Way Out of Africa: My Adventure in Madagascar, the Land of Baobabs, Lemurs and Chameleons

Can one experience writer’s block, when there is so much information ready to be shared? Looks like it can happen and my reason with this article is that every time I sat down, my thoughts were racing too fast for me to be able to capture in words. Such was my experience in the Great Red Island of Madagascar. After giving up on any kind of organized layout, here I am sharing my thoughts and feelings randomly as they occur.

My very first shock was about the population of this island. When our guide mentioned they have 31 million Malagasy (not Madagascarian) people living on this island, it didn’t make sense to me at all. Thanks to the namesake movie, I was expecting more lemurs and fossa, and fewer humans. 

To satisfy my ego and cover up my lack of knowledge, I posed that question to several of my friends, and except for one (my manager who came very close to 30 million), the responses ranged from five thousand to a maximum of two million.

Although Madagascar is the fourth largest island in the world and is big enough to accommodate that kind of population, what surprised me was my ignorance about the population of the island. We also pay more attention to the mainland African nations maybe? 

Anyway, after getting over my own shame, I started wondering why only 4 million people live in the capital city of Antananarivo. Where are the remaining 27 million living? That became clear to me as we started traversing the island — they were everywhere, in the dry, desert areas, on the highlands, and in dense rainforests. In fact, there are no remote areas on the island, if the definition of the word remote means that there are not many people living there.

It appears that my biggest shock is also their biggest problem. With their population growing steadily (expected to cross 50 million in the next decade), and a good percentage of the current population being very young, it would be very difficult for this extremely poor nation to provide for its people’s basic needs. One of the village heads we got to meet, when asked, after a great deal of deliberation, answered that he has 40 kids from four wives. At that point, we were wondering if it was the exact number or if he gave us a rough estimate. We were also shocked to learn that his last (currently) wife at 20 is younger than some of his kids.

We flew to the capital city of Antananarivo and were very tired after our long flights from Minnesota. Looking back, I felt that spending a couple of days in Tana (I very gladly welcomed the short name they use for their capital city) before driving to the countryside would have helped with our transition and acclimation. However, after a quick city tour, we set off to another city called Antsirabe which ended up being our hub for the next 15 days.

Imodium to the Rescue

As some people from our trip started falling sick in the first few days, we realized that drinking bottled water was simply not enough; we had to be careful while brushing and showering and had to avoid juices, salads, and even fruits if they “had to be” washed. Bananas seemed a safer option. The hot water I requested was served brown as if it was premixed with my instant chai powder. The most shocking of all was this “fresh” (not just undercooked) chicken I ate once, so fresh that blood was still dripping from the bones. Well, thanks to my research, we had imodium, ready to stop our guts from melting away.

The origin of the Malagasy people is quite interesting. People from Southeast Asia, especially Indonesia, have been said to have traveled by water to first settle on the island. After intermixing later with mainland Africans, Indians, and even some Arabs, they now look very different than any other race. Features and complexion also vary with each region of the island. 

While most of them are friendly, courteous, and curious about tourists, there is some hostility towards the French. This island nation got independence from the French only in 1960 and even though French is still one of the official languages, they show their defiance by refusing to learn or speak French. 

In fact, they are so proud, when we were visiting, we noticed that the Independence “day” celebrations lasted for an entire week with proud displays of flags everywhere and late-night parties. For some of us judging their unusual show of patriotism for a country that does not seem very prosperous, it made sense as we learned that the French plundered the land and treated Malagasy people like slaves before they eventually left. First colonization and then colonialism, and as an Indian, I am painfully familiar with the terms.

We were so looking forward to experiencing our first big attractions and activities in Morondava, but the roughly 310-mile drive from Antsirabe took 14 hours in our vehicle. We spent five out of our 15-day vacation just driving, getting from point A to point B, with a few designated stops for meals and nature calls, quite literally sometimes as we had to use “bush bathrooms.”

Even though restaurants were few and far between, they were good enough once we figured out what to, but mostly what not to, eat and drink. With rest stops, let’s just say, we “squeezed one out”  whenever we had some decent restrooms to use. We also found some gold diggers (yes literally) on the way and I wanted to join them to try my fortune but was not permitted to.

