Tamana

Hebrews 12:1-2 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us cast off everything that hinders and the sin which so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race set before us and fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.

Someone at the English Center asked during our last practice session, “What did you think when you first came to Faradofay?”

I smiled as I remembered that it took a week and a half for me to leave the house by myself.

I remember the way I followed my host mom around like a lost puppy wide eyed through the market. My senses took in so much color and movement that I couldn’t make sense of all the activity. I was shocked by the mountains of greens and clothing heaps spilling into the streets and the smell of the fish and meat in the sun. My first landmark was the “rano maimbo”, a puddle on the way to the market that never dries and always stinks.

I tentatively said salama to everyone who looked my direction or yelled vazaha to get my attention. It took two months to learn there are 6 different ways people say hello here.

In my first month of teaching, it took 75 minutes for me to walk one way to teach because the roads I was familiar with were the most scenic route to get there.

It took three months to figure out this town has 2 different names, both pronounced two different ways.

When I first arrived, people would ask me, “Tamana ve anao?”. I would look bewildered at my host mom until she translated, “Are you comfortable?”. Of course I would answer yes, I had people to take care of me and a place to eat and sleep.

The question died out, but in the last few weeks, people have started asking again. Now it doesn’t come from strangers. It comes from family friends, churchmates, the pastor and religion teacher at my school, and fellow choir members. People whose names and faces I know well who have played a part in making me feel welcome here.

Not only have they showed me endless patience, they are also the people playing an integral part in turning my comfort into a reality. They have gone out of their way to teach me how to do things that are second nature to them, or dumb down their conversations with me so I can understand their Malagasy, then work hard to decipher what in the world I’m trying to express.

They call me by name. They smile when they see me both in expected places and on the street. When they ask what’s famous, I genuinely try to tell them something after the obligatory “tsy misy”, not much.

In the first month, the start of the race, I kept wishing away the miles. I couldn’t wait until January or February when I would be halfway there, find a nice steady pace, have some friends, and be good at Malagasy…

Somehow February has arrived, but I still stumble every day through the obstacles, new and old that come on the path. My Malagasy skills may have improved, but my goals are changing along with my abilities.

But it is different. My response is a genuine, “Ie, tamana zah”, or yes, complete with a smile of gratitude. Part of it is becoming more comfortable with what I don’t know and accepting that I am always making mistakes. It is easier to cast off the mistakes, give them to the Lord, and persevere. My newfound comfort is all thanks to the great community, the cloud of witnesses the Lord provided, that continues to lift me up and carry me.

They have exorcised me of demons dozens of times, washed my feet, and prayed for me while laying their hands on my head. They have brought me to their homes and fed me mounds of mofo akondro, delicious fried breaded bananas resembling a corn dog. When I go home from work, I never take the 45 minute walk alone. There’s always someone eager to practice English, no matter if it means being late for lunch or delaying their market run. Strangers become familiar with me and start saying, “Fanasina”, the name of my choir instead of foreigner as I walk down the street.

The choir president welcomed me on my first day by telling the choir, “Our goal in the next 9 months is to make sure Alexis stays with us past the end of her year”. I laughed then, overwhelmed by the sea of curious faces looking at me. Now, knowing their faces, personalities, voices, and many (but still not all) of their names, I wish I could go back and see that moment again. They have made such a genuine and effective effort to create a home for me, and I am eternally grateful.

I’ve struggled to write a blog post for the last month, starting several and leaving them unfinished. Although it makes me feel unproductive and lazy, maybe its another sign of being tamana in this place and my everyday life. In good company, its amazing how fast the kilometers fly by.