The "Itch" Factor....

Well, now that I have gained vast expertise in this area, I can confirm that flea bites are more itchy (itchier?) than mosquito bites. Yes, the plague of fleas that have infested the 5th floor of our building have now come to roost, and bite the crap out of me, on the 4th floor as well. I was hoping against hope that the bites on my leg when I woke up a few days ago were from some rogue mosquito. Then I saw the little jerk…and he was a flea! Although I killed him in a flurry of punishment that would have made Muhammad Ali proud, the little creep must have reproduced somewhere. Now I’ve got bites on my legs, my arms, my back, my feet, everywhere! Not my face though, luckily. Yet.

Thank goodness I’m residing in a populated area and have access to potent chemical solutions to end this problem. Not. Fortunately I have parents who think ahead and sent a care package of bug bombs and doggie flea collars (no, that’s not a joke, I will put them on my pant legs…I guess our military currently does this in the Middle East to battle flea issues) when they heard there might be a flea problem. Now, I just have to sit and patiently wait for this package to arrive and then I’m going to go ape on these fleas. I don’t care if the headquarter offices are below the residential floors…I’m blowing these little jerks from here to kingdom come with these bug bombs.

So there you have it, that’s my strategery once my arms shipment arrives.

In other random news, I went for a nice little Saturday stroll down to the market just to check things out and almost got run over by a cow. No, not a bull. A cow. You really have to be NOT paying attention to what you’re doing to have a near collision with a cow…the only animal that might, quite possibly, be slower than a cow is a turtle. I don’t know why, but a herd of cattle being bustled down the street wasn’t really on the forefront of my mind that afternoon. Fortunately my sixth sense of impending doom and catlike reflexes saved me from the dire situation. No really, I just looked up…slowly stepped to my right…and let the cow continue to jog down the hill. Sorry, very anti-climactic. Although judging by the reaction of the locals to the situation they sure seemed to think they were going to see a game of cow vs. “vazaha” (foreigner or white person – kids point at me and say that all the time, lol) “smear the queer.”

Alas, I didn’t even make it to the market that afternoon. After what we will heretofore refer to as “The Cow Incident,” I was stopped by a local elderly gentleman who wanted to talk to me in English…gee, I wonder what gave it away that I might speak English? Anyway, I couldn’t understand much because of his heavy accent and the fact that he didn’t know much English (although he knows much more English than I know French or Malagasy!). However, I was able to figure out that he wanted me to give him an English Bible. Of course, I am a foreigner who sticks out like a sore thumb around here, naturally, I have Bibles, lol. Actually, I do, well, I did. After I went back to headquarters and gave him my Bible, he invited me to have dinner with his family in a town about 20 km away. I politely declined because obviously it wouldn’t be too wise to travel by myself to a stranger’s house that was far away, but he said he was coming back to town next month and would like to practice more English. I told him when he’s in town next month to swing by the headquarters and have the security guard come get me. If I’m there, I’d be more than happy to have another little impromptu English practice session in front of the HQ. Hopefully Gil, Ben, or Sarah will be around to help translate so I can understand more what he says. We’ll see if he shows up.

Last random sidenote: today a pushcart rolled up at our headquarters and disposed of a dead body in a coffin, covered with a sheet. The coffin was just chillin there by the side of the road…I guess waiting to be picked up and taken to its final destination. Every time I’d look out the window this afternoon…“oh yeah, there’s a coffin.” Definitely no shortage of randomness in Madagascar. Love it!



Yo! You forgot something!

Q & A

I’ve been asked some excellent questions by my friends back home about life in Madagascar. Some of these questions are so creative and well thought out… well, I figured I would answer them just in case other inquiring minds want to know… So, the following is a list of my most favorite questions I’ve received to date:

1. “Can you shoot **** over there?”
- Um, I don’t know. Maybe? If you get caught, I suspect you need to be prepared to pay a huge bribe or die…whatever the police are in the mood for that day.

2. “What kind of big game is there to shoot?”
- No real big game in Madagascar, at least not what you think of when you think of Africa. That’s all on the mainland. In Madagascar, the animals are way less dangerous. There are really no huge predator animals like lions and cheetahs, etc.


3. “So…what is there to shoot over there?”
- W.T.H.?

