the morning we departed to reach the summit as the sun was coming up. I wasn’t thrilled about this plan but I went along with it because I’m a team player. We hiked in the dark and it was cold and drizzly, and trudging up-hill was like a never ending staircase to hell. I felt like I was back in high school at a grueling track practice wondering why the hell am I running track huffing and puffing like a 2 pack-a-day banshee. Yo, I just wanted to hang out with my Peace Corps Friends and snap some pics, I didn’t sign up for this exhaustion. We got back to base camp and I found out that the cows had ate my shirt that I had hung out to dry and were chewing on my favorite shorts. Damn, it was a shirt I had just tailored. Perhaps it’ll make a good story later. For lunch we had coffee, bread, and butter and were off. The rest of the day the hike was easy. That night we camped again. Our last night we stayed in a small town. We had a candle lit dinner with beer, rum, and Malagasy moonshine they call Toka Gasy. Our last day we were supposed to catch a bus back to Ambalavao in the morning but the bus was full so we hung out in the small town and entertained the children to pass the time. Physically it was the toughest thing I’ve done in years. I glad it’s behind me. And the bonding with friends was the best part.

Life is like laying under a shady tree with cows grazing in the distance. Yet, sometimes mosquitos lurk. The projector I ordered arrived in country and it was stuck in the capital awaiting payment of duty and taxes. I jumped on the first bus heading north for an 11 hour ride up to  Antananarivo to pick up my package from the UPS office, expecting the process to be easy. On the ride up I met a lady, Rina, who spoke good English and lives in Antananarivo. At the UPS office they made a list of all the things I had to pay for: about 180 dollars, a little more than what I get paid in a month. Also, they told me that me and my brother (he sent the package) had to open a Malagasy bank account. Also that he would need to fax a copy of his passport along with other documentation. I was shell-shocked. I had enough and I politely told them, “I no longer want the package.” Rina implored me to not give up. I said to the UPS workers, “Many Peace Corps volunteers have things sent to them and there’s never a problem. Why is mine a problem?” Turns out since it wasn’t labeled a “gift” like a care package, they thought I was trying to make money off the projector. Then they said we could go to the airport and try to negotiate with customs. We took a taxi across town to the airport and talked to a few officials and they also made a list of things that I had to pay for, taxes, fees, whatever. We finally got them to go get the package but by then the cashier had already left for the day. Meanwhile, I had to be at work the next day and since I’d have to take an 11 hour bus ride south I had to leave ASAP. I gave a Rina all the money required to get the package out of customs, plus taxi money, plus the cash to send it on a bus south to Fianarantsoa. I left and two days later I was able to pick it up. Thank you Rina! It is a quality projector.

I showed my first movie with a projector in the English Club. I purchased some thick black material to cover up the windows properly because it was daytim. Now the imaged is bright and clear. The students loved it.One of the movies shown included images in which the viewer flies through the air through a brightly lite city. We were all enthralled, especially since the image was so big. I compare the sensation to the Imax effect.

I’ve been living a low-key lifestyle. Haven’t had a beer since New Year’s Eve. Beer, in relation to everything else here is expensive, which leaves with money to buy school supplies such as hand-outs.

The video below is a view of the only street in my town. I shot it from a bus.

I’m preparing my English Club which will start next Friday. Don’t know what I’ll do exactly but it’ll be fun and conducive to using English. At my site, I hiked up the tallest mountain nearby. It was a little tough. At times I was going almost vertical using all four limbs. I had to take a break. A coffee break. I had to trailblazer which has me scratched up and cranky. That’ the last time I climb up that mountain. But the big one on the west side I’ll do again.

People still look at me like I’m some Hollywood celebrity minus the paparazzi. I’m cool with it because for them seeing a non-Malagasy is extra ordinary. But, sometimes I just want to be left alone, to be anonymous.

One day I was teaching a class, my rowdiest, and like usual they were talking up a storm and not being respectful so I decided to institute a seating chart. They didn’t like it and getting them in their assigned seats was like herding cats. Part of me was going to erupt in anger but I didn’t, instead I remained calm and after some time got the kids where they needed to sit. I was so proud of myself. Years ago I would have gotten pissed, yelled at someone then regretted it later.

I started the English Club. I wasn’t sure what to expect: how many students would attend or what I was going to do in the Club? But after our first meeting I learned a bit. We played some games in English and for the next meeting I plan on showing the BBC Show “Planet Earth” with the English subtitles turned on.

