This last week I traveled to the east coast of Madagascar and back – so in the space of a week, I traveled on 4 long-distance public transport busses, took numerous city taxis and “pousse-pousses” (the rickshaws ubiquitous in costal towns in Madagascar), ate in too many restaurants to count, and patronized many businesses. And in almost every case, I had the following conversation.
Malagasy man [after negotiating taxi fare/business service/taking food order]: Wow, you’re really good at speaking Malagasy.
Me: Thank you.
M.m.: No, I mean it, you’re really good.
Me: Really?
M.m.: Have you been here a long time?
Me: Yeah, a while.
M.m.: Because you speak Malagasy really good.
Me: Is that so?
M.m.: Did you study it here? Or over there?
Me: Here. Nobody teaches Malagasy over there.
M.m.: So, you’ve been here a while?
Me: Yeah, 3 and a half years.
M.m.: Do you like it here?
Me: I think if I didn’t like it here I’d have left by now. [But don’t think you’re not tempting me to leave now]
M.m. Are you married?
Me: No.
M.m.: Do you have kids?
Me: No.
M.m.: Do you have a fiancé?
Me: No.
M.m.: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No.
M.m.: How long have you been here?
Me: Three and a half years.
M.m.: And you don’t have a boyfriend? How do you DO it?
There’ve been a few rare variations on the theme. This is my favorite:
M.m.: Are you married? Do you have kids?
Me: No
M.m.: Aren’t you a little LATE?
Me: No.
M.m. No, you’re late. How old are you? How to you plan to ever have kids.
Me: Well, I’m not planning on giving birth 14 times like the Malagasy do.
Then variation #2:
M.m. Are you married?
Me: No.
M.m.: Do you have kids?
Me: No.
M.m.: Do you have a fiancé over there?
Me: Mmmm….
M.m.: Do you have a Malagasy boyfriend?
Me: No.
M.m.: How long have you been here?
Me: Three and a half years.
M.m.: And you don’t have a boyfriend? How do you DO it?
As you notice, hinting that I might have a fiancé after all doesn’t really do anything to change the final pattern of the conversation.
Also note, these guys are not necessarily hinting that they’d like to be my Malagasy husband/father of my children/fiancé/boyfriend. Mostly they just can’t seem to understand how somebody could possibly live alone long enough to have learned an adequate amount of language…or maybe learn a language without having a “private tutor.” So this conversation, depending on how much energy I have at any given time, usually winds up leading to a long health education session about protecting yourself HIV/AIDS and other not-so-desirable illnesses. Because while most of these guys weren’t so delusional to think that I might just be looking for them to take home with me, I guarantee not a one would have said “no” had I offered the opportunity. Nor would they have given up their other wives/girlfriends to come and live with me alone. I know, I found some really scary statistics during a research stop on this trip…and I don’t care to have those statistics confirmed in practice.
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