June 14, 2004
"Mahajunga Excursion"
by Katherine Wolff

I am speeding along the one road between Ankarafantsika and Mahajunga in a taxi-brousse, a 15 person van, writing my emails ahead of time so I can type them quickly at the internet café and (hopefully) save some money. After leaving Tana, we drove 9 hours through the hilly moonscape of central Madagascar, a vast empty land that once was forested, but over the last two thousand years, has degraded into the wasteland that currently persists. Monstrous landslides resulting from erosion and exposure of the red, nutrient poor soil, have marked the hills. Anyone who has visited the badlands in the Dakotas, would agree it was very similar, only (if you can imagine it) with even fewer inhabitants for hours and kilometers on end.
Since we arrived at camp, the routine has been pretty constant. I wake up around 5:30 to go running. This elicits some interesting reactions from the locals, which can basically be summed up as the following: “What the hell are you doing you weird, crazy white girl?!” Day to day living and survival here alone is hard enough work that the idea of running for exercise is probably the most ridiculous concept imaginable. After a cold shower in the company of a beautiful green tree frog who has made the shelter his home, breakfast (sugared rice) is consumed, and we head into the forest to check fossa traps and conduct transect population surveys. Everything shuts down around noon, when it is simply too hot to do anything. We have lunch and either a) lie in our tents, sweating, or b) pretend to get things done when in effect we are doing nothing. We couldn’t accomplish much aside from a few mundane computer tasks even if we wanted to, since all the animals we are studying are taking their own siestas to escape the heat.

Yesterday’s siesta was actually somewhat exciting. I heard a rustling in the leaves above my tent and what I had initially thought to be a snake turned out to be a big 6 inch gecko convulsing. Upon closer inspection I realized that the gecko was either attacking or being attacked by a GI-NORMOUS spider – a huge tarantula monster of a thing. I quickly called Jodie, Haley, and Sean over, and between the three of us, we couldn’t figure out who was winning the battle. We watched, mesmerized, for close to an hour before the death match recessed into the tree and out of sight. Together with the others I left the scene, silently rooting for the gecko, as the thought of a spider that size lingering over my head was less than appealing.
We just passed a “town” (ie., a cluster of palm-thatched shacks numbering more than three) called Ambouromalade. Pretty soon we should be seeing the Mozambique channel. We are going to Mahajunga to buy supplies, send email, and try to get in touch with Luke, who had an emergency in the U.S. and returned on the same plane by which I arrived. The drivers are playing upbeat Malagasy folk music with strong, catchy African rythems. Alain is entertaining us with his car dancing as the land outside becomes increasingly suburban. It should be a good day - I am certainly looking forward to seeing a new Malagasy town, and maybe even getting some ice cream.