I now have a Malagasy tutor. I really need to learn more. I’ve been lazy. Also, I just ordered a snazzy projector from Amazon, because although showing movies on my laptop is good enough, I don’t my students to strain to see the screen and subtitles. Perhaps, I can use it in my classrooms, too.

Everything is going fabulous. In the beginning of December my whole Stage went back to the Peace Corps Training Site for Inter-Service Training (IST)

Prior to leaving my small town to head north, I was really getting along with my students. I didn’t want to leave them, and that surprised me. Who’s going to teach them when I’m gone? I thought most of my enjoyment in Madagascar would be outside of class and the teaching part would be the “work”. It turns out that I’m really enjoying the teaching and when I’m away from it, I miss it.

The Stage spent a couple of days in the capital before going to IST. I was more happy to see them than I expected. It was like seeing family again. Like family, you may not have the “friendship” bond with all of them, but with all of them, nonetheless, you have a strong bond. This training was more relaxed than our initial training. A Peace Corps director asked me to put together a video that they could show to new invitees. Also, I bonded with some fellow Peace Corps Volunteers that I wasn’t close to before. And we had some killer bonfires. The bonfire pit was on the edge of the water surrounded by hills covered by trees. My friend Edgar, from Dallas, had been interviewing everyone with a Gopro. The interviews had great locations, like one on a canoe. I chose to have my interview in a tree. We were like 25 feet above the ground. After the training was over we spent a couple of nights in Antananarivo again, before departing for our sites. Some people didn’t go back to their sites immediately but went on vacation. I went home and taught for a week before the official 2 week Christmas vacation.

I had to correct 200 tests, and review them with the students. I spent the 1st few days of vacation in Fianarantsoa, the big town located one hour south of mine. One night I wandered the dark streets, heard music in the distance and walked towards it. It was a little carnaval with rides and booths. I wished I was with a girl. We could’ve had a good time here. I got something to eat. I reluctantly played some carny games cause I wanted to but wasn’t in the mood to play. New Years Eve I spent with my host family at my site, Alakamisy. Often I compare my life here to my life in Miami Beach. Here in my small town I spend the nights alone in my apartment working on films, studying, writing, exercising, preparing lessons, and meditating. The town goes dark around 8pm. Not much to do or distract you. But after my hectic Miami years, I needed this.

I made a music video that show of Steph, Kamaka, and Juan performing their song “Volunteer” at one of our bonfires. In it I included video clips of our time at IST.

Teaching is wonderful, but the honeymoon is over and the kids are acting like kids. A few are acting like I did when I was their age. One covertly walked out of the classroom when my back was turned. Apparently he wanted to talk to some friends outside. Later he calmly returned like nothing happened. Really? When I taught in China this would have drove my blood pressure through the roof. I’m over that now. Now, I sternly but with a smile on my face, tell him or her to gather their things and leave, “You are done for the day.” Karma, thank you.

About a half hour east of my town the terrain starts to slope sharply down and the jungle begins. That’s where Rano Mafana National Park is. It’s been my little get away spot. There’s a campground so I bring my tent and I can be one with nature without being covered by bugs. Adjacent to this is a river. I came with my micro lens to get some photos of insects or the eyeballs of geckos.

On a hill is a little open air restaurant with a great view of the jungle valley. I go there for my meals, a few drinks and to play their guitar. One night, spiking my curiosity, I noticed a large table of Americans. What brings them all the way to Madagascar? I had a table close by and typed this blog, but I couldn’t help overhearing them. They were talking about the election results and other stuff that revealed that they weren’t Peace Corps Volunteers. A little later as I was coming back from the bathroom I introduced myself. They were here for a few months studying the biodiversity of the National Park. This area is thick and diverse with animals including multiple species of Lemurs, some endangered, so they came to the right place. We had a great time talking for hours into the night. Bugs were flying around, the light was low and we could hear the water flowing from the river. All of the sudden, we saw a big spider the size of a tarantula sauntering across the floor. I had never seen this species and it was big and damn scary. Later, after we had kinda forgot about it, it surprised us crawling on the ceiling above. Someone grabbed a camera because it was Facebook worthy.

The next day I took a taxi-brusse back home. It was hell. I was stuffed in there like a wet pretzel.

After this little excursion we had a week off from school. I tried to get to know my town a little more. I don’t feel like I’ve been integrating enough. I have my excuses, though. Everything is new and I’m still just trying to get a grip on all the change.