4. “Have you seen a lot of people with spears?”
- This isn’t Bill and Ted’s Excellent adventure. I didn’t jump into a time machine. Life is hard for the Malagasy, particularly in the remote regions, but it’s not like we’re making contact with lost tribes, lol.

5. “How many lemurs have you seen?”
- Zero. Unfortunately there are very few in the region I am headquartered at and the region our project site is. There are lots of species of lemurs, but you have to go to certain regions and national parks to have a decent chance of seeing them. Hopefully I’ll get to visit one of those parks before I leave.

6. "Is it really inexpensive over there?”
a. Yes and no. Veggies are cheap. Fruit’s cheap. Flour’s cheap. Coca Cola’s cheap. Rice is very cheap.
b. But imported stuff like olive oil, cereal, etc. is expensive (meaning it’s about regular U.S. pricing, which is extremely expensive for Madagascar).
c. Hotels are generally inexpensive compared to America. When I go out to the field in the coastal region, I can eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at a hotely (restaurant) for about $5-7 a day.
d. Pousse-Pousse’s (rickshaws) cost about 500 Ariary depending on the distance (2000 Ariary is equal to $1 USD). So, about 25 cents to be carried across town.
e. Ben and Gil hired a personal masseuse for about 5000-7000 Ariary an hour.
f. We hire a housecleaner every Friday for 3000 Ariary for 3 hours.

Anyway, those are the questions that immediately come to mind, if I think of more, I’ll add them. Feel free add questions to the comment section…although I’m ignoring all gun-related/shooting questions from here on out, lol.

Patience is a virtue...

Well, as I am now awake listening to the bazillionth dog fight outside my window, I have a little time to sit back and reflect upon the joys of implementing public health initiatives in the developing world.

After 3 weeks here, I can safely say that I’ve learned as much in this little time as I learned in most of my last 2 years in graduate school. It’s a different type of learning, however…more “real life” learning. During my short time here, I’ve been exposed to enough to form the opinion that any Global Health program that doesn’t require its students to spend significant time overseas in a developing country working on public health projects is a MAJORLY crappy program.

I’ve come to the conclusion that all those fun little in-class activities and million page papers are pretty much worth jack out in the field. Sure they helped increase my knowledge of certain subject matter and improved my critical thinking skills, but out in the field, it’s back to the very basics and all this theory stuff that looks pretty on paper within the confines of an air-conditioned classroom is practically useless.

When I came to Madagascar, I had no idea what to expect as far as the national disaster management policy. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that at the national level, they actually have a fairly solid structure in place for disaster management. Had I not been thrown out into the bush my first days here I would probably still be sitting in our project headquarters here in Ambositra thinking to myself “so, what’s the problem here? There’s already a legit structure in place…” However, the second you step into the field, it becomes quite clear that there is a massive disconnect between what government officials at the national and regional levels say and what is actually done at the commune or fokontany (village) levels. When Charly and I travelled to the rural communes and talked with the Maires, while most knew the disaster preparedness system that was mandated by the government, no one in the communes or fokontany actually adopted that system and practiced it.

Much of that disconnect is due to the fact that the communes and fokontany are so remote and the roads to get in and out are horrible and sometimes not even passable with a vehicle (some villages it would take us 3-4 hours of practically 4-wheeling to get to the village, then 3-4 hours back). There is no electricity and there is little, if any, running water. People are more concerned about survival each and every day than they are about what might happen a week, a month, or even a year from now. I can’t say I blame them really, I’m sure I too would probably be focused more on the immediate future than long-term if I were in that situation.


Road to Vohilava Commune

Another factor is the way of thinking that is ingrained in many of the people. I don’t know if it comes from years of French colonialism or being used to socialism, but people seem content to wait for the government to come in and build solid buildings for them that can withstand high winds and flooding. They seem fine with letting the government take care of their problems instead of taking control of the situation and doing something about it themselves. It’s a way of thinking I cannot comprehend and it can be extremely frustrating to deal with. But that’s the reality of the situation and that’s the current mindset that we have to deal with and try to change.


Some homes on the way to Vohilava


Some school kids in Vohilava.

The first step will be to convince village leaders that it is good to prepare for disasters and bad to simply rely on the government to swoop in and take care of them (particularly with the volatility and widespread corruption of the current government that came to power essentially through a coup). This will be the most difficult part of this project. Once we get these leaders on board, we can help them set up plans specific to their fokontany, we can provide them basic materials to set up an early warning system, our infrastructure teams can help them build proper storm drains and shore up dams so their crops aren’t ruined every time a cyclone passes through. There is a lot we can do to help, it just all depends on how successful we are at altering their way of thinking and teaching them how to utilize their wealth of natural resources to build stronger communities. The first step is simply helping them see the benefits of taking charge of their lives and not relying on others to come in and do it for them.


