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Madagascar 6-week
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A brief update to let everyone know that the students made their connecting international flights in Paris on time, and are currently on schedule on Air France Flight # 054 to arrive in Washington, DC later today at 4:27pm EST.

- Boulder Administration
    [post_title] => Students En Route on Air France Flight 054
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Madagascar 6-week

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Students En Route on Air France Flight 054

Boulder Administration,Madagascar 6-week

Description

Hi everyone, A brief update to let everyone know that the students made their connecting international flights in Paris on time, and are currently on schedule on Air France Flight # 054 to arrive in Washington, DC later today at 4:27pm EST. – Boulder Administration

Posted On

08/9/15

Author

Boulder Administration

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    [post_content] => Hi everyone,

The students have all boarded their international flights and have departed to Paris, where they'll be connecting to their flight to the US.

We'll keep you posted with more updates as they land in the US!

- Boulder Admin
    [post_title] => And they're OFF - Students Have Boarded International Flights
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And they’re OFF – Students Have Boarded International Flights

Boulder Administration,Madagascar 6-week

Description

Hi everyone, The students have all boarded their international flights and have departed to Paris, where they’ll be connecting to their flight to the US. We’ll keep you posted with more updates as they land in the US! – Boulder Admin

Posted On

08/8/15

Author

Boulder Administration

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    [post_content] => As we prepare for the journey home, leaving this place that we all have come to love deeply, Micah, Sidonie, and Christy challenged students to start thinking about how they plan to share this experience with folks back at home. Students each gave one word, one sentence, and one paragraph answers that start to answer the ubiquitous question we're sure they will face frequently in the coming days and weeks: "How was Madagascar?" Here's a sneak preview (plus a photograph of Ambatomanga, one of the communities that we came to love!)

How was Madagascar? In one word:

Inspirational

Incredible

Great

Life-changing

Solid

Cool

Amazing

Fulfilling

In one sentence:

Madagascar was really…something else.

The indescribable inspiring qualities of Madagascar have been eye-opening.

Madagascar altered the way that I view all aspects of myself and my life.

Madagascar was an incredible adventure that led me to a new home.

It was the best thing that I’ve ever done in my life.

It was probably the craziest, eye-opening, amazing six weeks of my life.

I cannot describe how amazing it was; it changed my life./There are lemurs there.

In a paragraph:

Madagascar was an indescribable experience; however, if I had to describe it I would say it was beautiful. Beautiful not only because of the scenery or landscape, but also because of what it had to offer. The Red Island blessed me with love, family, opportunity, inspiration, and a new home. I don’t believe I can ever repay this country for what it has given me, but I’ll start by returning as soon as I possibly can.

Madagascar was an eye opening experience that introduced me to all the amazing and real things that happen every day in a country 10,000 miles away from my own. It taught me how to look at really hard things and find a way to break them down and try to understand them. I will always remember the amazing experience I had here.

Madagascar was a better experience than I ever could have imagined.  It changed my view of the world, and changed the view of my future.  It was full of wonderful wildlife and wonderful people that have inspired me to want to return.

It was so cool. I mean, I wasn’t so sure about it at first but it definitely brought me out of my comfort zone. It’s such a beautiful place with incredible people who made me realize how possible it was to find joy with so little. It’s a second home to me.

Madagascar was an insane experience that I will look back on in ten years with a huge smile spread across my face. I have been fortunate enough to travel to this wonderful country where the memories that were made here will consume most of my thoughts back home.

Madagascar was truly life changing. I spent six weeks learning and speaking a new language, tasting new foods, finding a new home and growing to love three new families. You wouldn’t think that being in such a foreign place would help you understand yourself more, but I’m going home with a new found confidence and understanding of who I am along with a new home.

It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times. Actually, because my poop scale was always a 5, it was only the best of times. It made me a more mature and more patient person, which isn’t saying much because I’ve never been either and 0 x 0 is, well… you get it. Nonetheless, it was one of the best experiences of my life, and I am a different, if not better person because of it.
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How was Madagascar?