I went to Rano Mafana again the following weekend. Why? It was the celebration of the 25th anniversary of the National Park. I camped at the same spot. I met up with the family that owns the restaurant. They take tourists on kayaks down the river. The family gave me a ride into town which is downhill about 8 km. Once in town I helped them set up their booth. They were selling beer and chips and t-shirts advertising their company, Varibolo. They had shown me drone footage of their kayaks going down the river. I offered to edit the footage into a sweet little video that they can put on their website. Later, me and two brothers of the family, and an American named Trey swaggered into the town center. There were people everywhere and it was buzzin. We met some foreigners that work at an NGO nearby. We bar-hopped that small town through the night. One time I separated from the group and wondered into an establishment and I was immediately absorbed into a congo line. After that, I met up with my new friends at a club and we danced in a huge circle. Man, it had been forever since I’d done anything like that. I left before everyone else. It’s was too far to walk in the dark, that late, and up hill, I waited for a car to pass and asked for a lift.

I awoke the next morning in my tent to glowing yellow light. My tent is yellow. I had breakfast, did some stuff then took a taxi-brusse into town. I was just wandering around town, when some strangers invited me to have a few drinks with them at an outside bar. I had seen this bar the night before and its enchanting ambience struck me. We talked and drank for what seemed like forever. One of them said he had a surprise for me and went back to his house to get it. He brought it back and put it in my outstretched hands. It was a turtle. I didn’t want a turtle, but what the hell?  Another one them invited me over for dinner and I didn’t really want to go but I was hungry and out of money. The next morning I left to go back to Alakamisy, but instead, decided to go all the way to Fianarantsoa ‘cause there’s an ATM there.

During the two hour trip I would check on the turtle who was in my backpack. In Fianarantsoa I went to the Peace Corps Meva, which is the Peace Corps lodging for volunteers passing through. Two people work there, Michael and Nirina. Michael, from San Diego, had already did his two year service in Madagascar and had extended a third year to run this Meva. Nirina is Malagasy who speaks English superbly. Perhaps he’s been working for the Peace Corps for awhile. I pulled out the turtle and asked Nirina if he knew anything about turtles. He said that awhile back a former Volunteer put two turtles in the garden out back. I thought, “Cool, I have a place to keep the turtle. And it’ll have a turtle companion.” Also, I discovered that my new pet turtle took a dump in my backpack.

Well, I’ve been in my town, Alakamisy, for about a month. A strange change. The town rolls up its sidewalks around 7pm, but I could use a rest after 8 years in Miami Beach. Fortunately, about an hour south is a city, Fianarantsoa, that I’ve frequented a few times. It’s got hills like San Francisco, restaurants and a few establishments to grab a cold one.

Pre-Service training is over and I’ve finished the documentary of those 3 months. I made it so we can always look back and see ourselves as we were, young and vibrant, and playful. Memories fade and become bad copies of the original, film is forever. While in training, time moved so slow. I came close to a few people, made many friends, conflicted with a few, and went a little loco. I miss them, but also glad to be a Lone Wolf again. I’ll treasure those 3 months because spending 24 hours a day with such a large group of people for so was like being in a movie, or on that show, Survivor.

I teach at a high school and the students are friendly and want to learn. Some are a little rowdy but that’s to be expected. As a kid I was a class clown yearning for attention, so I bring that skill as a teacher. I walk 3 km every day to work going through picturesque rice fields and mountain views while everyone looks at me like I just walked out of a spaceship.

One afternoon I decided to hike up one of the tallest mountains in the area. I packed a lunch and my camera and crossed the rice fields that separate the mountain and my town. A group of little kids began following me. We got to a small stream that I had to jump over. I knew I could do it, but just barely. The kids saw my hesitation and laughed like crazy. Reacting from this I made it look like I wasn’t going to make it over the water, so they were anticipating a funny fail. I played it up right until I landed safely on the other side. They were surprised. I grinned and gave them a nod. 30 seconds and 50 meters later, one of them yelled, “Snake!” in Malagasy. My childhood instincts took over. “Where?” I chased it through the muck and the mire. I know how to safely catch snakes. I once grabbed a rattle off a giant rattle snake. It was 13 years old cause the rattle had 13 sections. I grabbed this one behind the head. It wrapped its tail around my forearm as I raised it high. The kids scattered. I need more snakes. Eventually they returned and we looked at the snake and talked before I let it go. I said good bye, shook their hands and 30 minutes later I was on top of the mountain, which had a big cross on top. I gazed, pondered, and worked on my fledgling tan.

