Anna Luijten
Study: MSc Forest and Nature Conservation
Destination: Madagascar
Thesis
My name is Anna Luijten and for the upcoming months I’ll be in Madagascar for my thesis. On this page you can read my stories and adventures! To see what the other WURldexplorers are up to, search for the hashtag #WURldexplorers on Instagram.
Introduction
Find an insurance, correct those last two sentences in my proposal, visit my grandma before my departure… I’m sitting in the train and think about all the stuff I need to do before I go. Suddenly a man takes places in front of me. A smell of tobacco and old sweat reaches my nose. He is fat, a bit shabby, not very attractive. “Which book are you reading?” he asks. Not sure if I want to engage this conversation I reply “Alone in the World”. Five minutes later we are talking about his life; he is half-polish, half-Belgian and painter but has a lot of other activities besides. He is interesting but my thoughts are fussy and I keep thinking of all the stuff I need to do. I’ m still stressed from past month and my departure is in less than a week. The preparation of my research project turned out to be harder then I previously thought.
Expectations
Before you board a plane, you consciously or subconsciously try to imagine what your destination will look like. For most people the first picture that pops into their minds when I say ‘Madagascar’ is the one of the movie ‘Madagascar’, with talking and dancing lemurs (I like to move it, move it), and lots of other funny creatures. My imagination was largely shaped by the literature I read for my proposal. These described Madagascar as the hotspot for biodiversity. However, the forests were seriously damaged by deforestation and slash and burn practices. Thereby I imagined Madagascar as a really green country with gigantic tropical forests. Apparently, my subconscious decided to leave aside the deforestation part. From the plane, I did not see any green big tropical forest. The landscapes were all yellow and orange with very little trees. It looked more like a savannah. I started questioning myself: Did I took the right plane?
The joy of the jungle I
Finally, my first camp expedition! Adventurers and explorers, like Darwin, Wallace and Livingstone pop up in my mind while I’m walking deeper into the forest. Discovering the unknown, braving all kind of dangers, exploring new ground. I already see myself, standing heroically on the top of a mountain, my gaze fixed on the horizon. The image of a true explorer.
The joy of the jungle II
So, with a big backpack on my back and twelve porters in front of me we walk into the jungle. We put up the camp as soon as we arrive; tents, tarps that will protect the tents from the rain and the kitchen. We will stay here for 6 days.
The joy of the jungle III
After putting all the poo in my bag, Jurian, me and Jocelyn decided it was time for lunch. Singing “in the jungle, the mighty jungle” (Lion King) we arrive in camp. Team 1, Jeroen and team 2, Wessel and Nathalie are already sitting on the table. Beans and rice are the king his meal. Served of course with a cup of Ranomapangou, a typical Malagasy beverage (water boiled with burned rice). Once the meal eaten and the drinks drunk, it is time to set off again for the jungle.
Taxi-Brousses: a traveler's love
Today I realized: taxi-brousses represent perfectly my relation regarding travelling. This one is quite strange. With travelling I don’t mean taking a fly ticket to some beach country and staying the whole holiday in a resort. I mean the travelling with a big backpack, trying to take the unknown paths, becoming filthy and smelly, happy when you can take a shower, feeling like a king when you eat in a restaurant, etc.
Diary fragment
This story contains some fragments taken from my diary.
Hard feelings
“Madaaame” says the little girl with a plaintive voice. With one hand she is carrying her little brother and the other is stretched toward me. Her scruffy face is heart-breaking. Everything about her is dishelved: her hair, her clothes… She is young, maybe seven. I ignore her and continue eating my croissant in the morning sun. “Madaaame” she says again, asking for money or food. I feel guilty of this gigantic gap between her and me. In these moments I hate myself, I hate this country, and her. I would like her to disappear so I could eat my croissant in peace without feeling guilty.