Mormon-Mennonite Sleepover

I was barely over jet lag from Madagascar when another exotic road trip presented itself. My friend had met a Mennonite farmer through our local farmer's market, and through our interfaith assignments at church we arranged to have them speak at our church about their basic beliefs. It was a great evening, and at the time we'd expressed interest in coming to visit their church. Several months later, my friend received an invitation to visit their congregation when a few of their members were getting baptized. What's more, a family in their congregation offered to host a few of us for a night. Not knowing what to expect, we packed for a range of scenarios and headed north, stopping along the way in Maryland for dinner at a local establishment.

Great sign, great food, great company=great start to a road trip

We arrived later than planned but were greeted warmly by our hosts, who served us homemade popcorn. Their son and daughter, Mark and Rose, were part of the group that visited our church, but it was the first time meeting the parents. I had prepared for them to live like the Amish, but other than a lack of TV, radio, and dishwasher, it was a lot like visiting my great aunt's house. They had electricity and running water, and while the furnishings were a tad dated they were in great condition. Aside from the clothing, the wedding and mission announcements on their wall could've been LDS. In fact, their daughter had served a mission as a nurse in South America, and encountered LDS missionaries on several occasions. We were so excited and curious to talk to them, but we cut it short due to the late hour.

proof they had running water AND electricity

The next morning, I got up earlier than normal for a Sunday but we were still the last ones to get up. We got ready for church and walked with Rose to their chapel, since it was just next door to their house. She told me they typically prefer to sit segregated by gender, but with so many visitors that day who were unaware of this they didn't enforce it. A few more friends from DC drove up that morning to join us.

the sign in front of their church

Like most Christian worship services, they began with singing hymns. But rather than a pre-set one, a member of their congregation would say a number and they'd all start singing a cappella in beautiful harmony. This would continue for several hymns, until they felt the Holy Spirit. They don't have paid clergy, but the member they'd chosen as their leader (I think they referred to the position as deacon) led the service and gave announcements of their weekly activities. The format was a little different this day because of the baptisms, but sacrament or communion was not a part of their weekly service. Another of their leaders did a scripture reading and gave a talk on it, before the deacon gave a talk on baptism that almost entirely agreed doctrinally with my faith. In their faith, they believe that someone needs to be old enough to decide for themselves to be baptized, and this typically happens around age 12 or 13. The members getting baptized sat on the front pew and were each invited to share their favorite scripture before the ordinance began. One by one, they came to the front of the chapel where the deacon read a set of questions and promises they had to answer. The baptism itself happened by them kneeling facing the deacon, and after he asked the questions he'd cup his hands in a basin of water held by another member of the congregation and pour it over their head. Afterward, we were invited to stay for a potluck. It was quite a spread, and felt so familiar to our church's activities. The church also houses a school, and Mark showed us the classroom where he teaches and some of their materials.

post-church potluck

Can you spot the Mormons?

we fit right in

Before leaving to drive back, we all returned to the house and had a chance to see their garden and chat with them a bit more in the living room. It was so nice to be in a space where everyone felt comfortable to ask questions and clear up misconceptions. They had already told us about their conversion to the Mennonite faith, when they decided they disagreed with the Amish belief that you can't know whether you're saved (they personally believed the Holy Spirit can confirm that). But it was nice to better understand what shunning meant and how it was actually practiced by their relatives--it wasn't as harsh as I'd thought. And many years before, the dad had helped build the house of and LDS bishop so he was familiar with many of our beliefs, but it was still interesting to learn about their perceptions. Unfortunately several members of our group had commitments back in DC so we couldn't stay nearly as long as we wanted to, but we couldn't leave without having a photo shoot with our new friends.

our host family: Mark, Jacob, Lavina, and Rose

group shot

It's funny how quickly I can feel a connection with people that are strong in their own faith, even when it's different than my own. I have a lot of respect for our new Mennonite friends and how they allow their faith to touch every aspect of their life. I'm not sure I could live that way for too long, but it was nice to visit and I hope we can find an excuse to return.

Farewell, Madagascar

Despite having an early afternoon flight, as usual I tried to cram as much in on my final day as possible. After dropping by the office to say a last goodbye to my colleagues, I visited the nearby souvenir shops and grocery store to pick up enough spices and chocolate for family and friends. Once I was convinced I had done my part for the Malagasy economy, we returned to the hotel by way of 2 stops. The head of the Madagascar office, upon learning I was LDS, insisted the driver take me by the chapel near their office. I felt bad for inconveniencing them, but I have to admit it was pretty cool to see and it turned out to also be the mission home so elders were there.

LDS chapel and mission home

in front of the mission home

The final sightseeing stop was the Queen’s palace, atop one of the highest hills in the city. Queen Ranavalona the Terrible built it, and in her day Christian missionaries were martyred by being thrown off the nearby cliff, among other things. Thankfully we were safe, and only safely enjoyed the views from the top.

view from the hill with the Queen's palace--the arrow's pointing at the main LDS chapel

LDS chapel in Tana

Then it was back to the hotel for my bags, and off to the airport for the 17 hours of flights home--Tana to Johannesburg to JFK to DCA. The 9/11 anniversary meant an additional security check in Johannesburg because the plane was bound for the US, but otherwise a fairly uneventful series of flights home with some good movies.

