zanan’ tany

I was born in the American Hospital Paris and took my first steps on a ship crossing the Suez Canal. My parents had spent a year in in language school in France in preparation for their new life in Madagascar (at that time a French colony). My mother had never been out of Iowa, and didn’t have a clue what she was getting into. While raising 4 kids, she integrated into the local village life and taught English to young Malagasy kids who were aspiring to continue their studies abroad. Dad, who was also a teacher and mentor to Malagasy colleagues, had a huge sense of adventure and loved hearing the stories of everybody he came across. He had grown up on a farm in South Dakota and his boots never left the ground. Dad’s favorite times were roughing it for weeks at a time in remote villages, immersing himself in the culture. Out of necessity, be became a skilled car mechanic, as the roads in Madagascar were in terrible shape. I am the oldest of four children.

Malagasy was my first language which I soon lost when sent to boarding school in Fort Dauphin. However, in high school I was determined to re-learn the language, so I joined various Malagasy choirs, made friends and felt deeply at home. We were required to attend the two-three hour church services every Sunday. To pass the time, I would study Malagasy, comparing English bible passages to the same in Malagasy. I learned words and phrases like “pillar of salt”, “redemption”, “mercy”, “salvation”, “repent”, “the betrayer”, “woe are you”, “gluttony”, “child sacrifice”, “idolotry”, “evil spirit”, “blasphemy”, “adulteress”, and also everyday words like “donkey,” “milk and honey”, “goodness”, “compassion”, “circumcision.” “dream”. “widow”, “locusts”, “clean and unclean”, “forgiveness” …

I met Bruce in college in the US; he was lost and floundering and I had already spent 2 years in that strange country. Bruce had grown up in India, and it didn’t take us long to bond.

As a teenager, I had wanted to adopt one child from each continent of the world. Bruce and I have five children, of which one is adopted from Madagascar. We raised our kids in India, but took two years sabbatica in 1999 and 2000 to work in Madagascar when the kids were older. All of them developed fond feelings for the Island.

Bruce is a Family Physician and works in a low income clinic. I am trained in Public Health Psychology, with an emphasis on International Development and founded and manage a social business for rural Indian women (www.bluemangoindia.com). We have five grandchildren, all bi-racial with Tibetan, Ivorian, Korean, and Malagasy origins. So my childhood dream has pretty much come true!

Bruce and I are now dividing our working time between Madagascar and India. Last year, Bruce raised funds for 20 hand-held ultrasound machines and spent his time training doctors to use these machines and interpret the results. This year he will conduct continuing education seminars in dermatology and cardiology.

I ended up working in Antalaha Prison, (exposed by a BBC documentary called The Children in Prison for Stealing Vanilla) in partnership with Friends of Madagascar Mission. It quickly felt like all of my childhood experiences, adult training and work life had come together to bring me to this point. I teamed up with a Malagasy couple, Dr. Elson and Hanitra along with their friend Mme. Lalao and together we worked hard and were delighted by all that could be accomplished in a short amount of time. We hired a splendid construction team who arrived almost out of the blue; the prison officials were wonderfully cooperative and supportive of our renovation work and have welcomed us back.

This year our little group has registered as an official entity under EMM Trust Madagascar partnering with the Reformed Church of America. We have raised start-up funding to initiate prison farmland restoration and will see where it all leads. Even marginalized village women in India have donated to this cause. Our hearts and minds are open to possibility and surprise as we follow God’s leading.

Featured here are photos of our kids and grandkids, dear ones who remind us that a warm and tender soul is always underneath each and every person we encounter, whether caught in the prison system or otherwise.