While I was away from my site with Dysentery a couple weeks ago, someone broke into my house. As you can see, the hut I call home isn't exactly a fortress... the thief was able to easily tear down the leaf wall (which faces an empty field) and hop inside.
They stole money, clothes, books (in English, which they can't read), knives, harmonicas, sandals, a bracelet and a couple postcards of sentimental value. Initially, when I walked in and saw that my home had been broken into, I felt quite sad and discouraged. Especially after just coming back from a week of being very sick with an intestinal issue. After making a quick assessment of what was missing, I walked up the sandy hill to a place where there's cell reception and called the Peace Corps Safety & Security officer in Antananarivo. I was impressed with his professionalism and concern for my physical and emotional well-being. He made all the necessary phone calls and by the following morning, the regional director was at my doorstep with two armed police officers and the district mayor.
They stole money, clothes, books (in English, which they can't read), knives, harmonicas, sandals, a bracelet and a couple postcards of sentimental value. Initially, when I walked in and saw that my home had been broken into, I felt quite sad and discouraged. Especially after just coming back from a week of being very sick with an intestinal issue. After making a quick assessment of what was missing, I walked up the sandy hill to a place where there's cell reception and called the Peace Corps Safety & Security officer in Antananarivo. I was impressed with his professionalism and concern for my physical and emotional well-being. He made all the necessary phone calls and by the following morning, the regional director was at my doorstep with two armed police officers and the district mayor.
Though their "investigation" was tediously pointless at best, I appreciate the effect their presence had in my village: my house was repaired immediately and the teenage boy that stole my stuff ran away from home. Even the gaping holes that have been in my leaf roof for six months have been patched... just in time for the rainy season. Though the police may not have actually accomplished that much during their eight hours in my village, other than asking me if I wanted a husband and enjoying a free lunch & beers (they insisted I buy), it was yet another interesting cultural experience. At least, that type of perspective is what keeps me keepin' on, through all the trials and tribulations that make up my life here in Madagascar.
Sorry to her that someone broke into your house. This is still a huge problem in any third-world countries like Madagascar: police officers often prey on the victims (as described above asking for free lunch & beer). They do it to a foreigner, imagine how they would treat their fellow citizens.
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