Madagascar Students,Best Notes From The Field, Madagascar 6-week

Description

As we prepare for the journey home, leaving this place that we all have come to love deeply, Micah, Sidonie, and Christy challenged students to start thinking about how they plan to share this experience with folks back at home. Students each gave one word, one sentence, and one paragraph answers that start to answer […]

Posted On

08/7/15

Author

Madagascar Students

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    [post_content] => The past six weeks have been a wirlwind of taxi brusse rides, treks through the forest, whale watching, and homestays.  We have reached our final night on the Red Island and as I think back on all that we have done it seems like just yesterday that we were sitting at the AirFrance gate in DC waiting anxiously to start experiencing Madagascar.

Madagascar is place of beauty; not only is the wildlife absolutely breath taking but the people are the kindest, most welcoming people I have ever met.  When we were leaving our second homestay in Ambatomanga everybody there was so sad to leave we were all crying.  Just six days earlier these wierd vazahas come into Ambatomanga and got put into a home with a family they new zero about and then we were crying to leave them.  That is how welcoming and accepting Madagascar is, whether it be a kid on the street or an old lady in the market everyone cares.

It is sad to be leaving Madagascar in just over 24 hours, but at the same Madagascar has taught me so much that it will never truley leave me and I know i'll be back.

 

 
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Madagascar 6-week

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Final Night

Trevor Roche,Madagascar 6-week

Description

The past six weeks have been a wirlwind of taxi brusse rides, treks through the forest, whale watching, and homestays.  We have reached our final night on the Red Island and as I think back on all that we have done it seems like just yesterday that we were sitting at the AirFrance gate in […]

Posted On

08/7/15

Author

Trevor Roche

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    [post_title] => Isalo National Park
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Isalo National Park

Jennifer,Madagascar 6-week

Description

Posted On

08/6/15

Author

Jennifer

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    [post_content] => 

Golden

My second night at my homestay, my sister looked at me across the table with wide and serious eyes.

Lalatina is 18, speaks fluent French and, of course, Gasy and speaks a little bit of English. She's the oldest sister that I live with, three have moved out of our small one room house that I share with my two sisters. Lalatina is the older of the two followed by a 14 year old who I call Boozi. My mom here is a lot different than my Mangily mom. She is small, frail and weathered with a beautiful bright smile that she tends to cover up with work worn hands if it catches her off guard. She and my father, who I have only met twice because he works in Tana during the week, hardly ever speak around me as their French is not as good as their daughters and they seem embraced when I don't understand them. My family consists of five sisters, one brother, Bobby who just mills around, and the eldest daughter who lives next door with her little boy Tina and the absolute cutest little girl ever who's name in English is Hope. The eldest daughter happens to be Trevor's mom here, and at night we only have a thin wall separating our families and I can hear him laughing and talking among his family. Considering his mom is my sister I am now Trevor's aunt, even though he is about three years my senior.

Sitting at dinner with my mom, Lalatina and Boozi, and 4 bowls of watery rice with a side dish of 5 meat slivers each, my sister clasped her hands together and looked at me quite seriously. Her demeanor had changed from laughing as I tried to pronounce the Malagasy words I was being taught to a face wracked with worry as she lowered her chin across the small wooden table.