Infrastructure is practically non-existent. Sometimes you don’t have paved roads, but most other times you fail to experience the benefits of paved roads. With that many potholes, you start wondering if you are better off off-roading. I would describe driving on the island as generally being dragged and bounced (my son hit the roof of the vehicle multiple times), somehow getting squeezed at times, and strangely being pulled and pushed at the same time. I am still thankful for the experience, which I needed to tell myself over and over to carry on.

The promised land of Morondava did not fail to deliver. Even though we were able to hear and see glimpses of lemurs at our facility that night, our first close encounter with a ring-tailed lemur happened at breakfast the next morning with him sharing his coffee with us, but he made it very easy for us to see why lemurs are intelligent primates. 

I enjoyed the rest of the morning session at the beach, with some primates of my own kind, who were selling coconuts, sea shells, and fish and other critters from the sea. I even allowed them to apply some random “wood” cream to my face when they claimed it would make me beautiful. 

Beautiful or not, I had another opportunity for a rendezvous, this time planned and guided, with more lemurs. They were obliged to sit on our shoulders, hang from our elbows, and jump from one homosapien to another when lured with bananas. This facility also had some tortoises, ranging from ten-year-olds to hundred-year-old youth (tortoise age you see) which we were allowed to hold, carry, cuddle, and admire.

Electricity on the island is rare and limited, it comes in different forms and quantities. Some of these facilities in remote locations (where thousands of people still live) depend on either generators (if you are lucky) or solar panels to generate power. Some allow a few hours a day to charge your phones, some have it all day but you cannot charge anything other than a cell phone, but most do not have enough to power refrigerators. 

We now understood why our meals were getting served late — they were having to run to the market to get fresh produce and meats after taking our orders, as there is no option for them to keep them fresh without refrigerators. I was more than okay with eating fresh food for that reason but was very unhappy about my unkempt look as I couldn’t straighten my hair. My suggestion to Apple — to boost sales please add a hair straightening feature to your future models. 

The ‘Roots’ of Mysterious Trees

After spending the first two or three days with no significant activities, this day turned out to be very productive. That evening, we ended up making a trip to the Avenue of the Baobabs, which remained my favorite part of the trip. I first read about these mysterious trees in Alex Haley’s “Roots,” and grew curious to see them ever since. 

Baobabs are kind of weird looking; with their extra large and extra tall trunks, and gnarly branches. They looked to me like giant trolls with short stubby hands, but they are majestic and photogenic. With every part of the tree useful, the tree is referred to as “The Tree of Life” and to me, they looked more like old souls with characters than mere trees. 

To hug one, I needed nine other people, making it a group hug. We also got to taste some baobab juice, not sure if it was from the fruits or flowers, but it tasted good.

The weather was a little too hot for the Minnesotan in me and a little too cold for the Indian in me, but mostly dry. Most of the island was covered in red soil, giving it this Martian appearance. Cultivation here is key to ensure you get to the more fertile inner layers, and I was quite impressed that Malagasy were not able to just do that but also mastered terrace farming in hilly parts of the country, probably a skill they brought from their motherland, Indonesia. Paddy being the main crop, agriculture is the main source of income for many but unfortunately from cultivation and irrigation to drying and processing, it is all labor intensive with no machinery involved, other than an occasional zebu.

Zebus are bovines; they look like cows but with humps on their shoulders. With not many cows or other cattle on the island, zebus rule in Madagascar. They are used for milk, meat, and as draft animals and play a great role in their economy They are also used as a measure of wealth and in barter trade, and sometimes as dowry in rural areas. 

I was very proud when our guide said they were brought to the island from India, and I remember seeing some growing up, however the Malagasy kind looked shorter and smaller. “Zebu crossing” is a common sight when you are driving around, as the island is littered with domestic as well as wild zebus. On his first attempt, my son choked on the tough meat but kept at it until he started liking it.

Back to Antsirabe from Morondava, and then to Fianarantsoa almost took two full days of driving. We enjoyed the different terrains, beautiful landscapes, and rivers of hot chocolate, the silt giving them that color. The red brick and/or mud houses in the central highlands, just like chameleons, blend in completely with the red soil they are built on. You will see bricks being made alongside the highway in most villages. You will see many incomplete and/or abandoned houses probably damaged in the cyclones they often experience. They made lunch interesting with a dance performance.

Fianarantsoa looked a lot more polished, cultured, and clean compared to other cities in Madagascar. We enjoyed walking the paved streets of the old town and even purchased some artwork from a local artist but had to cut it short as we had to set off to Ranohira nearly 180 miles away, with a stop at Anja Park for lunch and more lemur sightings. 

