zafimaniry Among the villages we visited, Sakaivo Avaratra deserves a special place, a cluster of about fifty wooden houses at the foot of the peak of Laibory, at a height of 1450 m. The village is presided over by a board of elders, a member of which, Rakoto Emanuel, offered us hospitality during our stay. Rakoto 73 years old and is a special guest, one of those that to imagine the future has already tried: while not speaking a word of French, he built a house to welcome visitors next to her, insisted that the guides to teach his grandson how to cook European-Desy, so when there are visits, he can make up a bit 'of money, built a rudimentary toilet and a shower room: small basic comfort after a day's journey are appreciated. The atmosphere created is so simple and familiar that the vazaha can forget for a moment his pale skin, and relax to enjoy the warmth of traditional hospitality. To make the rest of us think the grin of Rakoto and two or three droplets of toaka, rum time: the spell is done.
Rakoto's house, like almost all the houses in Sakaivo, is a traditional house zafimaniry. The tranomena, so it is called, follows a precise geographical position that brings with certain features common to other traditional houses of the highlands, the origins and beliefs of a people whose ancestors came from Malaysia on board rafts. All the houses in the village are lined up along the north-south axis, with the opening facing to the west to protect it from winds, rain laden winds blowing from the east. The southeast corner, which in this cosmology is metaphorical and miniaturized the Indian Ocean, is where you normally keep water, ie the bulk bin with the proviso that each day is filled morning at the source. The northeast corner is rather well-wishing, in memory of ancestors from Asia (located just north-east of Madagascar), and "Masoandro", which translated literally becomes the "eye of day": so that the Malagasy call the sun. In this corner, before beginning the toasts and speeches of welcome for newcomers, turns a quick thanks to the ancestors, offering them a few drops of rum. The house of
Rakoto respects this provision. In the south there is the hearth, consisting of three stones, which represent father, mother and children that hold up the pot with the food that feeds them. The ventilation hood, however, is not there, so the environment is constantly invaded by the smoke: the only way to stop tears to your eyes is perched on low stools, remaining below the thick, toxic cloud. The soot that blackens everything it does offer the advantage that permeates the walls and seals the interior of the house, making it more resistant to weathering. With this little trick a tranomena, despite being made entirely of wood, can withstand up to 300 years! In the room there is no other furniture that Nattes, raffia mats on which the zafimaniry, and the Malagasy countryside in general, eat, talk, and often sleep too. A large kit and some Nattes stool is in fact the first gift for a girl to be married.
our part, I must admit that we had some luck, because we ended up at the home of Rakoto during a big family gathering at the second sowing of paddy. According to a tradition that is unfortunately becoming increasingly rare in Madagascar for farm work is most appealing to the solidarity of the entire clan, which meets to help out without expecting much in return that share of the meal, heartfelt thanks and toast rite. These meetings, in addition to the obvious practical purpose, are extremely important to cement kinship ties, as are moments of encounter and understanding between all branches of the family very extensive, so time to discuss unions, births and deaths.
When we arrived at the home of Rakoto, in the late morning of Friday, October 2, the entire clan was then in full force, and between men, women and children, we were about fifty. In the south of the house reserved for women, the bulk boiling pot full of corn intended to feed the workers, who at that time were working in paddy field. Rakoto welcomed us instead in the north, the normally reserved for men. After a European style with a refreshing drink beer THB, afternoon has elapsed between pleasant conversation and a visit to the rice fields, to look at the work. At dinner time, the house was crowded with people. It has not had time to swallow the last spoonful of rice were already beginning toasts and speeches: a shot at the head of household - Rakoto - and a guest! A primer to the chieftain - Rakoto - and also a vazaha! A toast to the village elder - always Rakoto! - And one to his cousin! And so it goes fine until the drunk killed the conversation and started the songs and countermelodies, grooved explained that went on for a long night. In all this, in turn, and all drank from the same glass. Just as well - thought my demon hygienist - that's 80 ° to kill germs thinks alcohol!
The presence of myself and Vince, whose eloquence Madagascar melted as they increased the level of alcohol, was after all a small event. But in the end, the real star of the evening was mutual aid, the family solidarity so delicately portrayed in a sculpture of the reasons most dear to Zafimaniry. That is the motto: Unity is strength.
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