"Weezie-" She can't say my name right so I told my family to call me Weezie " what is gold?" Confused about her sincerity with the question I explained that gold was the shiny yellow metal in jewelry that was quite valuable and expensive. My family got quiet and looked at each other with eyes clouded with concern. "I noticed the Pot-o-Gold on your bed and was worried about your safety". At this point I had no idea what was going on. Gold? Much less an entire pot of it that I had somehow missed in my tent on the top bunk I shared with my sisters? Noticing my confusion Fia climbed the frail steps to my top bunk and took something out from under my sleeping bag, concealing it in the lamba I had been using as a pillow. Lalatina explained that if I were to have it here, I should give it to my teachers or keep it in a safe place hidden away so no one was to steal it. At this point I could not have been more confused- I definitely did not bring gold with me to my rural homestay much less a bucket of the stuff. I asked my sister if I could see it- still confused as can be- and my family looked around with worried eyes. My mom closed our red painted rickety wood curtains and sat down, a portrait of worry. Fia handed me the lamba wrapped package carefully and they all watched as I held onto my sack of gold. At this point curiosity was KILLING me, what the heck they meant was confusing me and I had no clue what it could possibly be. Slowly, I peeled back the silky fabric of my red and blue lamba to reveal the firetruck red plastic of my jar of peanut butter. Of course I burst out laughing and my family looked at me like I was insane. In Tana, we visited a Shopright and all picked up food necessities, mine of which consisted of peanut butter and chocolate, to bring to homestays. The peanut butter, sure enough, had POT O' GOLD painted across the side.

                After explaining what it was, my family looked about as confused as I had felt a few minutes ago and so I jumped up on my bed and grabbed some Gouty, the sugary crackers vastly available here, and the bananas from the center of the table. I put a swab of peanut butter on each cracker and a slice of banana and pretty much begged/forced everyone to try one. I watched as Lala's face turned from distrust and dislike to a wide peanut buttery smile as she looked at me and said " It's del-li-ci-o-cis!" I made one for Trevor's little brother who had wandered in and watched as he tried it, the foreign flavors fumbling around on his tongue made his face contort in complete disgust to complete bliss in a matter of seconds and right then I declared that on Thursday morning, I would make an American breakfast for everyone in my family. Well, my family expanded to Trevor's family, and Mecky and her sister Huby so this morning Sweet-T and I set to work on making an "American breakfast". I woke up at 6:45, which was pretty late compared to the first-cow-moo-o'clock wake up (5 or4:45 generally) and I wasted no time getting to work. Yesterday Mecky helped me buy a about a kilo of bananas and 4 baguettes so I had a lot of work to do. I started by cutting each of the baguettes in to three sections, then those sections into halves lengthwise. After we had a mountain of bread on one tray, I set to work cutting every single banana into a million slices while Tina stood behind and laughed every time I almost cut myself with the knife. I set about trying to make toast and ended up enlisting Tina and Fia to help make and stoke the fire. Making toast is quite the process when over an open fire, and so Trevor and I ended up sticking halves of baguette on knives and spoons (why I chose a spoon I have no idea) and slightly burning the top of every piece of bread. We then set on buttering each piece with peanut butter or Nutella (another purchase of mine in Tana), but due to the limited quantity of individual Nutella packets in ratio to our seemingly endless piles of "toast" each piece only got a smidgeon of the sweet chocolate goodness. We, well I, had a rough time spreading the Nutella, as the packet I was using was almost frozen solid (not that cold here- no clue how) so being the smart, logical person I am, I held the Nutella packet over an open flame for like 5 minutes and ended up burning the tips of my fingers. It went pretty smoothly after that, we applied banana slices to the toast- putting more in places where there was less spread- and putting each finished slice onto one of three trays Lala was holding. It started going more downhill from there, if you can believe it. There were too many bananas, so one tray was half "toast", otherwise known as cold charred bread, and the other half was random badly sliced bananas. Lala and I set our tiny table, which is the length of my knee to the ground, next to Trevor's table (same size) and placed down the trays and cups needed. Mecky joined us with her sister at that point and all 13 of us crammed into the one room content of my home. Everyone looked at the breakfast, hopeful and while it did looked fairly good- taste was another story. There probably wasn't enough spread to make up for the smoky open-flamed char flavor and the "toast" at this point was now cold. There also was no rice. A major issue. Unlike beforehand, the disgust ridden faces didn't turn to smiles, until they all pretended it was good to not hurt mine or Trevor's feelings and Mecky and I laughed our heads off at the unfortunate and incredibly awkward situation at hand. The only two, besides the Americans, that seemed to like our concoction even the slightest bit, were Tina and Hope, the youngest of the clan. Hope just kept going, shoving baguette after baguette into her tiny chocolate covered mouth with a smile spread thicker than the Nutella stuck to her lips, cheeks, nose and eventually, hair. As Trevor, Mecky and I left, I noticed my mom making rice, to make up for the lack there of at breakfast.

