Sunday January 19th, 2014: Getting to Ranomafana

Rice fields forever in the highlands

Hey out there! It has been a while since I’ve updated the blog about my travels. I finally have a break from work, and I can focus on reliving this adventure. I am going to post a blog for everyday until I am caught up. The title of the blog will be for that day. This is the first. Enjoy.
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I barely slept the night before leaving for Ranomafana, I was so excited about my first day in the field...finally. The anticipation was killing me, and we were prepared. I “woke up” at 5:00am and scarfed down a quick meal before Rocky, Emile, and Paul showed up at the Biodiversity Center for our 7:00am departure time. Paul is a representative from CAFF/CORE, a committee responsible for overseeing the research being done in the national parks. They connect researchers to amazing locations and to the Malagasy people. It was quite a team! A mushroom team! We piled into the Toyota Land Cruiser with all of our stuff, and headed out of Tana for our seven hour drive to the South East.

My favorite roadside sign: (!)

Some examples of the houses of the highlands

The minute we pushed past traffic of the busy city, and started to descend into the highlands of Madagascar, the land opened into lush bright green hills of rice. The green is so intense, it is almost blinding (I tried to capture that green as best as I could in the pictures, but it’s tough). Tiny towns were scattered over the highlands made of a few modest homes and some épiceries (little hole-in-the-wall shops).

Zebu time

Here are some things I have learned about Malagasy culture, and from chatting with Rocky on our long trips together. Christianity is the most popular religion in Mada, and so the most splendid building in any town is the church. Sometimes they are made with brick, sometimes stones, but they always stand above the village as the most beautiful building around. Life here is simple: survive. Work to eat and pray your home does not blow away in a cyclone. One of the most valuable commodities here are the zebu, local cattle with huge humps on their backs, they are essential to life here. Malagasy zebu provide milk, meat, labor, and transport. Life is built around these incredible animals, and death too. One aspect of funeral processions include zebu. If the head of a household dies, his zebu are killed and their bones, particularly their skulls, decorate the tomb. How did you like that cultural blurb?! Now, back to the journey...

Danny selects his favorite chanterelles

The roads are the marketplaces everywhere, people stand on the side holding up their product and shouting to the cars. Several times we engaged in these mobile markets, and every time was awesome. Our first buy of the day: chanterelles! A young woman and some boys were selling them from a local village. Rocky helped us explain that we study mushrooms and that we want to learn more about them. They were selling two different kinds of chanterelles picked from some Tapia forest (Uapaca bojeri) nearby forests, and we selected the best from the bunch. The next time we pulled over we bought some freshly steamed corn on the cob. Street corn anywhere is delicious in my experience. Getting the corn was quite an ordeal. A dozen people shoved their baskets of corn in the windows of the cars, nudging our arms and heads, trying to get our attention to buy from them. Rocky handled it like a pro, while Emile slid open the back window and conducted a short transaction on his own. It was worth the extended moments of chaos. The corn was so sweet and warm, the perfect road snack.

Busy city of Antsirabe

The drive was long, but a wonderful opportunity to see a lot of the country. The landscape, the villages, the simple, but beautiful lifestyle of the Malagasy people. We soon drove through the town on Antsirabe. The hustle of the city is immediate. Pous-pous (rickshaws) were weaving in and out of traffic, bikes, people, zebu, dogs, everything in the road, the road is the center of the town. We stopped briefly at Emile’s family’s house. It is polite and customary when traveling that you visit your relatives if you pass them in your travels. It was just a brief (surprisingly) stop, but essential. Family is priority here, people respect their elders, and value family traditions and events. Any person would drop everything to go to a funeral or a wedding, even if it is on the other side of the country.

Lunch...yum!

Soon after leaving Antsirabe, the tummies in the Toyota started rumbling and Danny started day dreaming of zebu tongue out-loud. We stopped at a little hotely outside the city and sat down for the lunch course. There are usually only a few options for that day, the menu is short: zebu tongue, pork leg, chicken stew, everything served with rice, or as they say here “what would you like to accompany your rice?”. We got some pork with cassava leaves, a cucumber salad, and the usual rice and chicken broth to soak the rice. Yum! We were so hungry, but it is amazing how filling rice is, one minute you’re the hungriest you’ve ever been and the next you are so stuffed you can’t even look at rice. It’s delicious and very satisfying.

We piled back into the car for the longer stretch of the drive. Our third roadside stop was actually a bathroom break, but a fun group of locals walked up to the car from just collecting some mushrooms, two kinds of russulas. We were pleasantly surprised and took pictures and laughed and bought them. Contributing to mushroom enthusiasm is one major benefit of being here, so any time we have the opportunity to do it we do it! Fungus among all of us! We had a blast chatting with the local people, thank you Rocky for being the front runner of every conversation! What would we do without you?

Locals selling russula on the side of the road

Raining on our way into Ranomafana

It was getting late, and we still had a ways to go, so this time we got in the car for the final push. Rocky is an amazing driver. He can navigate these crazy roads so well, he jokes, DJs, and keeps tabs on everyone’s needs all while driving beautifully. As we descended into the humid forest of Ranomafana it started to rain...an amanita!...one more stop...the rice patties we had grown so used to turned into thick forests. The sun was setting, and the valley of Ranomafana was breathtaking. It was so open and dark green, not just from lack of light through the rain clouds, but because forest green is darker, deeper, then the bright green of the rice fields. The road started to get worse and worse, we couldn’t use the short cut because the roads get so bad in the rainy season. The long way was still a tricky road to maneuver with huge, deep, potholes that were getting wider with every rain, but Rocky, aka Mr. Good (his last name means ‘good’ in Malagasy), was not phased. Soon enough we were in the town of Ranomafana. We were exhausted from the long trip, and ready for a good night’s sleep. We found a hotel and negotiated a good price, before unloading the equipment, taking a shower, and crawling into bed. I needed a long night’s sleep, and I got one.

Descending into the Ranomafana valley at dusk

Potholes the size of bath tubs, deep too!

Once we settled into our bungalows we headed into the village nearby to meet a legend of Ranomafana botany. The locals call him Dada Paul (Father Paul, a term used out of respect for his age and wisdom). We were quietly ushered into his modest home and Rocky introduced him to our mushroom team. It was a moment difficult to describe because the sheer importance of this man can only be felt in his presence. He is a quiet, but obviously wise and all-knowing. He is very well respected, and he will become an essential part of our trip, but for tonight we say hello, and tell him of our plans, and humbly ask for his assistance as a guide in the park, and a guide to the trees. We are honored to have his company and his knowledge. Thank you Dada Paul.

Travel days are always long and hard, but when you finally reach your destination, it is so exciting. We had our first day in the field waiting for us, so it’s malaria dreams under the mosquito net in our little bungalow on the side of a wide rainforest river for me. Goodnight.