The trails at Anja Park were beautiful and we got to see many King Julians (ring-tailed lemurs). They are curious and funny with their yoga poses, and since they are used to seeing visitors, they allow us to get close and even take selfies with them. Bonus however was our first interactions with some colorful chameleons which Madagascar is known for.

It was almost getting dark when we got to Ranohira and before checking into our hotel, we made a quick stop at the “Window of Isalo,” a boulder with a square window through which you can see the sunset over the highlands. Our accommodation for the next two nights at Ranohira was actually tents but found them to be cleaner and more luxurious than most other places. Each tent had two bathrooms, one indoor and one outdoor, but the millions of termites busy marching in and out of our bathroom sink were interesting and I went to bed wondering if they would attack me in my sleep.

Interestingly they did not offer everything that the vendors were selling for us to eat. The vegetables we were offered were just carrots, green beans, and zucchini, although we saw that cassava roots and leaves are a staple to the locals. Neel, my adventurous son, tried Ravitoto, a dish made with crushed cassava leaves with zebu meat, but I stuck to my vegetable soups and mine sao, a Malagasy version of Asian noodles.  

We had many in the group eating just French fries at this point and aged cheese on pizzas was not something the kids enjoyed. Breads, especially baguettes are seen everywhere, probably something that the French have left behind.

Having survived the termites, I was ready for our excursion to Isalo National Park the next morning. It was probably the hardest of the treks in the trip but the rock formations, caves, and natural pools at the park kept us motivated and we even took an optional longer trail to enjoy some great views. I did not complain about how cold the water was in those pools but mostly because I didn’t bother to get in, but I took some great pictures of our bathers. 

Four Wives and 20 Children

Our post-lunch visit to Bara village was interesting. This was where we had the good fortune of meeting the village head with four wives and approximately 20 children. This man has over 200 zebus and is considered wealthy but most of the children in the village (probably mostly his own) look unhealthy and undernourished. They were very happy however with the books, pens, and candy we distributed.

 I tried hard not to judge but it’s the superstition that bothered me. If someone in the village is sick, they believe they are possessed and to force the devil out, the entire village has to comply with whatever the sick person demands. Interestingly enough, when we visited, a sick person asked the entire village to dance to her tunes, again quite literally that was the ask, and they did just that and were dancing nonstop to a boombox. 

“Fady” is the Malagasy word for taboo and it has cultural significance in Madagascar. Many fady exist and are strictly enforced, the violation of which is considered disrespectful and more.  Although they say tourists are exempt from fady, one still wants to comply not knowing the consequences, however superstitious some may seem. I was offered moonshine at one of the villages and quietly gulped it down for fear of displeasing my hosts. 

Pointing at tombs is a taboo everywhere on the island but eating pork keeps changing depending on where you are. The tradition of “famadihana,” exhuming dead bodies to rewrap them, was the most shocking one to me. They are almost proud of their fady and traditions and bring them up in conversations often.

We set off early to the southern beach town called Ifaty and it was dusky by the time we reached. We piled onto zebu carts without wasting time to visit the Reniala reserve, a protected botanical garden/forest with many grotesque baobabs and spiny trees that look like cacti. Guides were somehow able to produce spiders, scorpions, tortoises, and several other critters for us to see. A scuffle ensued as I donated money to one and only one of the many kids there. 

I was wondering why Madagascar is still poor considering the gold and sapphires they mine, rice, vanilla, and other agricultural products they produce, and fish they catch. For one, the country’s isolated location in the South is not working out in their favor for trade opportunities. Government corruption is extreme, I was told. Deforestation causing more cyclones and other natural disasters, growing population, disease, superstition, and lack of education are apparent reasons for the country being underdeveloped. One feels powerless trying to help; despite donating all the cash we had left, we felt no satisfaction, as we couldn’t even make a dent. 

What they lack in development, they have it in biodiversity. Some plants and animals remain endemic to the island because of its isolation from the rest of the world. The island’s stately-looking baobabs, 113 species of lemurs, formidable fossa, colorful chameleons, geckos that look like dry leaves, and numerous species of frogs make up for the luxury and comfort you are looking for as a tourist. 

Our beach resort for the next two days was comfortable and we were very thankful for the electricity that was available throughout the day, although we could only charge one item at a time. For my 17- 17-year-old son’s safety, I had to murder several spiders in our rooms, but I drew the line at lizards which seemed to pop up everywhere on dining chairs and in showers.

