Archive for the ‘Tsaratanana’ tag
From Sandrakaley to Tsaratanana
Taken from the Madagascar Team 1 Journal, originally by Sam
The day’s plan was to walk from Sandrakaley to the neighbouring town of Tsaratanana (this might be spelt wrong, but who cares - not me, that’s forsure). However the chance for transport arose, and as the town was about 7 km away, we grabbed it by the balls (but then released it, stroked them better and apologised). However, as we were by this stage used to Madagascan punctuality, we were not surprised by it not turning up on time and left on foot.
The transport met us half-way and half of the group clambered in while the others chose to jog (albeit for about a minute). Much hilarity was created when Mike and Martin, travelling by use of legs, were fooled into thinking our place of rest was further on than it actually was while the rest of us hid in a schoolhouse waiting for them to realise and come back, which fortunately they did.
The schoolhouse was to be where we would spend that night and was about 5 minutes walk from the village. Feedback had organised a football match for us aginst the locals for which we had meticulously planned for under the guidance of our Captain Oli. However, many of our tactics and game plans were thrown out of the window when we learnt it was to be only 7-a-side. To give everyone a chance to play we decided to have 2 teams and rotate the positions.
The teams were:
Safe Hands Sam Smasher Pokey Chopper Bloor Razor Reynolds Skipper (Oli) Nanah the Short The General (Martin)
and
Safe Juans Juan (Mike) Cup-a-soup (Han) Pavarotti (Sal) Thorley Minimus Chunder Charley Biffer Lambert Chuck (Ben)with Helena, Kay (saxophone and timpani respectively).
Kick-off was at 3.00 pm and we jogged into the village to the pitch, where scores of natives surrounded the pitch. After a brief warm-up the opposition turned up sporting pink American Eagles tops and flip-flops.
The match started frantically and after 5 minutes I found myself facing an indirect free kick just outside the area. The balls was fired towards me and I had it covered. However due to an unlucky bobble on the uneven surface the ball sneaked through my legs and into the back of the net (well, the trees behind). It was an early blow and it took a few excellent saves on my part to convince me that my hands actually were ’safe’ after all.
And so the match wore on in the afternoon heat with some excellent performances from our very own foreign transfer Nanah, Skipper and the General. After a few team changes we were soon 2-0 down and looking weary. However, the General put us back in the gam with a piercing firecracker of a shot that lef their keeper standing. 2-1. Unfortunately more defensive errors followed and Safe Juans was left helpless to their strikers powerful (bare) right foot. Skipper then went on to score us another goal, bizarrely by simply walking past the goalkeeper with the ball at his feet. Game on! That is until they scored again. Bullying of the keeper by Ben worked to no avail and the game looked lost. However, 10 minutes from the end a balls was crossed in front of their goal and Skipper’s towering dominance allowed him a header into the goal. Game on! That is until the final whistle was blown, final score 4-3 to the local team. Although tired and sweaty we congratulated the winners in high spirits and were treated to free Fanta.
The evening meal was cooked for us by members of Feedback and we ate the meal of Zebu stew, rice and unknown vegetables with them in the schoolhouse along with the village chief and the main teacher. Thanks were exchanged after the meal before we moved outside around a campfire. We were then treated to some traditional songs and dancing. I was then made to look stupid once again by blindfoldedly stepping over non-existent children, the humiliation of which will haunt me forever.
