Beyond the Island
Bennett and I enjoy a meal out in Paris, sponsored by our wonderful parents
It’s been a busy three months. My final few weeks in Madagascar went by in a flash. I spent three of those weeks in the rainforest catching frogs and emerged with some (potentially) exciting results. The science world moves slowly, so I won’t have any concrete answers to share until fall at the earliest. But I can offer a glimpse at the beauty of the rainforest with a few photos.
Swimming in a jungle pool, Mantadia National Park
Evariste holding Boophis madagascariensis, who has inflated after being caught
Gene and I and our respective host dads at the local bar
Where I got my haircut in Antananarivo
Every day I went out with my wonderful guide, Evariste, to explore a new section of rainforest. Sometimes we went where we knew the frog densities would be highest. Sometimes we went where the scenery was most magnificent. Evariste and I searched for frogs in Pandanus trees, a genus of tree that features wide, yucca like leaves covered in spikes. My hands and clothes were properly shredded by the time I left.
Then, while I could’ve been writing up a final blog post for my treasured readership, I was instead hammering away at my final frog report. I finished it up back in Rennes, France, where my journey began six months ago. Bennett was a generous host once again, and this time my French was good enough that his translation skills were scarcely needed. I’ve been (mostly) in France so far this summer, and the culture shock still hasn’t completely worn off. It’s not so much the wealth; although the high-speed rail system, squeaky clean streets and boutique shops have made an impression.
Bennett on the Trombone at a jazz club in Rennes
It’s rather the difference in people. For three months, I was welcomed in Madagascar by some of the kindest people I’ve ever met. The program center groundskeepers taught me dance moves. My host family treated me like their own son. And my guide Evariste invited me to his home to share food and drink, as our professional relationship became a friendship.
France has been tricky for me because I sometimes feel like I’m walking on my tiptoes. At the moment I’m staying on a goat farm in the North, earlier in the summer I stayed on a farm in the Southwest. Both host farms have been friendly, but not warm. I’ve noticed an ingrained feeling of cultural superiority: the last farmers laughed in my face when I told them that Wisconsin makes good cheese! When they ask questions about my life in the US, the conversation steers usually towards, “Why do you have so many guns? Why don’t you have healthcare or paid vacation time? Do you like Joe Biden?” And I get it. The US is a global embarrassment. But after I spent three months in a former French colony, I’m not sure the French have a leg to stand on. My college educated Malagasy host dad, for example, worked for a French company. He was paid less than 1% of what his un-educated white colleagues received.
Papillon, my favorite goat on my current farm
Luckily, the xenophobia and snootiness has been mostly restricted to French people above the age of 40. Bennett and I toured the South of France and made friends our age in every city we visited. At one bar we went up to a guy wearing a graphic tee with an American flag on it.
“We like your shirt, we are American!”
Instant pals. Free shots all around. He invited us to the vineyard he works at, introduced us to all his friends. And at the next city it was more of the same. So I hope I haven’t come off as anti-French. This is, after all the country that makes the second-best cheese in the world. More than anything, I’m hopeful for the increase in cultural exchange that’s already happening in my generation. A great number of my friends have studied away in the past year, or plan to in the future. And social media, for all its mind-numbingness, has done wonders to foster a common sense of global identity.
A salamander I found in the Pyrenees
I am so grateful for my time abroad so far, not just because of the chocolate croissants and tropical waterfalls but because I’ve gotten a chance to see the different ways in which people live. In Madagascar, children are valued above everything, and the men stand in the yard and play petanque as the sun sets. In France, there are no phones at the dinner table and the bread is baked in heaven. In Germany (where I spent a week visiting my dear friend Arlen) the club music is not quite my taste, but the parks are utopian in quality. Still to come for me is Prague and Croatia, where I will no doubt make more generalizations while having some fun on the side.
Arlen and I have a beer in the middle of a waterfall, downtown Munich
It might not be a surprise that this will be the last blog post. It did, after all, take me three months to write. I have some big projects coming up this year, and as they are completed, I’ll post them on my website to share with you all. In the meantime, thanks again for reading the blog! I’ll see you around.