 Walking to Bella's house to talk with her dad the President, I thought of how willing, yet wary, they were to try my food from back home. The fake smiles across the faces, the quiet cooking of rice in the background, the gathering of more than two families in a one room house- all because I said I wanted to cook for them. How I had viewed it was me making them a meal, letting them relax- I wanted to help out and to carry my own weight in my household. Yet my service required an equal amount of service for them- they taught me how to make a fire, supplied me with the tools needed and the excitement to encourage me to make the breakfast in the first place. Nate said it well earlier this trip when he said he was afraid to ask for water, not because he didn't want to take away from little they had, but because he knew they would try to fit the whole ocean in his cup.                             

                Being here I have experienced kindness in ways I had never imagined in my short fifteen years of existence. My mom in Mangily getting a translator, my niece learning how to say "Ca va bien, merci" in French in the cutest way even though she had no idea what it meant, my older sister protecting me at a fireworks show cause she was worried I would get pickpocketed, my eldest sister here watching me do laundry with her and then letting me do it on my own, and my family pretending they like the taste of what you technically cannot call "cooking" of what is certainly not "American breakfast" or possibly even "food". I remember two moments in my homestays where I was dumbfounded, speechless even at the kindness in my families and how it made me feel. One in Mangily when my mother lunged across the table at my older brother for calling me a Vazaha and insisted that I was as much her daughter as he was her son, and here with Lala, Boozi, Tina and Hope where when I walked up to my homestay for the first time, admittedly almost in tears I was so terrified, only to have those fears vaporize when my entire family ran out of our house and gave me one giant hug. For all they knew I could have been crazy or dirty or mean and nasty yet they still had as much excitement as I had fear and helped me transition so easily when they helped me unpack and gave me a tour of the town. The dinner we had with Nate, who works at Madecasse chocolate (highly recommend), summed it up nicely; the magic of Madagascar is partially due to the people- both the best and the worst you will meet in your life. From what I have experienced, the best people are those who are true Malagasy; who embody values I thought I knew and had in a whole new way. Who are truthful, kind, loving and accepting of everything and are so willing to go out of their way to make someone who is living in their home, as a guest no doubt, into a daughter. What started with a jar of creamy peanut butter turned to a disastrous meal taught me a valuable life lesson: Kindness- not the fake forced smile "how are you?" kindness, the real, genuine, pure hearted, selfless sort of kindness, goes a long way.

Yak 2

Whenever I get in a fight with my siblings my dad always reprimands me saying first "You're the oldest" and then finally "You choose your friends, you're stuck with family". In those situations I always thought about how dumb a saying that was that’s like me saying something like "Apples are a fruit, but broccoli is a vegetable". Yes an apple is a fruit. We know. It wasn't until today when I watched Hope, my niece and Trevor's sister, fight with her brother over the Fanta I bought her, what that saying actually meant.

Going into both homestays I was scared out of my mind. In Mangily, when our taxi brousse pulled to a stop, Mecky even commented saying something about how scared I looked. Not even the most terrified of faces could describe the inner panic I was feeling. That panic only grew as we sat in the living room of Madam's house in Mangily and that same panic tripled when my mother grabbed my hand and pulled me to her when I said my name.