The situation sounds quite dire, and it is, but one good thing is that we’ve been getting positive feedback from the Maires we’ve talked with. Additionally, many of the Malagasy people seem willing to take part in this effort. We aren't meeting the resistance you sometimes run up against when trying to implement new public health programs in a developing country. I believe a lot of this has to do with ADRA's approach to development. We don't just come in making demands and telling people this is what they have to do. We spent 2 months (prior to my arrival) sending agents into the field, talking with locals and ascertaining what the needs truly were (as they might be different than what we perceive the needs to be). Only after that did we finalize our plan and present it to commune maires and village leaders. After we received their support of our proposed plan did we proceed to attempt to implement this plan.

This approach is critical when working in the developing world. Us westerners like to come in with all the answers to everything. :) But that's not the way to gain people's support and implement successful, sustainable development programs. You first need to understand the needs in the region, the barriers to meeting those needs, the cultural mindset, and a million other things before you dive in with your perfect little programs.


Meeting with the Maire of Vohilava. Those benchs were fun to sit on for 2 hours!

Anyway, the maires and village leaders do seem interested in working with us to set up disaster preparedness and response plans. I think they want to do strengthen their communities but they just have no idea how. They need someone to help show them how to properly set up these types of systems and since the national government is not in any shape to do this, hopefully they will see the opportunity we are presenting to them and take advantage of the help we are able to offer. Should they choose to work with us (and it looks like they will), there definitely is hope, it’s just going to be a very long road. However, there absolutely is hope that things can improve here. This makes me happy for several reasons: that what I am doing is not in total vain as well as the fact that the Malagasy people on the whole are great people, they definitely deserve to have stronger communities and have a better quality of life.

Random pics from field trip to Manajary

One of the districts ADRA is implementing the disaster preparedness program is Mananjary (prounounced MAN-AN-ZAR-Y) on the southeast coast of the island. My first week here, I joined the project's disaster management specialist in the field. We visited several communes and villages in the area to ascertain what type of disaster preparedness and mitigation system they had in place. Not surprisingly, many of these rural villages had nothing whatsoever.

Here are some pictures of the trip:


One of the towns we stopped at during our 6 hour journey to Mananjary. The landscape is quite different here than in Ambositra. Ambositra is in the central highlands and is a little colder. As we come down from the highlands, you can see the landscape turn much more tropical


People in this town.


A view of the Indian Ocean from Mananjary.


Downtown Mananjary


More downtown Mananjary



The road we took to get to one of the more remote villages. It took us an hour and a half to go 10 miles on this road.


Some children watching a game of pick-up soccer in on of the villages




Vohilava - One of the villages covered in our program.


Hangin' out on the jungle gym...


Dugout canoe


Laundromat


A road we were supposed to take to one of our villages. Obviously it is washed out and we couldn't cross.


Local cattle farmer we passed on our way to Vohilava

The horn is mightier than the brake...

One thing that is always fun/wet-your-pants scary in the developing world is driving. What we in the U.S. would call “laws,” people in developing countries call “suggestions”…or “pesky details.”

I’m pretty sure I was oblivious to this during my first trip to Africa…I just thought “gee, this is a fun ride!” Then, I started realizing the potential seriousness of the situation when one of my friends and I hopped into a Jeepney our first day in the Philippines a couple summers ago, had to stand/squat because it was overflowing, and were nearly flung out the back when the Jeepney peeled off like a bat out of hell. Another clue came when I noticed one of the Filipinos “Hail Mary” crossing himself as we barreled down the road during another Jeepney trip, lol.

