Recovery Day
We had some time to nap after church and then had dinner with Mark, Aimee, and their kids. We talked through our plans for the next week and turned in for the night.
I was surprised how well we slept in spite of being startled awake around 1:30am by a phone call from a friend who was asking about another friend. When I answered he said, “Did I wake you up?” It was asked in a “why are you sleeping at this time of day” tone. “Monica and I are in Madagascar and it’s one in the morning,” I replied.
Two texts messages from the states came soon after. Sleepus interruptus.
Mark and his family left early for the long drive out to the coastal city of Toamasina. I got up around 6 expecting to shower before breakfast. The power was out. No water. No shower until later.
Amber can’t eat the bread they serve here I went to the kitchen to ask the elderly woman who was cooking if she could use eggs and make Amber an omelet. She didn’t know any English and I couldn’t speak French. I tried a pantomime of cracking eggs to no avail. We looked in the refrigerator together but I found no eggs. About to give up I tried one more thing I put my thumbs in my armpits and flapped my arms like wings. Her dark wrinkles curved upward and she broke into a joyous laugh. “Yes, yes,” she cackled. She went to a counter and pulled a carton eggs out. I pointed at them and responded to her yes with my own “Omlet!”
She nodded and continued laughing as I made my exit and walked back to the dining room.
After breakfast Derrick, Amber, Monica and I got a driver to take us to the Digue market, a long row of wooden shacks along a paved road, one of the better ones here. Opposite the market, down a steep embankment, on the other side of the road lies a muddy river.
Laborers in dugout boats pull sandy mud out of the river, bringing it to the banks where others put it into molds to make clay bricks. Once semi-dried they are removed from their molds and stacked into large cubes in which fires are started so as to create kiln drying effects. Later they will be tossed one-by-one onto the roadside and then receive another heave-ho onto flatbed trucks to be carried away to their final destination.
Women also congregate along the river bank, washing their clothes and themselves. Their clothes and blankets are spread across the grassy bank to be sun dried.
We did a little bartering - it’s expected. Derrick did well me not so much. After acquiring a few small things we made the drive back to the hotel for lunch before our flight to Tamatave.
Maybe our jet lag will be behind when we start teaching in the morning.