By the way, we were very surprised, and pleasantly so, by the cell phone coverage on the island. Our international plan seemed to work even in the remotest of areas of the island, better than many advanced countries we visited. 

For normally non-beach people, we loved having a leisurely beach day, which I spent spending my money to help the local economy. With kids away snorkeling, I got braids (which took less than ten minutes for them to make and a good half an hour for me to remove), a massage, cocktails and coconuts, and bought more scarfs and trinkets I didn’t need. I even got to play volleyball with some Norwegian kids, with whom the Minnesotan in me felt a strong connection. What a busy lazy day!!

I could not figure out the Malagasy people. I didn’t understand if they were tribal, or more advanced but simply lacking in resources. Some superstitions such as not hurting flies even though they spread disease looked to me as regressive but the clothes they wear are mostly Western except for this one traditional sarong-like robe you see occasionally. With some, especially the ones who work at hotels and resorts, I was able to connect, but several others seemed distant and uncommunicable.

I was very reluctant to get into our car the next morning. Another 14-hour drive to get to Ambalavao with nothing else to do in between was brutal. The next morning, however, we got some relief in the form of retail therapy. We had purchases to make after visiting the silk and paper-making workshops. Both are completely handmade and the texture of the paper is unique and they use real flowers to make cards and wall decorations. 

We continued on our drive to Ranomafana, the greenest and prettiest part of the island and we got to stay here the next two days. The waterfalls on the way provided some cause for excitement and an opportunity for pictures. The optional arboretum trip was a great idea — got to learn about many indigenous animals, plants, and trees including the peacock-like travelers’ palms. I swear this chameleon’s tongue was much longer than its body length and for a moment I regretted volunteering to feed him a grasshopper. 

That night when we ventured into the rainforest to look at some nocturnals. We got to see a mouse lemur, the cutest of lemurs with its expressive eyes; very hard to believe they were primates. 

The Ranomafana rainforest excursion the next morning was the most challenging part of the entire trip and I even slipped and landed on my butt in the slimy mud. We got to see a few more lemur species but golden bamboo lemurs are the cutest and naughtiest. 

Harmless Cyanide!

Interestingly, the cyanide from the bamboo that these cuties feed on, doesn’t kill them. Neel and I “escaped” getting lucky very narrowly — being peed upon by a lemur means good fortune. A gecko that looks like a dry leaf was my net new experience here. Even though I read about these miraculous creatures before, it was hard for us to believe our guides until we looked at the pictures we took up close.

There is nothing ordinary about vanilla, contrary to how it is used as an adjective to describe something simple and plain. Processing vanilla for consumption is a long and tedious process and the delectable aroma is the reason why it is the most sought-after flavor enhancer. Madagascar is the world’s leading exporter in vanilla and we got plenty to take home. Another popular export good from Madagascar is sapphires and I was very unhappy that we didn’t stop by to check them out.

I am glad I took that optional village tour post-lunch. In this village, people looked happier and healthier. Each family gets their own plot of land and their own grain storage hut propped up on stilts to protect from mice. The only cows we saw on the island reminded me of my grandparents’ village in India which I used to visit as a child. The village head thanked me profusely for my small donation of 100k ariary (Malagasy currency) equivalent to $25, and we celebrated with moonshine. 

Madagascar is certainly not for the faint of hearts. We felt vulnerable as there were many threats to our system(s). Diarrhea was a constant worry and with the omnipresent red soil getting into our eyes, noses, and mouths, it was possible to develop some respiratory illnesses. Mosquito bites kept reminding us of malarial possibilities and even the kids started complaining about their backs aching from getting bounced in the vehicle all day long. One lady from our group even got her money and passport stolen. 

Given the threats, it is a miracle that we came back safe but I do not and cannot regret going to Madagascar one bit. I would not trade the memories and experiences we had for anything. Through it all, we gained a new perspective — to appreciate diversity, to be grateful for what we have, to enjoy this beautiful planet, and to celebrate life in general. We walked away humming in our thick Indian accents — I like to move it, move it …

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Padma Nadella is an IT professional who lives in Eagan, Minnesota with her husband and 17-year-old son. She manages a Facebook group for Minnesotans to collaborate on events and activities related to health and fitness. The group now has over two thousand members. Jack of all trades, she enjoys playing volleyball, traveling the world, and entertaining mostly but dabbles in everything else.