Alas, Madagascar is no different. Seatbelts…what are those??? Motorcycle helmets…huh? In addition, it’s probably the craziest road infrastructure I’ve experienced in any of my travels. The national roads are full of massive ditches and are narrow enough to be what public safety overlords in the U.S. would deem “one-way” roads. The roads snake through the mountains (and even the flat areas…I have no idea why), so if you are predisposed to getting car sick, you are going to have a really hard time in the country. The taxi-brousses all have doggie bags available for passengers during the trips and apparently it’s very rare they go unused. This was one of the first questions I was asked when I got back to Ambositra after my initial taxi-brousse experience…”so, how many people got sick?” (By the way, the answer was only one person…although she was ralphing directly behind me…hellooooo dry heave). That question was followed by another one of my favs: “so, what animals were in the taxi brousse this time?” WTH!?! Ben and Gil told me when they took the taxi one of the passengers brought his chickens along for the ride, haha.

There are no sidewalks here either, so everyone just walks in the middle of the road. As John, the project director so aptly put: “people here are not afraid to die.” So basically, what might normally be a leisurely little drive across town is more like a game of high-stakes chicken with humans, cattle, dogs and actual chickens. Here, drivers just honk their horns when they’re driving through crowds. Or around blind corners. Or in the dark…when they don’t have their lights on for who knows what reason and no one can see them. All is fine if you just honk.

Incredibly, in all my visits to developing countries, rarely have I seen an accident….although I know serious accidents occur all the time with this type of crazy driving. However, today we had a big accident outside our project HQ here in Ambositra. I was working on a paper and I heard this loud BANG, then a lot of shouting. When one of my coworkers and I went outside, a crowd had already formed just down the street. One of the witnesses said a dude on a motorbike (no helmet, of course) came flying around a corner and slammed head on into a car coming the opposite direction. The guy flew over the hood of the car, Chuck Norris rolled off the back, then stood right up…WHAT THE!?! Are you kidding me? We later found out he only had a laceration on his foot, but he was fine, walking around, chatting with the witnesses. Unbelievable. Fortunately, the driver of the car was fine as well.

Anyway, it was quite the event this afternoon in Ambositra. The crash drew the attention of many locals in the town, children coming home from school, and most of our staff who stood out on the balconies of our offices watching the aftermath scenes unfold…but curiously, not the police. I have no idea where they were, none of us ever saw them during the entire 3 hours it took to clean up the crash and push the car to its final destination down the street. They’re probably too busy making a killing off the bribes garnered from the roadside blocks just outside of town…

Here are some photos:


View of the motorbike versus car wreck from our office.


The crowd didn't disperse for a good 2 hours.



We don't need no stinkin' AAA!!! View from my room of the car being pushed somewhere yonder.

Culinary Adventures: Developing World Edition

Yeah, yeah, yeah, so anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly "skilled" in the culinary arts. In fact, when I'm done with my cooking (and I use that term loosely) the kitchen usually looks more like a military missile testing site than an area typically used by humans to prepare food.

Well, I'm here today to announce that I'm turning over a new leaf: I'm learning how to cook. Not by my own free will, mind you, but by force...and significant force at that. No more mommy cooking for me, or college cafeteria...or moving back in with the folks after college and having mommy cook for me some more, or living on takeout in grad. school, or most recently, convincing my husband to cook for me after 2-a-day wrestling practices then jiu-jitsu coaching each day.

No. No. Here, I must cook for myself if I want to eat. This could, quite possibly, be the hardest adjustment for me during my stay in Madagascar. To make matters worse, it's "developing world" cooking, aka, there is no microwave. WTF?!? No "ready-to-eat" meals. Nope. Everything here must be prepared from scratch, and I mean scratch.

Our fruits and veggies, after bartering for them at the local market, must go through a rigorous process of bleaching prior to consumption. Yummy! You want milk with those cornflakes, you better boil the milk the night before to kill the bacteria. Want some Malagasy rice with your meal, pick out as many stones from the rice as possible prior to cooking it or else you might just crack a tooth (sidenote: Ben totally bit down on a rock in the rice during our meal at lunch today and Gil and I could hear it from across the table...I noticed he seemed to be swallowing his bites whole the rest of the meal, lolol!)

But the best is preparing homemade bread from scratch. Tonight it was my turn to prepare and bake the bread. No fancy bread mixing machines or measuring cups, just a plastic bucket thing, flour, and a few other ingredients. To prove that I am refining my culinary skills to absolute perfection, Gil took pics of me making the house bread... :D


I color-coordinated my top with the bread basin and the tile in preparation for this pic...



Look Ma!!!!


So there you have it, proof positive that I can do something right in the kitchen. Dad, make sure mom sees these pics!

We gots fleas!!!

