Snakes Or Crocs? – A Backbreaking Trek
Manakara lies about 373 miles (600 km) south of Antananarivo, Madagascar. Yet, it takes our team of seven the whole of two days to complete the drive. Afzal Yusufali, Murtaza Bhimani, Zuhair Hemraj, and I visiting from Tanzania, and S. Haneef, CEO of FCRA, CAI’s partners in Madagascar, his colleague Mohammed Ali from Reunion and Tau-Tau, the driver from Tana traverse the punishing and backbreaking drive due to horrendous roads and have a jolly good time at it. It is the tail end of leeche, mangosteen, and mango seasons, the legendary fruits from this island nation, so we reward our jerking and tossing around in the vehicle by gorging ourselves on these fruits with frequent stops. Burp.
Like most African countries, Madagascar is blessed with immense natural resources, yet it remains poor and wanting, especially in the education and medical sectors. CAI, in partnership with BCT of the UK, has built an operational handsome school in Manakara. I am to inspect the school to ensure it is compliant with CAI quality standards and also look into assisting with medical services even further away, where children’s mortality rates are shocking due to the lack of medical equipment and services.
When our drivers feel fatigued and sleepy from the drive, we stop in Ambositra and check into Hotel La Piscine, a tiny town, to rest for the night. The hotel looks decent enough, and the solitary, sleepy, uncaring employee lets us use the deserted restaurant even though it’s getting late and we bring our food. Sheikh Haneef promptly fires up his portable gas stove and makes karak (with elaichi, yuk!) chai that seven hungry adults devour with delicious French baguettes, cheese, and all-natural Madagascar jungle honey.
I immediately get jittery when I set my eyes on the bed in my room. Two giant cockroaches are making merry on it, and the bedsheet has some telltale stains; I shudder in fear and disgust. Thankfully, the bathroom has two clean-looking towels that I spread on the bed, and I use the travel pillow from one of the cars instead of the lumpy one provided. I dare not use the flimsy quilt after seeing the stained bedsheet. Sure enough, the two cockroaches reappear after the power goes off, and it is suffocatingly dark. One of them crawls up my leg; I let off a scream and clamor off the bed, bumping my head on the side table, my heart pumping. I turn on my cellphone light and look for the tormentors, ready to strike. I must kill them both or forgo sleep, and it’s only 1:40 AM. I find one near the bed; he is a tiny pile of slush from one blow of my chappal. The second one tries to dart away after seeing what happens to its friend, but it dashes the wrong way and also finds itself in Jahannam. I drift off to an uneasy slumber, dreaming of two grinning cockroaches conspiring to attack me.
We reach Manakara fatigued and check in to Hotel H1. It is a two-star hotel and the best in Manaka. The only reason it has a rating at all is because it has a sometimes-functioning generator. The town has power for three hours a lucky day, so the generator works when there is no power, but it quits if more than five rooms switch on the AC simultaneously. Well, it is the middle of summer here, so everybody wants to sleep in some comfort, so it is a cat-and-mouse game we all play, especially Zuhair.
The power goes off, the generator comes on, and so do the ACs – the generator conks out. When the generator senses less than five AC units, it comes on, and so do the other ACs. Zuhair and I are the first to switch on our ACs before the others can. When the rest of the guests tire of switching on and off, the AC stays on, and we can sleep at the expense of the others. I hijack a solar-powered fan from the FCRA guesthouse the following day and it helps rotate muggy air around the hotel room that night. The tap water at this hotel is from the sea – super salty. The only thing I can do is wash my behind with it. The hotel provides two sweet water buckets for brushing our teeth and bathing; thank God it’s not winter, or else I’d have pneumonia.
We visit our school, which is doing great. One hundred sixty girl students from poor homes, including fifty FCRA-sponsored orphans, get quality education opportunities in this remote place. The school suffers from the typical teething issues of a new setup, so CAI will provide the resources to address them shortly. We are taken care of by the excellent FCRA cook in Mariam, who feeds us yummy food, and there are still plenty of mangoes.
A remote community away from Manakara requires attention, so we drive about an hour to a location, after which it is either a hike through rough terrain or a canoe ride of thirty minutes. Since it is stiflingly hot, the canoe ride is my choice. Murtaza and I gingerly step into one dubious-looking canoe and take off, paddled by a scrawny man who looks like he’ll snap into two any minute with all the effort he puts into rowing. The next canoe with Zuhair and the Sheikh has sprung a leak, so the rower tries to get rid of the water by scooping it out with his chappal. I want to laugh out loud, except I think I’ll rock the boat and put it in peril. Someone quips that there may be crocks lurking in the water, and that gets Murtaza to retreat his hands faster than a heartbeat, which was flirting with the water. I see him recite Quran suras and blow on himself for protection.
The fact that the village of Ambirombamby has a functioning school in such a remote area is incredible. It is rudimentary, but I am impressed with their determination and commitment to their children’s education. CAI donors will contribute 40 desks, sponsor two qualified teachers to travel to the village and stay for the workweek to teach, and a water well for potable water and a small solar unit. A motorized canoe to ferry the kids further up the river is also being considered. I choose to walk back to the car and regret that decision. The sun burns down on me, giving me a tan I don’t require. When one of the local guides warns me to look out for snakes, I feel like kicking myself for wanting to walk back.
Manakara has a population of 56,000 and 2 rudimentary hospitals (with non-existent maternity care) to serve them all. The hospitals are subpar in equipment, medicine, and medical caregivers. Infant mortality is very high, and expectant mothers traveling from rural interiors, if they make it to these clinics, either succumb to death or give birth to very complicated cases of newborns. CAI is looking for donor funds to construct a small but modern maternity clinic that will serve the poor of Manakara and surrounding villages. A comprehensive plan for this project is in the works, and we will start construction within three months. Please consider a helping hand, if possible.
The way back to Tana is via a chartered aircraft, and the two-day drive coming up is completed in seventy-five minutes. Imagine!
Click here for some fantastic photos.