Return to Tana

Today we drove back to Tana, and this time I was prepared for the duration. We stopped for lunch at the Hotel Artist in Ambositra, and were treated to a traditional dance performance while we dined. I liked to think of it as a Malagasy PCC, of sorts. With so much of an (understandable) focus on nature, it was nice to see attempts to preserve their cultural heritage, too.

Here's a video I shot of one of their dances:

classic Malagasy architecture at Hotel Artisan in Ambositra

For a while I was lucky enough to have shotgun, and attempted to capture what this was like in photos.

typical produce stand

I got so excited when I saw this sign! (the LDS church in Malagasy)

Along the way, I remembered a silent film a friend had shown me several months before. It was a streetcar’s perspective as it went through a Spanish town in the 1920’s and was such a fascinating glimpse of their everyday because it was so different from my own. Here’s my little tribute to it, in the hopes you’ll appreciate this drive a bit more.
(coming soon, video!)
Back at Le Louvre in Tana, I treated myself to one last spa night before dinner. As I was preparing to leave the hotel, who should I see but a large group of LDS missionaries! It was fun talking to them and finding out where they were from, and they confirmed the chapels in I’d seen in Tana. Determined to enjoy the vanilla chicken one last time, I returned to Sakamanga and enjoyed every bite before asking my waiter for the recipe. After my unexpected luck in New Zealand I thought it was worth a try, and was again rewarded. It was a little vague due to translation issues, but I look forward to attempting it back in the US.

Au revoir, vanilla chicken

Aye-Aye, captain

Today we took a day trip due east and almost all the way to the coast to visit another conservation project.

meat seller in Kianjavato (T.Larsen)

At Kianjavato an extensive reforestation project is attempting to employ community members while linking patches of forest that are home to the greater bamboo and black- and white-ruffed lemurs…and a rare nocturnal critter called the aye-aye. It has long-sparse hair, a pointed face, and exceptionally long middle fingers used to tap on logs looking for bugs before poking and digging them out with said-fingers. The internet photos looked a little creepy, and too strange to be real. Our hike started right off the main road through the village, and it felt so different to walk along flatter, more open, and shorter trails to see the daytime lemurs, and we were rewarded with great views of them.

this forest was so much more open than Ranomafana

Black-and-white ruffed lemur on a jackfruit (T.Larsen)

our trackers, and some local kids

After coming back for lunch, the heat of the day hit me and I attempted to find a place to take a nap, winding up on the wooden floor of an upstairs area where volunteers can pitch tents. Mixed results, but worth a shot.

In the late afternoon we returned to our starting point and began hiking to the aye-aye nest. Unlike the earlier hike, this one became increasingly steep and my enthusiasm waned as I struggled to cling to vines and trunks to prevent me sliding down the mountain. After climbing what felt like most of the way up the mountain, our guides stopped us at a steep, narrow ledge. There was barely room to squeeze in our group as we leaned against the rock and tried not to think about the roots/vines that were the only things holding us up.

our perch for Aye-Aye viewing (R.Neugarten)

As we sat in the dark I questioned our sanity, and wondered if this was just a Malagasy snipe hunt, but my attitude reversed when we started to see the nightlife. At first it was just mouse lemurs, and all those years of kitty cat safaris on the front lawn with my mom paid off as I became an expert at spotting their glowing eyes by the light of our head lamps. And then we saw it: the mother aye-aye leaving the nest in search of food. My lack of research didn’t prepare me for the creepy ball of dark fur climbing across the branches, and it almost felt like a phantom in the darkness that disappeared too quickly and quietly. After all the hiking to get there it felt over too soon, and we decided to stay a little longer. This paid off, as we were rewarded with not only more mouse lemurs but a sighting of the juvenile aye-aye leaving the nest. This shot was impressive, given the precarious location, and made our encounter all the more on par with Bigfoot or Nessie sightings.

the elusive Aye-Aye (T.Larsen)

Into the (Ranomafana) woods

This morning, I was relieved to find a longer ramp route up to breakfast. Our hotel kindly packed us breakfast and lunch so we could get an early start, beating most of the groups into the park and seeing the lemurs get their breakfast while we ate ours. Emile and his spotters did their magic, and before you knew it we had a whole group of black- and white-ruffed lemurs to watch, all to ourselves. We spent quite a bit of time observing them and quickly became spoiled to the point where later we didn’t want to linger when there were too many people around. Not that they could block your view of what was overhead, but it felt crowded in comparison.

Black-and-white ruffed lemur (T.Larsen)

Black-and-white ruffed lemur (N.Acero)

too many humans, not enough lemurs (N.Acero)

Pittalike groundroller (T.Larsen) 

Our grand finale in Ranomafana was hiking to a waterfall. It’s probably for the best that I didn’t know how many steep slopes we’d be traversing to get there, and the stairs helped a lot, but it was a lot of up and down before we arrived. Once we arrived I was glad we did it. The falls were beautiful and refreshing, with shaded areas of brightly colored flowers and the only butterflies I saw in the park.

waterfall in Ranomafana

the bridge back to civilization

Late that afternoon, we visited an area on the outskirts of the park where Emile again amazed us with his critter spotting. We parked at an unassuming area along the road, Emile went off into the bushes, and the next thing you knew he produced this frog and giraffe beetle for us to photograph and admire up close.