Well, luckily my room has been spared from the plague…so far. But all the other living quarters in our building are infested with fleas. Where are the bug bombs when you need them??? Actually, I don’t even know if those work for fleas. Maybe a doggie collar would’ve been more prudent to pack than mosquito spray… Here in the central highlands we’re basically out of the malaria zone and my DEET spray spends its days sitting pretty in the corner. Note to self for next time.

Anyway, I don’t even know how we got onto this flea discussion over dinner, maybe it stemmed from watching a line of ants marching toward the main entrée on our dinner table, or swatting flies off our plates throughout the duration of the meal. Whatever the case, Gil and Ben informed me they have fleas in their room; Gil was even kind enough to show me the bites on her arms and legs. O…M…G.

Fortunately for me, all the furniture in my room is new (they think the fleas got on stuff in the storage warehouse, but my furniture was ordered just for me and came brand new from Tana :D ) and I live on a separate floor from them…although that provides me with minimal solace as I’m sure my room will be infested within the week. Until then, I will keep myself busy lighting fires in my room, or maybe I’ll just use the DEET spray and pray that works. :D

Je ne comprendes pas!

One thing I’ve really never thought too much about when travelling is the language barrier. While I try to learn the greetings and VERY basics of the language of the countries I’m in to be a polite visitor, I’ve always been able to fall back on my English. Every time I’ve visited Europe, I’ve been in big cities where most people speak at least a little English or been with friends who speak German and French. During my trip to Africa in ’01, we stayed in British-colonized countries, so English was most peoples’ second language. In the Philippines, again, people spoke enough English for us to communicate effectively. And in Mexico and Central America, I never really thought the language as a barrier because after 5 years of taking Spanish, I know enough to get by.

This is not the case in Madagascar…there is no more weaseling my way through each day with some English here and there. It’s Malagasy and French. Sometimes a combination of both which is even more confusing.

I guess I should make a correction here: people here know some English…enough to say “You don’t speak French?” while looking at me like I’m a complete idiot. I try to explain that I learned Spanish because it’s more useful in the U.S…but that’s almost certainly lost in translation. So, pretty much, I feel like a total ignoramus…and an uncomfortable one at that. I’m a talker. I like to yap. When I’m not talking and am quiet, I feel like I’m being snobby and rude to people. It’s also very isolating.

I think it finally hit home today (how screwed I am) when the project director emailed me a bunch of national disaster management documents. In French. My job this week is to translate them into English. Naturally, the first step in accomplishing this task is writing a blog about how much my French linguistic skills suck tuna water.

Anyway, I’m determined that not only during this trip am I going to soak up experience with disaster management, but I’m also going to become AT LEAST survivable in French. Maybe I won’t be able to interpret complicated policy documents, but I’ll be darned if I can’t speak at least a little French before I return to the U.S.

Luckily 2 of the workers here, Ben, and his wife, Gil, are from France and the UK, so they can speak both languages as well as some Malagasy. They’ve kindly offered to help me interpret all these disaster policy documents, and Ben even offered to give me French lessons at night. I’m very excited about the prospect of learning how to communicate at least a little bit better in French. Regardless of how much I won’t be using it back in the U.S., I think it’s important that I use my time here trying to learn the language and doing everything I can to soak up the culture.

So…wish me luck. Au revoir! haha

"Bush" Taxi

So, the “taxi brousse” system here in Madagascar is an experience no one should miss. In fact, I honestly don’t think you can be whole until you’ve experienced the “taxi brousse”….

The taxi brousse, or the “bush” taxi, or as I like to call it the “OMG-did-they-just-hand-me-a-wrench-to-roll-up –my-window” taxi, or the “no-sir-not-one-more-human-being-can-fit-in-this” taxi, or quite simply, the “taxi from hell” is a local transportation system set up in Madagascar. It consists of a VW-like van, crammed with at least 20 people inside (much akin to the packing of sardines), winding (and when I saying winding, I mean winding...straight roads are nonexistent in Madagascar, so you are up a creek if you are prone to car sickness) through the roads of Madagascar (and when I say roads, I mean pot-hole infested, hit-your-head-on-the-ceiling roads we would think of as “fire roads” in the mountains in the States), stopping at a minimum of every five minutes to pick up hitchers, drop off hitchers, take a pee break, pay a bribe at the police road stops, or just to stop for the sheer glory of stopping and taking as long as humanly possible to get to your destination. Fortunately, fare is cheap and it covers all bribery encountered along the way.