This time around I sat in the bus content with myself and my lack of panic. I was really proud that I wasn't scared in the slightest and in my head I congratulated myself. I congratulated myself again when we got out of the car and I still wasn't nervous. Long story short I spoke too soon. When Sidonie gave us the low down on our families the familiar panic rose inside my chest and throat and I was just as scared as ever. Standing in front of all the parents I forced Emma, on the opposite side of the line, to go first in saying the names of her parents. One by one I watched my fellow dragons saunter over to their new families unafraid and was secretly envious of their lack of worry. I was disappointed in the tight feeling in my chest that meant that I was a coward, that I was a wimp and not as brave as I had hoped our thought. Standing there alone, clutching a wrinkled piece of paper I completely butchered my mother’s impossibly long Gasy name and gave all the families a good laugh as my face turned tomato red and the foreign sounds came out of my mouth sounding like I had just shoved a bunch of forks into a garbage disposal. My mother, a tiny woman who for whatever reason reminds me of a baby bird, quietly walked up and shook my hand. She offered to take my backpack but since I could tell it weighed more than her I took it and we began our promenade down the one road in our town towards my new home.

The way I see it the homestays can go one of two ways. The first being I spend the entire time in my bug hut reading, sleeping, being antisocial or being out of the house for as long as possible. I could make zero effort with my family and be completely uninterested and unhelpful. I could learn nothing from my homestay at all. Being as truly terrified as I was that would be incredibly easy. I could sit in my bughut and look at the postcards and drawings I had done of San Francisco and feel homesick and awful for an entire week. Instead, I made the conscious choice to fully embrace my homestay. I promised myself to say "Yes!" as much as I could and to spend as much possible time making connections with my homestay. I would help, I would learn and eventually not only would I like, but I would love. I know I make it sound like a laborious chore to be in a homestay, and for the first three minutes it was. I was scared out of my mind and on the walk to my house my mom didn't talk to me at all except to tell me quietly to walk slower and I was insanely worried that she already didn't like me. But when I approached my house, my two sisters, nicknamed Pisou (which means cat) and Boozi (which means something maybe), burst out of the house screaming welcome over and over again as I got engulfed in a giant hug, They helped me unpack, showed me around town and instantly we became fast friends. Now, I look down from my top bunk, clad in the necklace my sister gave me, and watch my family play a super intense game of spoons that Trevor, Jennifer and I taught them to play earlier in the day. I see Hope showing Trevor pictures and nearly die when he hoists her onto his lap, clearly interested in whatever she shows him. Looking down, I no longer see what I would have at the beginning of my homestay, Trevor and some people, I see my family. My heart swells with love as my nephew grabs the first piece of chocolate off the table, setting off the rest of the crew as the scramble for the last pieces and my mouth fills with laughter as Boozi is left empty handed. No longer do I look down and see some random room I'm staying in, I see my room, my house complete with the coffee table we eat on, the closet filled with an endless supply of amazing frip clothes my mom modeled for me and think of the memories I have right here in this room. These people, these incredible, beautiful kind and loving people really are my family and in a way they chose them, but more so they chose me. They accepted me, took me in. They taught me to do laundry, how to cook rice the right way, how to dance and play hand games, how to write in Malagasy and French and how to appreciate the endless supply of bananas the red island has to offer. True you do choose your friends, and on this trip I have made countless. Like Mari, the little street vendor who changed my whole outlook on life and inspired me in ways I cannot repay, and Landy, the woman who let me watch her work for three hours and made me countless bowls of noodles as we exchanged laughs over the dumb things the French-Gasy vazahas said. Yes you can choose your friends, but it seems I will have left the red island after choosing three more families. My dancing sisters in Mangily, who joined me at a nightclub and let me teach them the Macarena in not one, but three languages. My family here in the town of the blue rock, who faked smiles of my attempt to cook and clean, my little niece who kisses my nose and braids my hair, and my mother who has taught me the purest form of kindness that has moved me beyond words. Maybe you don't chose the family you're born into, but you can chose the families you somehow stumble into and I leave with three, my two homestay families and my Dragons family. My Dragons family helped rebuild a confidence in myself that I had lost long ago and helped rekindle a fire of passion in work with children that had somehow dwindled in the past years. In a new place, with a different language, new people and completely different culture, one wouldn't think you would learn the most about yourself. However, my Dragons family helped me come to term with parts of myself I hadn't even known about and let me know it was okay to accept them. As I have said I will be leaving the red island in about a few days, give or take a few hours, and unlike when I got on the plane in D.C., this time I will be joined by one family, carrying a head full of memories and an armful of souvenirs from my other two families as I fly home covered in the "rouge" dirt that earned this magical place the nickname of the Red Island.