There’s a family that sells food, bbq style, on the side of the road. They’re open late. It’s real rustic. I go there almost everyday. Sometimes when I have nothing to do, I’ll just stop by and have a coffee and BS with them.

I hung out with a few fellow Peace Corps Volunteers in Fianarantsoa. They’re a wonderful bunch who live nearby. I’m the only one from my training group here. We did some Karaoke the first night. Unfortunately I got too tipsy before they played my song so I called it an early night. Maybe someone called it for me, it got a little fuzzy. The next day we hung out by a hotel pool. The music was extremely loud and there were lots people everywhere. A little kid ask to play with a ball that I bought to help teach English with. She was so cute. I said yeah, “But bring it back when your done.” Never saw the kid again.

I still don’t feel that my Malagasy is up to snuff. I should be studying more, but I’m so busy trying to get a grip on my new life here.

I visited the town of Rano Mafana. It’s about an hour east from my town, but the climate and landscape are 180 degrees different. It’s pure jungle teeming with lemurs and creepy crawlies like centipedes and strange insects that look like they just stepped out of a tiny spaceship. I walked around town checking the scene. I checked into a rinky dinky motel with communal bathrooms and showers. The lady working there was so friendly and the surrounding vegetation was trying it’s best to take the place over. Very Narnia-like. It had me at hello.

This first post comes to you after I’ve already been in Madagascar for 3 month. I’ve just finished the Pre-Service Training.

When I was child and watching TV I saw a commercial, it announced, “The toughest job you’ll ever love.” In that 30 sec spot, young, good looking Americans toiled in the fields of an exotic, lush, green country far away. It planted a seed in my young mind. After High School, at Sacramento City College I saw a Peace Corps booth on career day. I asked them, “I’d like to join. How do I go about it?” They replied, “You need at least a Bachelor’s degree or a special skill like farming or in the health field.” I had neither, but I needed to explore the world….pronto. So instead, I joined the military and traveled the globe, even went to Antarctica.

Much later, I left the military, after which searched for adventure and enlightenment while living out of my backpack. Eventually I landed in Miami Beach and got my degree from Miami Dade College in 2013. Here’s a sample of my life in Miami Beach.

Immediately I applied to the Peace Corps but, I was too far in debt to go in. I was working at The Standard Hotel Resort Spa in South Beach at the time and making squat. Luckily, I scored a job at the Sandbar Lounge adjacent to the beach and worked my butt to the nub over the next two years, and it paid off in spades and, in the summer of 2015, I applied again. My application was denied. I applied a 3rd time and in November of 2015 I got my invitation to serve in Madagascar, departing in June of 2016. My inner child celebrated.

On June 27th my group met in Philadelphia for staging, all 31 of us. It was funny meeting the others. We had been communicating for months over social media and had a few video chats. It was like meeting television personalities for the first time. There were some nerds and some class clowns in the group yet all were adventurers, hardy, and selfless. During those 3 days, we attended sessions, went shopping, and reunited in TGI Friday’s to watch soccer games. There was a young guy named Kamaka, he was recent graduate and from the big island of Hawaii, and he did backflips off of waterfalls. A group of us would end up back in his room. We’d goof off, watch Game Of Thrones and swing numb-chucks to hit peanuts while a third volunteer would try to catch it in their mouth. Bonding.

After golden moments like that it was time to depart the USA.  We met in the lobby at 3 am to take the bus to JFK airport. We were all jazzed and sleepy. Jokingly, I placed my travel pillow on a fellow volunteer’s head. She was not pleased at all and I’ve been on her shit list ever since. Bonding.

The first 3 days in Madagascar were spent in the Peace Corps training center, a fortified compound a few hours east of the capital in the chilly mountains outside a small town called Mantasoa, with a climate similar to a rainy Scottish village I didn’t pack for. We were housed in dormitory rooms. I shared mine with Juan, a lanky guy from Kansas who makes people laugh by saying funny things about Kansas and with Ahmed, a burly, bald-headed former police officer from Louisiana who always has something good to say to get anyone out of the doldrums. The dormitory shares a community bathrooms. Bonding.

