Gasy Time

Saturday, August 10th 2013 – 6pm
Bedroom of Homestay – Mantasoa

There’s a thing called Africa time. Elsewhere, it’s called island time. But here on the African island, it’s called Gasy time. It’s a slower pace of life. A walk that might take five minutes in the US could take half an hour here. If there are 25 people milling around the center of town as you pass by, then you have 25 people to talk to.

“Manao ahoana!” you say.

“Ahoana!,” they reply. “Inona no vaovao?”

“Tsy misy,” you answer back. Or maybe just “Tsisy.” And then, “Ary ianao?”

“Tsisy,” comes the reply with a shake of the head, “Mangatsika ny andro!”

“Eny, mangatsika be!” you agree.

Then maybe you go on your way, muttering tsara—good—over your shoulder. Or maybe you stick around to discuss the purchase of mofo—bread—balls displayed in the window. Every person you talk to will point out that it’s mangatsika—cold—today, and you will agree. Anyway, you get the idea.

The thing is, I still don’t feel like I’m on Gasy time. I feel like I’m still on American time. Since the day we arrived in Madagascar, we’ve been pushing ourselves full speed to keep up with the hectic training schedule. When I walk to class in the morning, I’m moving at an American pace. I feel kind of weird passing 25 people because I’m walking so much faster.

There have been exceptions, like on Sundays when there’s no class. And just now—when I took half an hour to make one lap around the house, communing with chickens, ducks, pigs and cows under turquoise twilight. It’s my last night at homestay, and I’m feeling wistful.

I really feel like I’ve accomplished something living with my Malagasy family. I feel so different from when I first stepped into this house four weeks ago. And I’m going to miss it, probably even more than I realize right now. But it’s time to move on: first to tech trip, and then to the second half of training at the Peace Corps Training Center.

There’s a lot to do in the six weeks that remain before we’re installed at our sites. As soon as we get back from tech trip, we’ll start teaching actual classes—in half hour increments at first, then full two hour classes. And we’ll be hammering just as hard on the language, doing an immersion program which requires that we not speak any English during certain times of the day—like mealtime. I’m sure it will be just as stressful as the first four weeks—only a different kind of stress.

Perhaps I won’t really feel like I’m on Gasy time until I’m sworn in and installed at site. The day I get there, everything is going to change. I’ll have three long, yawning weeks stretching out in front of me; to begin integrating with my community, preparing for class, and researching secondary projects. It will be a different kind of productivity—on Gasy time. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Right now, I’m looking at the next week as a bit of a vacation.

Mandrapiona!