Home-sick

I remember the way the cool, compacted red dirt felt pressed into my forehead. In my state of almost delirium, it felt like a wet cloth against my flushed and feverish skin. The second brick, the one under my knee, was pressing into my skin hard enough to bruise and I knew I would wake up in the morning with an angry purple or blue welt- a painstaking reminder of the nights terrors. However moving was out of the question, due to my state, and mentally I accepted defeat and lay motionless on the two slick bricks. While I may not have let my body move, my mind was buzzing, trying to figure out how to explain to my host mom that I was sick and debating whether or not the movement was worth it. I gave myself a little test and peeled my forehead from the brick and my headlamp from the crook of my arm. The 101 spun around me so I allowed myself a few moments to close my eyes before I continued my test. There was a jarring smell that burned the inside of my nostrils, and horrifically, I could hear the unmistakable gurgles and grumbles coming from the depth below. After prying open my eyes the world seemed to blur for a second and I was unable to make out what was in front of me, but when the gauzy haze was lifted the contents of my homestays 101 made my stomach contort so violently that I had to close my eyes again.

After about fifteen minutes I pulled myself off the floor and wandered out of the bathroom and into our kitchen area to talk with my family. I have very limited French so explaining that I was sick took all I had to get the message across. Another 15 minutes into the most painful game of charades ever I just told my family to get Trevor and semi-sprinted, propelled by urgency, back to the 101.

"Eloise?" I opened my eyes to a confused Trevor standing outside the 101 saying my name and after explaining that I was clothed I meekly pushed on the little stall door so he could see the predicament. Surveying the situation, he face paled and looked a little sick himself, after all I was crumpled in a ball on top of our rural homestay's makeshift toilet- a hole in the ground with a brick on either side for foot placement as one squatted over the hole. I explained that I was really ill- obvious I'm sure- and watched him dash off the retrieve an instructor from where they were staying down the road. Slowly my head dipped back to its original position- pressed into the brick- and for a few minutes I carried on like that with uninterrupted quiet in the outhouse. Next thing I knew my older sister Lucia, who had just returned from Tana where she worked as a nurse, was helping me off the floor and into our living room. A bucket was thrust into my lap and a bowl of rice- the Gasy answer to everything- placed on the table in front of me. My entire family was staring at me; 4 adults, 3 teens, 2 kids and Hope all stared with eyes full of pity just looked at me and clucked their tongues quietly murmuring to each other and themselves. Lucia put socks on my feet, a rubber band in my hair and my black puffy jacket over my shoulders and started talking to my mom who was now positive it was her cooking that had made me sick. While not 100 percent, I was pretty sure it was a weird mayo-pasta dish but was in no way going to insult my quiet mothers cooking so I tried to explain it was the lunch I had with my group that had caused my violent spouts of sickness. Trevor crashed in the room, out of breath and cheeks rosy from running and explained that the hotel Christy, Micah and Sidonie were staying at was all locked up so my sister got on the phone. He sat down next to me and talked to me for a bit until Hope burst in to tears directly in my face which was not helping anyone at all. Next thing I knew Micah was there with a bag of tricks Christy had packed and he, Trev and I were trying to assess the situation in the best way possible. We ended up concluding that I would go back to the hotel with Micah for the night and grabbing an extra jacket, my toms and my lamba we were on our way accompanied by my worried dad.

