This and that

I don't think I'm a particularly good photographer. I sometimes look at real photographers - their beautiful, well-composed, crisp, vibrant and often-artistic pics and think that I should rather stick my camera in the cupboard and forget about ever shooting again. But then, I enjoy it, no matter what the images look like ... and the Nikon just refuses to rest idle on the shelf. (And, not to forget, my sister appreciates them). The pics may be rough, the pics may not be artistically remarkable but, mostly, they tell a story about real life wherever I happen to be ... (Click on links in captions for bigger images)

I've discovered, as recently as two days ago, that our western stomachs just don't respond well to food from street-side shops. But then it's the same in any third-world country - first it was the fermented mare's milk delicacy, Ayrag, in Mongolia 10 years ago that had me praying to return to my Maker, then the black rice-paddy fish in downtown Tana several years ago, and most recently mi-sao (Vietnamese noodles). And my Malagasy friends just chuckle semi-sadistically.

"Manahoana vazaha" (hello foreigner), or just plain "vazaha be!" (big foreigner!) is the most common greeting I hear as I wander my streets. I normally just respond with a "manahoana gasy" (hello Malagasy) to the kids, most of whom rush to have their photos taken.

I don't think I've ever seen Midley offspring number 5 with a clean face. But this kid, one of my next door neighbours who (by the way) is terrified of my white vazaha face, takes the cake. I guess this is what comes of playing in the charcoal bin ...

Just chillin on a Monday afternoon.

Tana - 10ks. That's 15 minutes by car at night; 1 hour on an average day.

I am rally driver, watch me play!

"Toki" - Life's pretty good in Grade 3!