May 26, 2004
"Androvoahangy"
by Katherine Wolff

Perhaps my favorite part of Tana has been Androvoahangy, the artisan’s market. A tiny white cab resembling Herby the Lovebug’s premature offspring purged Jodie, Haley, Jenny and I into a jostling, swarming scene. Instantly my head reeled, overwhelmed by the onslaught of colors, smells, dust, and activity. People packed around stands selling everything from hand-sewn underwear, to live frogs. In some places, entire families occupied a rickety stand, children sleeping precariously on top of piles of whatever was being sold. Women sat alone, cross-legged on their lambas, displaying a meager supply of a single item such as a basket full of multi-colored twine. Red dust was everywhere and between the stalls I caught a brief glimpse of a trench with standing water, trash floating on the surface. I quickly averted my eyes at the sight of a man urinating into the ditch. I was only able to absorb the market piecemeal, as most of my senses were concentrated on following Jodie, Haley, and Jenny through the labyrinth of stalls. As though we had entered into some Alice in Wonderland dimentia, the stalls seemed to become increasingly, impossibly smaller as we went. I had to hunker down and duck my head as I walked, feeling like an awkward neanderthal. Repeatedly and with increasing frequency, we had to squeeze to one side to make room for people carrying large sacks of rice on their heads or vendors with trays of small red beans. The stalls were airless, hot, obscured by noise and constant movement.
After what seemed an eternity of haphazard wandering through the chaos, we stepped into a lane that was instantly wider, and practically deserted of shoppers. We had reached the outer fringes of Androvoahangy, the artisan’s market. I bargained for a beautiful flowered table cloth and napkins for my mother. The vendor was a sprightly old woman with a few rotted teeth and a mischeivious sparkle in her eye. I would’ve taken the first price, as the exchange rate is insanely favorable for Americans, but Jodie informed me the price was too high and so I argued it down. It seemed ridiculous to be debating over what amounts to 50 cents in the U.S., but it becomes a sort of game, and I am terrible at it. The woman smiled the whole time, as though she hid a secret behind the amazing deal I knew I was getting. By the time it was all said and done, we were both laughing and exchanging stories. Throughout the morning we made our way past stalls exhibiting detailed woodwork, dazzling butterflies preserved in glass, tapestries, and handcrafted toys. When we told people we were going to the forest to study lemurs and the fossa, they responded with warmth and enthusiasm. For the first time, I truly became aware of my purpose here, and I began to feel an itch to leave the congested city for those forests embroidered on napkins and carved ornately into mahogany trunks.