MAHAJANGA, Madagascar -- I never enjoyed road trips until I came to Madagascar.
After 13 hours on a bus, I am still enchanted with the naked hills, gashed open where the soil eroded away. Brush fires leave swaths of hillside blackened, the flames licking the grass in wider and wider circles. In the dry season, the grasslands are a brown carpet rolling out towards the sky. As we entered Anakarafantsika National Park, my eyes were soothed by the sudden green of the forest after harsh equatorial sun. What was once a great expanse of arboreal wealth that stretched up the whole west coast of Madagascar is now a small patch of trees spared from the ravages of man by its position on a plateau. Many of the plant and animal species living there are endemic to the park, including eight species of lemur. I have a weakness for lemurs. I watched them all afternoon. I was so happy I almost cried. I actually did tear up a bit.
Mahajanga, on the west coast of Madagascar, is the antithesis of the capital, Antananarivo, or Tana for short. Whereas Tana is filled to the brim, a cauldron of people slung between the hills, climbing upon one another to reach the lip of the bowl, Mahajanga is deserted during the day. Between the hours of noon and 3 p.m., one can hardly view another soul in the wide-open streets. Everyone is hiding in whatever patch of shade they can find to stave off the oppressive heat.
Whereas in Tana, I am constantly barraged by persistent vendors and children begging for spare change, here I remain relatively anonymous. As the last vestiges of orange sun dispersed on the horizon, a storm menaced the sailboats on the bay. At night, a cool breeze brings solace and the city's inhabitants begin to creep out from their holes to promenade along a concrete boardwalk and eat grilled meat at one of the many street stands.
We returned Friday night from our road trip to what seemed like a new city. This Tana was lush and green and rimmed in lilac. Lac Anosy hearkens to D.C.'s tidal basin during the cherry blossom season, the pink petals replaced by purple. Water collected in the blossoms' cups drips constantly on my head. A family of lemurs plays on an island at the zoo, a surprisingly well-kept place. My host cousin has never seen a lemur before.
Eleven hours on the mail truck later, I am back in Mahajanga, about to embark on my independent study. My host family greets me with mangos, one of at least a dozen varieties available for about 20 cents on every street corner.
While you were gathered around your televisions, watching county by county as election results came in Tuesday night, I was saving my battery, praying for cell phone reception Wednesday morning to make a call for the results. I have already cast my vote.
I will be hanging out in a little village by the sea for the next month, studying the lives of fishermen. When I was in fifth grade, I made a Conestoga wagon with such skill that my teacher rewarded me with a bottle of nail polish. I hope this project will live up to those standards.
You can reach this columnist at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