Mantella baroni (T.Larsen)

giraffe beetle (T.Larsen)

We finished it up with another night hike, and topped it off by having dinner at the research center with its head of operations, Eileen, and a few of their staff. It’s a beautiful facility in an incredible location, and I started scheming about how to have a workshop or retreat held there as an excuse to come back.

The lemurs are waiting for us. Let’s go.

Note: my camera broke before this trip, and while my phone took a few good shots I was grateful my coworkers were better photographers and had better equipment with them. I’ve included their names in the captions.

Amazing how different a place can look by day. Our rooms overlook a stream that I could only hear the night before, and the grounds had carefully tended gardens of roses, orchids, and other types of flowers—with a few chickens thrown in for good measure. We ate breakfast on the verandah of the main building with a lovely view of the jungle in the distance and some good bird watching. This area is known for raining all the time and that was the case when we arrived, but we were greeted with a beautiful sunny day to start our adventure.

Ranomafana has a research facility, Centre ValBio, with close ties to American universities and my work that provided an amazing hookup to our guide, Emile. Tourists must enter the national park with a guide and there are many who work there, but Emile is one of the original and the best. He was the guide who took an American primatologist into the forest decades ago, and it was her discovery of the golden bamboo lemur there that led to this area being declared a national park. Since then he’s accompanied countless scientists as they’ve conducted research in the park, soaking up their knowledge to the point where not only can he spot almost any bird, bug, or lizard to be found, but he can give you the scientific name and some of its behaviors. This was perfect for my colleagues and a delight for me. They even named a frog after him!

Before entering the park, Emile spoke briefly in front of a map and we discussed various options for our time--what we wanted to see, how long we wanted to be in there, etc.

Emile gives an overview of Ranomafana

crossing the river to enter the park

This would be one of the last moments where I would have any sense of where we were for the remainder of the morning. While the trails are quite visible and marked, the occasional sign didn’t help orient me and Emile never bothered us with naming which trails we would take.

one of the signs on the trail

you are here--good luck figuring out what that means

Also, we weren’t always on trails. By paying extra, we were allowed to take the research trails and transects, aka the shortcuts that weren’t as visible but got us to the lemurs faster. Here’s how it worked: spotters would go ahead to known lemur hangouts. Once they located them, they would call Emile and somehow convey the location in a way that made sense to him. So we’d be hiking along in the forest, feeling a million miles from civilization and perhaps listening for a bird, when Emile would get a call on his cell phone. He’d chat a bit in Malagasy, hang up, and announce “the lemurs are waiting; let’s go” and we’d take off up or down the steepest slopes to get to them.

typical trail--at least there were stairs

I think this was more of a transect (T. Larsen)

All the guides and spotters tend to work together so you’d often arrive at the same time as other groups, but I couldn’t help but notice we had a bit of an advantage over our fellow travelers, and were sometimes the only group at a spot.

To be honest, I didn’t really know what to expect, but I quickly became enthralled watching the lemurs. Their movements could be so quick as they’d jump from branch to branch and tree to tree, pausing to hang upside down to grab some food. The only thing cuter was seeing the baby lemurs.

Here’s a sample of what we saw:

Milne-Edwards' Sifaka (T.Larsen)

baby lemurs! (T.Larsen)

Emile explaining lemur behavior (T. Larsen)

Golden Bamboo Lemur--these guys are why this forest is a national park (T.Larsen)

interesting fungus (I did a fairly good job photographing things up close that didn't move)

fairly accurate portrayal of our group--such a great place to snack on Malagasy chocolate (N.Acero)

It wasn't just lemurs, here's a Madagascar Blue Pigeon (T.Larsen)

I didn’t realize how tired and hungry I was until we left the park, but when we sat at a restaurant in the village I ate my zebu skewers with delight.

After our meal we strolled down the main road of the village for a bit, and I got a closer look at some of the banana carts I’d seen the local kids riding on during our long drive. On a closed course, I would’ve loved to have taken one for a spin.

future banana cart racers

typical water source in Ranomafana

typical stand in the village of Ranomafana (N.Acero)

Toward dusk, we met Emile again at the park entrance for a night hike along the road. It started with seeing the mouse lemur darting along a tree branch, and continued with Emile once again seeing things I’d never notice. He pointed out tiny chameleons on the ends of leaves, changing colors before our eyes. We also saw a colorful frog up close.

Mouse lemur (T.Larsen)

Deceptive short-nosed chameleon (T.Larsen)

O'Shaughnessy's Chameleon (T.Larsen)

Boophis albilabris (T.Larsen)

Back at the hotel, the mountain climbing earlier in the day caught up with me and I became painfully aware of how many stairs it took to get to my room.