The days were spent in sessions learning about the Peace Corps regulations, safety security issues, and the malagasy culture & language. After dinner we were free to do as we pleased: a bunch played volleyball, some studied, some lounged in hammocks, some wrote to family members, and I usually meandered about taking pictures, chatting with people, and working on a documentary video that will encompass our first 3 months together.  At night, we’d play card games, watch movies, have some drinks, sit by the fire, dance, and wire in to the internet. When we weren’t at the compound we stayed with our host families in neighboring Mantasoa. It was cold and our homes had no heating, so there was no escaping the frigid air. We did our business in squatter toilets away from the house. My host family was hospitable. There was always plenty of food. The house was a half hour’s walk from town trudging up and down slippery, muddy roads into the forest like I was Little Red Riding Hood. I used this time to study Malagasy on flash cards. Six days a week we did Peace Corps stuff but Sundays were ours. Our first Sunday we went for a hike through the rice fields but had to abort mission because agitated bulls blocked our way. Diana, a former ski instructor from Colorado suggested we go to the top of a big hill overlooking the town, instead. We stopped at a store for some drinks on the way there. 20 minutes later we gazed at the town, the hills, and the rice fields below. I opened my beer and made an enthusiastic cheers with Juan and a rainbow appeared. It was our first drink in country and it was as awesome as a beer commercial during the Super Bowl. Bonding.

After a month and a half we were sent to our site for two weeks. This is where we will eventually spend our two years. Mine is Alakamisy Ambohimaha in the south central highlands. I wanted a hot-all-year-round-place but I didn’t get it. I was bummed. When we all found out our places, most us got giddy and looked for our places on a big map. I instead, brooded alone on the water’s edge of the Peace Corps compound. Later, I saw a trainee from NYC who was also placed in my region. She was happy and positive. That lifted my spirits. If she could be happy than so can I.

On the bus down to Alakamisy I rode with the volunteer I’d be replacing. She’s a friendly girl from Louisiana. Not very talkative but she has a common-sense perspective that I jive with. After about 9 hours I was feeling antsy. I thought, “Where is this damn town?” She pointed out the window and said, “There’s your new home.” We were going downhill and from our perch I saw a big bowl like valley and rising up in the middle of it was a plateau with buildings on it. Alakamisy Land Ho! Around this plateau was farmland, mostly rice fields, and hella mountains around that. If the valley flooded with water, Alakamisy would be an island. Most of the town hugs the main highway of Madagascar, the RN7. It’s the only road in town, no side walks, so the traffic and pedestrians share the asphalt. Despite its size it has a few little restaurants and some social activity, some nefarious, I’m sure. I spent the two weeks with a wonderful host family. They showed me around the area and treated me very well. One day, I had a beer in one of the small restaurants and immediately the whole town knew I was drinking in town. I was told not to drink in public. Well, they said it wasn’t going to be easy.  The two weeks flew by and then I was back in Mantasoa.

The two weeks were over and back to Mantasoa. Our first few nights we stayed at the Peace Corps training compound and on Sunday we lounged around the area next to the lake, some playing volleyball and talking on the grass in the sun. It was like the paradise scene you see in religious pamphlets left in city buses that paint a picture of Eden. On Monday, it’s back to the grind, more sessions, more homework, and more cold, cannot escape it.

I we spent our afternoons.

Me and my host family.

The road to my host family’s house.

The last month we spent at the compound which made everyone happy. My fellow trainees are like my family and like my family it was time to say good bye to them, but we had one more month.

One day after classes, I went with a fellow trainee, a girl from the northeast, to a little mini-market outside the gate of the compound to buy a few things. It had been a tough day. We had to give two speeches, one in Malagasy. Plus, the day before we had our final language test. I needed a beer, a lot of us needed a beer. So once out the gate, we began walking down the dirt road and started talking about our Peace Corps trainee family. It was good to vent, but I didn’t know how honest to be. Inside, I am cruel, but I don’t want everyone to know that, even someone that I trust.

We bought beers and sat on the side of a dirt road. We talked about everyone and she brought up a rumor about me that’s been making the rounds through our group. It was about me and a girl. I wasn’t mad or even bothered by it. I know the score. Humans spread rumors like bees make honey, and honey is sweet.

More of our friends arrived. The conversation was wonderful. After a time, I had too many sips of the nector, I came back to the compound, pissed some people off and the next day I woke up just knowing I had to go on an apology tour. You make your bed, you gotta lay in it, as they say.

We just swore in as new Peace Corps Volunteers. A representative from the US embassy and other VIP’s were there as well as lots of townsfolk and we had a snazzy parade and a local band. Afterwards, we had a little cocktail-like party and we took pictures, during which I had a searing conflict with a fellow volunteer that put me in such a funk that I decided to skip out on our going-away party, and finish our documentary, instead. But oh well, that’s life. The toughest job you’ll ever love.