Party with the Ancestors

Last week, I went to a famadihana or the “turning of the bones” ceremony that is widely practiced in Madagascar. Every year during the dry season, certain Malagasy families dig up their ancestors from the family tomb, wrap them in new fabric, and return the remains to their “eternal” resting place. Though the practice certainly varies from region to region, I experienced what seemed to be a particularly large ceremony. Led by my dancing neighbors and a traveling brass band, over 100 community members paraded through the streets of Ampefy and then up a mountain overlooking Lake Itasy to collect the remains of two individuals – the great-grandmother (buried in 1944) and great uncle (buried in 1980) of one of my neighbors. Upon arrival, the two graves had already been unearthed by family members who then removed the remains of their ancestors from the tomb, placed the mixture of decomposed bone and dirt into the fresh fabric, and tightly wrapped them to be moved to the newly built family tomb. It appeared to be a very joyous occasion, with music playing and people dancing all the way up and back down the mountain. The only difference on the way down were the new partiers in our midst – the two ancestors in whose honor the ceremony was held; perhaps because they were getting cold.

Upon return to Ampefy that evening, the party really started. Music and dancing went all night long and throughout the next morning. Though I did not attend the morning festivities, that afternoon the procession started up again – this time, in the opposite direction towards the newly built family tomb. This time, I was accompanied by my friend Mamisoa and her husband. They were re-burying their nephew who died when he was very young – just two years old. Though I felt a certain level of joy the day before in dancing with the remains of those who lived a full life, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at seeing the wrapped up remains of a two-year old child. And as I walked with Mamisoa to the new tomb, she spoke to me about how the famadihana is a celebration of the dead filled with dancing and music however it does remind and in a way cause one to relive the sadness felt at the loss of a loved one. This sentiment really struck me when I was told the child died twenty years ago – which means he would have been about my age if still alive today.

To me, the famadihana at first seemed a joyous celebration, representing an occasion to remember and prolong the party with those who died decades ago. However, upon further talking to friends in town and experiencing the ceremony, it seemed more tragic than joyous, uprooting ancestors and never really allowing the feeling of loss to fade. These perceptions are of course influenced by my culture and our attitudes towards death, always considered a very solemn occasion. There is also another underlying implication of the famadihana ceremony – as a display of status and wealth in a time of the year when many families are running out of money to buy necessities such as food, medicine or school supplies. Several of my Malagasy friends expressed dissatisfaction with the practice as an unnecessary expense in a time when many families are struggling to make ends meet. However, it is a custom and clearly one that holds great importance for the Malagasy people to an extent that a foreigner like me cannot really comprehend. All that can really be concluded is that the Malagasy people have developed very unique traditions for coping with the phenomenon of death and loss, but one that will likely evolve and adapt to meet the changing demands of life, as all traditions eventually do.

Six months in Mada

I apologize that it has been so long since I have updated. I will try to be better about it from now on. Things have been a bit crazy the past few weeks and I feel like I am finally able to slow down, take a breath and process all that has been going on. In the beginning of August, I had a week of Peace Corps in-service training. It was great to see my fellow volunteers, share stories and hear about what they have been up to for the past several months. Afterwards, I went on a little vacation with some friends to the east coast of Madagascar to a town called Foulpointe. It was my first time seeing the ocean after 5 months of living on an island – long overdue, but well worth it! The beach was absolutely beautiful, white sand beaches and clear water. While I had a great time with my fellow volunteers doing nothing but swimming, exploring and eating, I found myself feeling a bit anxious to get back to Ampefy.

I have been back in Ampefy for about 3 weeks now, and I am beginning to see some projects come together. I have been talking a lot with farmers about ways to improve production and access to markets, as farming is one of the main livelihoods of people in town. In addition, I hope to get involved with youth in town to empower and inspire them by working with various youth institutions in town, including schools and scout groups.

Several big events are coming up in Ampefy – tomorrow is the international day of literacy which is to be celebrated here, and next week is something called Pelerinage. Though I’m not sure exactly what this event is, I do know military and policemen will arrive from all over the country for two days of prayer. The population will essentially double over two days next week. These kinds of events do provide great opportunities for the town to gain publicity and community members to gain a little extra income from the influx of people. It’s one of my goals to help people take advantage of such opportunities, as they happen fairly often in Ampefy. Next week, I plan on spending a day or two helping a Scout group prepare food for some of the visitors. It will be a lot of rice!

This past Tuesday, I visited a few agricultural NGOs and an agricultural training center with the President of the Fokontany of Ampefy. It was great for him to see all of the resources that are available in the area for farmers, and a group of 10 or so traveled yesterday to the training center to learn about compost. I plan to make the trip with him and any interested farmers next week to learn about rice farming. There is so much potential to improve the livelihoods of farmers here – through trainings about methods to increase production or organizing farmers to sell their products together to increase market power and improve access to markets, among other strategies. Although it would be a lofty goal to try and help the farmers implement these strategies in my short time here, I hope to at least plant the seeds of potential ideas for improvement.

Well, that’s all for now. If you want to read a good book about a Peace Corps experience, check out Living Poor by Moritz Thomsen. It is about one volunteer’s experience in Ecuador in the 1960s, and although it was clearly a very different time and place than Madagascar in 2012, I couldn’t help but draw several parallels with my experience here so far.