The 99 People You Meet in Madagascar...

I once read a blog or something that was called “The 99 People You Will Meet in College” and thought, hey Michelle, why don’t you do a Madagascar version of that. So…here we are.

The, not quite 99, people you will meet in Madagascar

1.       The Money Collector on the Taxi-Be

In order for the Taxi-Be system to run efficiently (and Taxi-Be’s are public buses, not to be confused with regular Taxis) Mr. Money Collector is vital. So far, the qualifications that I’ve noticed that are necessary for this job include:

                Ability to whistle – he does this when someone shouts “Misy Mialo” on the Taxi-Be indicating that they’d like it to stop

                Ability to occasionally be a contortionist – Mr. Money Collector is the last one to board the Taxi-Be which can sometimes have up to 20 people crammed inside. There is no sense of personal space on the Taxi-Be, so they like to run at full capacity, which is usually 17-18 people in what I believe is a 12 passenger van. Mr. Money Collector therefore must literally wedge himself into the bus, and sometimes even hang out the back. He is a bit of a thrill seeker.

                Ability to quickly count money – The system to pay for the Taxi-Be is a bit like organized chaos. It costs 300 Ariary to ride the bus (about 15 cents) so usually bus riders will pay with and 100 Ariary and 200 Ariary bill. These are the smallest form of paper currency and usually are the most decrepit bills you will ever see. Sometimes it’s very difficult to decipher which bill you have received because it is so crinkled and covered in dirt.

Money you get from the bank...

Money you get on the bus...

                Mr. Money Collector has this down to an art though and collects money with impressive efficiency. You do have to occasionally make your own change among the other bus riders or persistently demand for change when he cannot immediately give you your change.

                Ability to be Efficient - Lastly he quickly shuffles people on and off the bus since half of the bus must move out when someone in the back shouts “Misy Mialo!”

2.       The Flirt

In Madagascar, there seem to be three popular forms of getting a woman’s attention.

 The first involves a “tissss tissss” noise that one makes with their tongue. Usually these flirters are doing this from afar and are hoping that you’ll respond to the snake-like noise. I can’t imagine they’re too successful with this method, but it doesn’t stop them from trying.

The second is the strategic flirt. This flirter is one that passes you on the street; however, he waits until you’re exactly ear and ear walking in opposite directions to spit some game. This game is usually a drawn out “Bonjooour” or a “tut tut” noise or something incomprehensible in Malagasy. We’ve decided that this type of flirter fears rejection and that is why he waits until you’ve almost passed him to initiate contact.

The third is the unabashed stare. He enterprises on the cultural norm of staring and does so all day. Out the window of his car. On his motorcycle. From his produce stand. Next to you on the bus. Sitting in a doorway. At a table in your restaurant. It’s best not to reciprocate the eye contact or he takes this as an open invitation.

3.       The “Bumming It” Europeans

Aside from the Adventure French (!) who will make an appearance on this list at a later point, the other vahsa that we regularly encounter are the bumming it Europeans. These vahsa do not dress in chic adventure clothes or ride motorcycles, but rather sport Hawaiian shirts, do not shave their beards and frequent the slightly less fancy vahsa establishments. It seems like these Europeans think that by wearing Hawaiian shirts and disregarding their personal appearance, they will fit in with the locals. Perhaps they do not realize that by the very fact that they could afford a plane ticket to Madagascar, and are therefore vahsa, they cannot hide wealth with a shabby appearance. Overall, they are also much less fit than the Adventure French (!) and spend their time drinking beer and smoking cigarettes in Internet cafes. I hope not to be associated with them.

 

4.       The Phone Credit Salesmen (and women!)

The phone credit salespeople sit under little umbrellas in white plastic chairs on the side of the road. They are spaced about 50 feet from one another and sell strips of phone credit out of pocketbooks and man-satchels. The do not often speak French and interact with us vahsa through gesturing and pointing. Often, vahsa might feel shady buying 10000 Ariary worth of paper from a man or woman sitting under an orange and yellow beach umbrella, but this is the way of buying phone credit, so we get over it.

5.       The Street Vendor who sells a traditional Malagasy musical instrument

This street vendor tends to be a little bit more forward and aggressive than others. Surprisingly, most of the street vendors who sell these musical instruments have learned the exact same words in English that they will use every time they encounter a vahsa. The interactions go a little bit like this:

*Walking down the side walk, spotted by instrument vendor*

Instrument Vendor: Ah! Bonjour!

Vahsa: Tsy misy! (One of the few Malagasy phrases we all know by heart meaning “I have nothing for you”)

IV: Oh but for good price *blocks  your path so that you have to walk in the street to exit the conversation*

Vahsa: Tsy misy! No merci!

IV: But it good price and so nice *plays chord on instrument*

Vahsa: *Walk in street, avoid getting hit by car, get spotted by another IV, repeat interaction*

Other vendors have different approaches. It depends on where you are in the city. Some will follow you for up to 10 minutes saying  “Misy! Misy!” which, loosely translated would mean “You have! You have!”  Others  might choose one member of the group and try to isolate them and bombard them with items for sale. …I’ve had this happen to me by the street children and it’s been my least pleasant experience so far. Other than that, the vendors are a large part of the Tana experience. You almost can’t go anywhere and not find a few. Some are nicer than others, but it’s luck of the draw who you will encounter.

6.       The woman who wears high heels despite the condition of the streets

This woman is one of the most bizarre. She walks on her tippy toes, crosses streets slowly and refuses to accept foot-defeat in a city that is paved with something similar to cobblestone. She always looks chic and seems to be emulating Western fashions. There’s not too much to say about her, but she’s pretty easy to find on a given day.

7.       The Vahsa

This wouldn’t be a complete list without mention of the vahsa. The vasha stand out like vampires in the movie Twilight on a sunny day. Our skin might as well sparkle because we stand no chance of fitting in. Tonight while I was walking to my house it was getting dark and I wondered to myself “Maybe no one can tell that I’m a vahsa in the dark…” then I realized that I’m so pale that my skin becomes luminescent at night and my chances of fitting in were even less.

The vahsa frequent vahsa establishments which include overpriced restaurants and “Africanized Gift Shops” , demand drinks with no ice, carry around obnoxious bottles of Eau Vive and carry their bags around their stomachs like they’re 7 months pregnant with twins. The vahsa don’t know the appropriate time to cross the street, get attacked by street vendors and are hopelessly challenged at speaking Malagasy.

8.       The Taxi Drivers

The taxi drivers stand in little gatherings near their parked cars. The little gatherings are like Boy’s Clubs were the taxi drivers smoke cigarettes, talk about the girls walking by and speak in Malagasy while motioning to their respective cabs. The funny thing about the cab drivers is that each one of them will ask you if you need a taxi even after hearing your previous rejections of their taxi driver cohorts. Every single day they will behave in the same way with the hopes that we will eventually need a taxi.

9.       The man who sits in a doorway and asks you if you’d like to exchange money

I cannot imagine a sketchier situation than exchanging money with a man who sits in a doorway. As you’re walking down the street the man will casually ask you if you’d like to exchange. That’s pretty much the gist… maybe if I fall on desperate times, such as a weekend when the banks are not open, I’ll resort to taking him up on the offer.

To be continued…