More Odds and Ends

So this high school girl that lives close to me asked me Wednesday if she could bring by a friend to study English. I said, No Problem, being she is a nice girl who was kind to me when I first arrived. I’ll blame it now on the Stupid Malagasy Subject Pronoun: Izy = she AND he. I would have said yes anyways because who can expect a guy to come back the next day by himself and quote parts of the song “You Are My Sunshine” to you? NOT ME. I had a thought that he may have alternate motives other than wanting to improve his English speaking abilities, but who’d have guessed he would return so quickly and speak so clearly in English. No wonder he’s already an English teacher at the Catholic school (not that this means anything either because some of the English teachers are capable of speaking very little English).

He told me he saw me two months ago when I arrived and wanted to get to know me then. Ha. Last night when he left he told me “Have a sweet dream” and then texted me “Good night” (His getting my number was an accident. Silly me). When he arrived at my house today, he asked me if I had “a nice dream.” I told him I didn’t remember so they must not have been that bad. He then asked if he could tell me what he dreamed about, which is when he broke out the words to the above mentioned song. I tried not to laugh and at the same time, encourage him that I do NOT need a Gasy boyfriend. I’m here to work. He said he didn’t see why I couldn’t do both. Okay, good point. But, I don’t need time to think about my response, which is what he told me he would let me do. Gee, what a nice guy.

My sister’s text message response to my admirer dilemma: “Look at the impact you are having…that is a lot of English to learn!” Thanks for your support, sis.

Some odds and ends I’ve been meaning to suggest (that’s all they are, suggestions, because they made me think and maybe they’ll make you think, too):
1. Read The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
2. Watch An Inconvenient Truth
3. The Malagasy people were very interested in the U.S. Presidential Election. They wanted Barack Obama to win because he has dark skin. Each time this topic came up, they would point to their skin and say, “Mitovy Malagasy” (same as Malagasy), as if this explains everything. But it should make us wonder, What does this say of what other countries think of America?
4. A PCV who has been here for three years and is getting ready to COS (he extended for a year and is about to go home) said that often in PC, “the days drag on but the months fly by.” It’s true even at home, but I’m just now starting to understand that here.
5. When I first arrived, people thought my name was Quinze, the French word for the number 15. Now they think it’s Kenji. I guess where moving forward slowly.
6. I think my new favorite word at the moment is “to fetch” (maka). That’s the verb that the Malagasy people use for lots of situations: to fetch water, to fetch a piece of paper, to fetch a person when it’s time for the taxi brousse to leave. Maybe my favorite: "maka rivetra", to fetch the wind. For example, my students say it when they are taking a break between classes. I tell them they still have a few mintues to run around and they say this. They still have a few minutes to walk around outside, enjoy the breeze. It's fun, and it makes the language easier for me.
7. Some people flagged me down yesterday when I was walking and tried to explain something about some sort of animal to me. I didn’t recognize the name of the animal or what they wanted me to do wih it, but this isn’t that unusual of a situation for me. They asked me where I lived and said they’d bring the animal by. How thoughtful. Four young children showed up at my door later that afternoon with the biggest, brightest yellow butterfly I’ve ever seen. They had it in a plastic bag, barely big enough for it to squirm around in. I didn’t take a picture because I don’t know these kids and didn’t want them to see my camera. Sorry. And I still have no idea what they wanted me to do with it. Buy it? And then what? Just because I’m a foreigner doesn’t mean I have a special need for a giant yellow butterfly.

The top three things I discuss with Malagasy people:

1. Am I here to ‘fetch’ a Gasy sipa/mpivady (boyfriend/husand)? And then at great length, Why not?
2. Obama or McCain? And now, did I vote for Obama?
3. Rice. It’s always about the rice here. Do I eat rice? Do I eat it three times a day? Do I eat rice three times a day in the States? Do Americans eat rice? Do Americans eat rice three times a day? If Americans don’t eat rice three times a day, what do they eat? They want to know what our rice is: bread, pasta, potatoes, cassava? Seriously. I’ve had this conversation and will continue to have it until I leave.

“I will do my best to give thanks for gifts, strangely, beautifully, painfully wrapped.” p. 417 (Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells)

“A moment was not a single moment at all, but rather an infinite number of different moments, depending on who was seeing things and how.” p. 215 (The Memory Keeper’s Daughter)