I have been looking forward to day three, as it’s when are going to visit the school named in Louise’s memory. But first, we drop in on Ankindranoke school, one of the top two and one of the five original builds, where grading is done on ability. The classes are orderly, the kids well-behaved and the teachers use their materials carefully. There are 1-2-1 reading assessments taking place outside.

There’s a disruptor in the classroom, but teacher Janet restores order

It’s also one of the WFP–sponsored projects, where kids are given lunch,  and rice and beans are being prepared by mothers/volunteers. This is something I always  advocated as a former Trustee. In all our countries, the kids come from such poor homes that they often come to school hungry – and you can’t learn on an empty stomach. It’s something UWS must do more of.

Making lunch; and the kindergarten class who were afraid of us; the lavatory block with an orderly queue

I’m also particularly thrilled to drop in on the Mikea  school, built for people displaced by the national park to retain their culture. Sadly the powers that be decided they could no longer carry out their traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyle, which in truth posed little threat to the environment as most hunter-gatherers live in harmony with their surroundings – but here we are. At least they haven’t been totally abandoned.

Ross and Janet being mobbed on arrival at the Mikea school

The children here are really quite wild, and very dirty. As ever, UWS schools are full of surprises, for here we meet an absolutely charming teacher, a Tana university graduate who speaks excellent  English. She is  married to the Mikea head-teacher, who she met when she came down here as a government teacher Extraordinary to find her in this godforsaken place. 

Despite the dirty faces, the children are joyful and have the biggest smiles; the lovely teacher family

We are too early for Louse’s school at Tampolove, and are turned away. They are not ready. So we go into the village and have lunch in a restaurant in the local ‘hotel’ – see photos! The village is quite prosperous – there are even a number of shops and small market selling old clothes in addition to the normal food and dry goods, and some solar panels and satellite dishes – in comparison to others we have visited, probably due to the fact the mayor lives here. As we wait for lunch, I wander round and make a few friends.

Top right, the hotel rooms at Tampolove; the beach and some village shots, including a typical shop

When we arrive at Tampolove we understand. The teachers are all dressed in matching magenta tee-shirts and  line up to greet us, while the children form a guard of honour.  We stand there, drinking it all in – the enthusiasm and joy as they sing songs and hold up welcome signs with Ross, Vicky and Louise written on them. Truly heartwarming.

We then visit the end wall of the school wall where they have painted on the inscription I wrote, many months ago – thank goodness it is appropriate! It is an emotional moment.

In memory of Louise Cattell who always strove for success; may she inspire the pupils of this school

Next to the classrooms to see work in action. When we make our return presentation and Hiaro demonstrates the computerised learning tool, I study the puzzled faces of the pupils –  they’ve never seen anything like it!

One of the girls is asked to demonstrate the computer game, her friends look on in puzzlement; the kids are playing a singing game, heads shoulders knees and toes type

Kindergarten performs a  special dance and we are presented with collages made out of beans in shapes of fish, zebu, tortoise and Madagascar. In all the classrooms there is lively activity, creativity, smiles and laughter – her spirit is here.

Finally to the last school of the day, Beangolo, which was the first one built.

It’s perched amongst the sand dunes by the sea. As we arrive, the teachers emerge from the huts by the gate, clad in their uniform white lab coats (very odd but a tradition here). It’s a mystery how they appear so immaculate from the reed huts and there’s only brackish water for washing. And they are so articulate and intelligent.

Stephen demonstrating his digital photos to some women in the school compound

After an emotionally draining day, it’s a relief to get to the heavenly Mamirano lodge with its luxurious  bungalows on a white sandy beach. My first swim in the sea! A real paradise. Wish we could have stayed longer. 

The drive back to Mangily for our debrief takes us on scenic road by the sea, peppered with fishing  villages. It may be pretty but it’s a shocking road, despite its claim to being dual carriageway in parts! We pass a broken-down vehicle but  don’t stop as there seem to be plenty of helpers.

Here we say goodbye to the wonderful team of Karine, Hiaro, Richard and David, who have navigated us through our trip so skilfully and with such good humour and patience. How they do these road journeys so frequently beggars belief. I suppose it’s a way of life here.

Farewell lunch and welcome beers for the boys, Janet and I stick to wine!

We now have two days R&R.  There’s not much to do and hawkers line the beach and assault you with entreaties to buy everything – lobster, massages, trinkets, coconuts – and the sea is rather murky due to high winds and the rubbish that comes in on the tide as we are in a village. So we stroll around the local market, get pursued by some little  rascals who persuade me to buy a coconut off them for ‘sunset’. The sight of little Otto almost taking his fingers off with a huge machete trying to open it is scary.

Market scenes – Janet finds a buthcers boy, Never give up is broken down and Tin Tin and Snowy are everywhere!

On our last day we hire a pirogue as both Janet and Stephen are keen sailors. The crew are great and even allow Janet to stand on the outrigger. It’s glorious being out on the water.

A bit of a wobble getting on the outrigger!

All too soon we are back in filthy Tana, where we visit the UWS offices to meet the staff. I had hoped to visit a handicraft shop, but the traffic is appalling and we struggle back to the hotel through noxious fumes, the air fetid with rubbish and dust, hand carts battling with mini-buses, rickshaws and private cars in the single lane – utter chaos. The 40 minute inward journey takes over an hour and a half on return.

With the Tana team; old cars and jacaranda

It’s hard to find anything beautiful about the city – there are some colonial buildings, the old railway station but the streets are overrun with hustlers selling everything imaginable, beggars, food stalls with fresh produce, butchers with dangling fly-covered sausages, and the usual Chinese tat. Even the paddies between the sprawl and the shiny new buildings are full of rubbish, but somehow the ducks and geese splash about merrily and the occasional zebu and sheep pick at the detritus.

It’s a bump back to reality. This is how most Malagasy live – on the edge, queuing for transport, scratching a living somehow (only 10% people are in official work). It’s hard to know whether  people in the south-east, where our schools are, with the very limited opportunities for work, would rather be there, farming, fishing, subject to the vagaries of global warming, or here in the city, living below the poverty line and in more squalor but with opportunities to hustle a living. People here have little but their smiles. As our kids show…

Sunset over Tana on our last night

Thanks to Stephen and Ross for supplying photos that I couldn’t – Stephen of us and Ross, the better wildlife ones

Thanks to Karine and the UWS Madagascar team for hosting us and for arranging such an excellent and organised trip

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