Domestic Life

Haley’s presence in my house over her ‘grande vacance’ has provided a welcome respite from the solitude that typically awaits me in my humble abode. Haley’s normal Peace Corps work, force-feeding English to pot-smoking Malagasy middle schoolers, does not provide her with much free time so she has been enjoying her time off in Ranomafana writing letters, reading books, and helping me with the occasional project. Most significantly, she has been assisting me in bringing out my inner homemaker.
Haley’s arrival coincided with a visit at the neighbor’s by Rodrigue’s mother-in-law, making room at the dinner table scarce and compelling Haley and I to scrounge for our own supper. Normally, this would have propelled me into a serious food crisis, returning to my staples of pasta & hot sauce or fried-egg-on-bread-slice. Thankfully, Haley came to the rescue. Having studied for months at her site under the careful tutelage of another volunteer who modeled herself as the Martha Stewart of Madagascar, she had quite the repertoire or recipes up her sleeve. My personal favorite being Szechwan green beans served over rice. After three weeks of cooking at home, the mother-in-law packed up and left so we invited Rodrigue and the family over for a dinner party.
Serving complex foreign foods to Malagasy is a risky business for Peace Corps volunteers. Horror stories abound of unsuccessful attempts to accommodate the extremely picky Malagasy palate. One volunteer who laboriously prepared pasta and marinara sauce had a child literally spit it out at her feet as the mother excused herself to cook some rice. I personally witnessed two Malagasy scoop out the insides of a single rice-stuffed tomato and not finding the rice to their satisfaction left most of the contents on their plate. Determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past, Haley and I prepared the rice separately from our Szechwan green bean & carrot topping and took precautions not to make the food to spicy.
When the big day came and everyone had gathered around the table in my living room Haley lifted the lids from the food and Rodrigue’s wife informed us flatly that she was not eating that. She then explained that she only eats traditional Malagasy foods and asked for some cold water to pour over her plain rice. The other more adventurous members of the family seemed to enjoy the food and everyone was pleased when I asked them if they would like to watch an American film on my computer once the meal was concluded.
Sharbaraz the cat is slowly coming of age and has been doing excellent work being lazy around the house. When my accommodations are no longer to her liking, she ditches me for the neighbor’s house and passes the afternoon shooting me contemptuous glances from their bedroom window. Yet, she makes a quick return whenever Haley or I return with food of any sort, bananas in particular. Given the opportunity, my cat would sell her soul for a banana. So much as touch one of these delectable yellow fruits and the cat will tear around the room, climbing on furniture, and creating a general ruckus. She will even go so far as to climb onto one’s shoulder and attempt to take a bite out it as I try to put it my mouth. I wouldn’t be very inclined to fuel her addiction, but this week she finally started pulling her weight around the house by catching her first mouse. Haley and I were both thrilled with this development and toasted her success by treating ourselves to pasta whilst Sharbaraz consumed the entirety of her prize under the table.
Though one mouse has firmly bitten the dust, there is another, much larger rodent still lurking in my house. This very large rat emerges from the wall each night, crawls up next to Haley’s bed in the living room and leaves fecal evidence of its presence for us to find each new morning. The cat is much more interested in trying to force her way into my bed in the middle of the night to waste time prowling in the dark for this serious offender. Haley has gone so far as to put up an entire bunch of bananas as a reward for its capture dead or alive, but Sharbaraz remains uninterested.
The cat has also proved worthless in defending the house against invading chickens. Rodrigue’s flock of poultry has multiplied to nearly 18 birds and they have discovered a way to wriggle under my gate and invade my deteriorating garden. There is one particular brown hen that cannot comprehend that she is not welcome around my house. One sunny afternoon when Haley and I were focused on an intense hand of Gin Rummy, the chicken in question came fluttering and squawking through the window landing in the center of our neatly arranged runs and sets of three. Having evicted her back through the window she snuck in through the back door and commenced in a serious attack on Haley’s mosquito net. On a third attempt she managed to trap herself in the living room for a solid minute as Haley tried vainly to forcibly direct her out with a broom. We later discovered this particular bird has a thing for laying her eggs on beds and being that the neighbor’s house was closed up at the time; the confused hen was attempting to deposit her goods on one of our foam mattresses. Next time this happens we decided to let her in and pocket the egg.