Naina (the infrastructure guy for ADRA’s SALOHI program) and I were afforded the opportunity of a lifetime to experience the “taxi brousse” when we needed to travel from Manajary (pronounced Man-AN-ZAR) back to the project headquarters in Ambositra (approximately 300 km away, a trip that should normally be around 5 hours). The driver who was supposed to take us got stuck out in the bush with another ADRA employee due to the heavy rainfall. So the taxi brousse was our only other option of transit.

So, we started our fantastic voyage Friday morning at 6:15 am when the taxi brousse picked us up at the hotel:


...and ended up at our destination well after 8:00 pm. Yes, it took over 13 hours, crammed in this ridiculous taxi, to get from Mananjary to Ambositra. I laughed, I cried, I almost died…it was an experience to never forget, and hopefully seldom repeat.

From now on, I promise to never make fun of John for asking our driver to stop a few times for crepes. And God love Madagascar, but I seriously hope one of ADRA’s drivers is available for all future trips to and from project sites…



The van was only halfway full here...not kidding.


Chicken anyone? One of our 5 bazillion stops along the way.


One of our final stops (besides my personal fav, the "pee" break 5 km before our final destination).

SALOHI Project

Before I blog more about my experiences here, I want to talk about the program I’m helping with…you know, like the entire reason I’m here in the first place?

In 2009, ADRA, in conjunction with Catholic Relief Services (CRS), CARE, and Land O’Lakes submitted a grant proposal to USAID and FFP (Food For Peace) to obtain funding for a project called “Strengthening Accessing and Livelihoods Opportunities for Household Impact (SALOHI). The NGO’s were awarded the grant and the program, worth approximate $79 million, began in December.

SALOHI is a 5-year program and the primary goal of ADRA’s component in this program is to increase food security in 250 communities of its six assigned districts that include Ambositra, Manandriana, Fandriana, Ifanadiana, Mananjary, and Nosy Varika. This will be obtained through three major objectives: improving health capacities in these communities, improving infrastructure, and helping rural communities proactively establish disaster preparedness and mitigation plans.

The third objective is the one I am primarily involved with as I have tailored my MPH to specialize in disaster preparedness and response. My master’s thesis is an evaluation of the disaster management portion of program (well, the evaluation I am able to do during my relatively short 3 months here). During my time here, I will be observing the evaluation portion of the program, help field agents collect data that enables them to build region-specific disaster preparedness and response plans, and help shape policy at the organization’s national level.

Arrival

After 35+ hours of travelling, including a lovely 2 hour flight delay on Charles de Gaulle’s tarmac, I finally arrived in the capital of Madagascar (Antananarivo aka “Tana”) around midnight local time on a Friday night. Much to my surprise, all my luggage made it with me!

Peter Delhove (ADRA Madagascar’s Country Director) and Sarah (one of the ADRA employees) were nice enough to meet me at the airport where Sarah whipped me through customs and helped me with my bags. From there, it was off to ADRA’s headquarters where they set me up in a guest room and I spent Saturday recovering a bit from jet lag and getting ready to leave early Sunday morning to the project site in Ambositra (pronounced AM-BOO-SH-TRA), approximately 260 km south of the capital.

Sunday, John (the SALOHI project director), Sarah, and I started our 6 hour journey south at 6:00AM. Although it’s only a distance of 260km, the road conditions and John’s penchant for stopping every 30 minutes (Hey, this is a good place to get some crepes! Here we will get cheese! Here we shall buy fruit!) made the trip about 6 hours, lol.


Once we arrived in Ambositra, I was shown my room at our project site

and was delighted to find out that I had fairly stable access to the internet and highly pressurized hot water! Most of our project site’s building is being renovated for all the staff and volunteers, so the maintenance still has to put together my bed, find the key that unlocks my dresser, and finish the bathroom…but all in all, it’s a very comfortable room.

I also got to meet Gil and Ben, a young couple who volunteers for ADRA (she’s from Mauritius, he’s from France). They live in the floor above me, as does Sarah. The four of us will be sharing food and a kitchen for the duration of my stay and I think it will work out good as we are all about the same age with similar tastes in food and cleaning and cooking habits…kind of…I have yet to tell them that I don’t cook well and every night I am assigned to cook dinner for us will be a spaghetti night, haha!