Day 9: Final descent

After over a week of avoiding a bad stomach, I had finally become the next victim. I’d had a rough night, getting up around 7-8 times, alternating between vomiting in the long grass at the edge of the field and going to the toilet. I rarely refer to my trips as “holidays” and prefer to use the term “adventure” and it’s not the first time I’ve been keeled over at a campsite simultaneously sweating and shivering as my body fights the latest tropical bacteria. I did my best to focus on the positives, as above me the night sky was spectacular and as I was outside for most of the night I witnessed a few shooting stars. But I couldn’t help the inevitable anxious panic, thinking if I don’t recover quickly then there are no healthcare services nearby and even the ones we can travel to I am terrified to attend. After a long, painful night I staggered over to Hery’s tent and had a chat with him explaining what had happened. He suggested I took medicine, which I already had, and slowly attempted to rehydrate. I couldn’t face breakfast partly because I had no appetite but also I knew the next real toilet I would come across would be in around 10 hours time and there’s only so many times you can willingly go in an “appropriate bush” with an audience. The porters also looked a bit worse for wear as they staggered around camp sleepily, fighting off their moonshine induced hangovers!

Despite my energy being depleted, my stomach cramps had reduced, and I walked with Fabrice who cheered me up as he chatted passionately about his degree and future ambitions. He also spoke about his involvement in projects that aimed to support both education and healthcare in the South of Madagascar. I was shocked at the level of poverty I’d seen as we progressed further south. The economic transition is shown simply through what the children request, in the capital they shout “madame, un stylo” requesting a pen for school, but in rural southern communities children shout “l’eau, l’eau, l’eau”, requesting water. The south of the country has been devasted by the effects of climate change. In 2021, a severe drought in southern Madagascar caused hundreds of thousands of people to suffer food and water insecurity, prompting mass migration to the north to flee the famine. This event is thought to be the first famine caused entirely by climate change and Fabrice explained that further into the trip I would witness the effects of this, seeing how inhospitable the south of the country is becoming.  

After a couple of hours of gentle descent our 4x4 vehicles awaited us, with the same drivers as before – equipped with their planks of woods ready to assemble any temporary bridges. I sat on my rucksack surrounded by 6 children that didn’t seem to even pay attention to the fact that I kept having to vomit in a bush and continued to dance, giggle and shout “salama!” I survived the 4x4 journey and managed to keep my stomach at bay with deep breaths. We stopped at a village on route for some air and to stretch our legs and a local man attempted to have a conversation in French with me. Considering both how I was feeling and my year 7 standard French, we didn’t get much beyond establishing each other's names, but he was persistent requesting that Hery acted as a translator! The afternoon involved more travelling until we reached our accommodation in Isalo National Park. I opted to eat a bit of plain bread to settle my stomach before collapsing onto my bed and falling into a deep sleep.