I'm not trying to draw any parallels between J.V.'s troubles and us volunteers', but mental turmoil was definitely the name of the game for a few weeks there. Basically it was way more PCVs than either Mantasoa or the Fianar Meva are meant to accomodate, crammed together for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for circumstances completely out of our control to either sort themselves out and send us back to site, or continue to worsen and force us back to the US, without a chance to finish up any of our projects, say goodbye to the people we'd been living and working with, or even retrieve our stuff. Add to that the Mahatsara Sud-esque isolation of Mantasoa and the lack of information other than one daily briefing from a Peace Corps staff member and you have a group of kids who are stressed, but so out of the loop that the natural thing to do just seems to be enjoying Mantasoa. Unless maybe you were in the group that had already been there for two weeks. I can't speak for them. Personally, I was sad and worried about Madagascar and Mika and my village, and desperately not wanting to leave, but I didn't know what I could do about it. I ruled out going to Tana and giving the president and the ex-mayor a piece of my mind (logistical complications) and ended up playing ping-pong.
The other issue was that people's feelings about the situation and our options ran the entire spectrum from "let's just evacuate now" (because they're sure the country's going to fall apart/tired of Madagascar/can't stand one more day in Camp Mantasoa limbo-land) to "surely I could just wait out a civil war at site?" (my position). For the most part a peaceful coexistence prevailed, but I certainly perceived a lot of (mostly) unspoken tension.
Now let's backtrack to where the last episode left off: I've just arrived at the Fianar Meva. This was consolidation lite; we were advised not to go wandering around the Magro or the places where people were holding rallies, but we didn't have to stay inside the Meva and we could go to the internet cafe, the post office, the market, restaurants etc. There were 10 of us from the Fianar region staying in the house and I'd say the atmosphere was cramped and merry, with equal parts exasperation and doom. It started off with us all comparing notes and opinions on the situation thus far, and basically agreeing that we should be back at our sites after a few days. But a few days went by and the crisis seemed to be getting worse. We were getting our news from occasional calls and text messages from PC, CNN.com, and a Gasy site in French called sobika.com. Much was vague and unconfirmed. The mayor had declared himself in charge of everything. The military and the gendarmes might have switched to his side. A giant hurricane might be headed for the east coast. Until February 3rd things seemed to be getting a little better, and we got texts from PC saying that the country was calm and they were "cautiously optimistic," but we should plan on being in consolidation for at least a few more days. On the 4th, however, the bad news started again:
"TANA - very tense. president fired TGV [nickname of the mayor and also name of his party] last night. TGV refuses to accept. rumours abound. STAY in place...more to follow. PCO"
The next day Tana was surprisingly calm, but we heard a minister's plane had been burned in Farafangana (south-east coast) and that night Manakara (the next city south of Mananjary on the east coast) went crazy. ("TANA CALM, but manakara erupted last night. PCVs en route to fianar now. clearly situation still fluid. stay tuned. pco") There were four PCVs consolidated at a hotel there, and they all arrived in Fianar the next day, understandably shaken-up. Their hotel had been right in the middle of the area where people starting fighting and there had been gunshots and Molotov cocktails and noise and confusion all around. They were barricaded into their hotel room, though at some point I think the army arrived to protect the hotel.
Here I think I'll mention that at the start of consolidation PC gave everyone the option, during the following month, to leave PC Madagascar. Normally if you want to leave before your 27 months are up you have to E.T. (early termination). During this period we were given the option of I.O.S. (interruption of service), which I guess is like an honorable discharge and you get the same benefits as if you had COS'ed (close of service, the normal 27 month finish). I know that many people considered this option, and several took it.
February 7 was a strange, sad, and scary day. There was a big protest scheduled and everyone was waiting to see what would happen. PC texted us in the morning that they were all on standby and that there was a crowd gathering in downtown Tana. The strange thing for us in Fianar was that while we were getting updates from PC every few hours, we were also following the day's events on sobika.com, which was being updated every few minutes with brief bits of news: crowd marching towards president's office; crowd have now reached so-and-so; military firing on crowd; at least two dead so far; people are running away. Those aren't quotes. But it went something like that. I talked to Eliko that night and I think we both assumed evacuation was inevitable. She had heard that our country director was in a meeting with the ambassador and PC Washington about a potential evacuation. I called Mika, who said I should go back to Mahatsara Sud because Fianar might not be safe. I felt terrible telling him that PC might just send me back to the United States. And then? And then I don't know.
They ended up deciding to move us Fianar people to Mantasoa, with a bunch of other regional consolidation groups. We left the next day at 6am.
8 Feb, 12:04 "10AM Tana calmed overnight but future cloudier than ever. further PC consolidation ongoing. thanks for all your help!"
Arriving at Mantasoa was like a class reunion -- hugs and screaming all around -- but you could see the strain in some people. Many had already been there for a long time, and with things looking worse politically, they didn't know what to expect for the future. They were eating American food. They were doing some (very cold) canoeing. Everyone had watched The Dark Knight three or four times. Puzzles. Beer. Welcome to Mantasoa consolidation.
If there had been 80 Jean Valjeans imprisoned at a lake resort with nothing to do and a small island's worth of rum and beer, well, maybe they would have ended up doing some Speed Dating and morning Cardio-Breakfast-Boogie (available on VHS) too. Just to pass the time.
Next up: Mantasoa back to site
If there had been 80 Jean Valjeans imprisoned at a lake resort with nothing to do and a small island's worth of rum and beer, well, maybe they would have ended up doing some Speed Dating and morning Cardio-Breakfast-Boogie (available on VHS) too. Just to pass the time.
Next up: Mantasoa back to site
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