After getting to the hotel I remember only a few things; Sidonie talking on the phone to someone, the I-Team talking about how Trevor was also sick, Sidonie mentioning an injection to Christy and Micah, Sidonie bringing me her flip-flops as I threw up repeatedly, Micah sitting with me at 4 am and talking to me because I couldn't sleep, trying to read Micah’s book but the words swimming before my eyes, Trevor getting to the hotel, Christy and I talking about getting him a bed, hearing Trev get sick in between my own fits and lastly Micah practically carrying me to my room after he found me asleep on the bathroom floor, accompanied by my water bottle and a pillow. I still have no idea how or when I got there, or my thought process on that one. This morning when I woke up I was overcome with two things: 1.) a pounding headache and 2.) a deep feeling of homesickness for my homestay family. Mornings are my favorite time with them. My sisters and I are locked in our room until the sun is up so I watch them dance and we do each other’s hair and watch Gasy music videos (all terrible) until we are summoned to start on our daily chores. While waking up in the dark in a bed with a legit mattress and quiet was really nice and what I needed, I couldn't help but shake that feeling or thought train of what I was missing at home.

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Madagascar 6-week

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Eloise’s Yak Yaks

Eloise Schrier,Madagascar 6-week

Description

Golden My second night at my homestay, my sister looked at me across the table with wide and serious eyes. Lalatina is 18, speaks fluent French and, of course, Gasy and speaks a little bit of English. She’s the oldest sister that I live with, three have moved out of our small one room house […]

Posted On

08/6/15

Author

Eloise Schrier

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    [post_content] => Dear Madagascar Students & Families,

This weekend marks the end of our Madagascar summer program and students will soon be boarding their planes to return home and share their tales of adventure with each of you. We are sure you are anxiously awaiting their arrival!

Below is a reminder of the return group flight information for your reference:

August 9th, 2015
Air France #935
Depart: Antananarivo (TNR) 1:40am
Arrive: Paris, France (CDG) 11:25am

August 9th, 2015
Air France #054
Depart: Paris, France (CDG) 1:45pm
Arrive: Washington DC (IAD) 4:10pm

Should you need any assistance during student travel days, please call our Admin cell phone for assistance: 303-921-6078, or email: update@wheretherebedragons.com.

We wish all students a great trip home!

Sincerely,

Boulder Admin
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Madagascar 6-week

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Madagascar Return Group Flight Information

Dragons Admin,Madagascar 6-week

Description

Dear Madagascar Students & Families, This weekend marks the end of our Madagascar summer program and students will soon be boarding their planes to return home and share their tales of adventure with each of you. We are sure you are anxiously awaiting their arrival! Below is a reminder of the return group flight information […]

Posted On

08/4/15

Author

Dragons Admin

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There is nothing more fulfilling than seeing the students enjoying their time mingling with local people in their own way. This is the stuff that makes life worthwhile for the people they encounter.  We cannot stop keeping the information that in this Homestay village called Ambatomanga, host families already request for an extension. They voiced their happiness and the difference that the students already made in their households. They also reported that the students are sociable, wise and great children and companies. Bystanders also  including kids, young people and parents from the village have approached Sidonie that they would love to be part of the students' friends and would love to have the chance to be host families.  It seems that deep friendships is taking its way into deep but pure relationships. [post_title] => Students regrouping with locals [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => closed [post_password] => [post_name] => students-regrouping-with-locals [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2015-07-30 07:13:53 [post_modified_gmt] => 2015-07-30 13:13:53 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://wheretherebedragons.com/?p=123752 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [categories] => Array ( [0] => WP_Term Object ( [term_id] => 89 [name] => Madagascar 6-week [slug] => madagascar-6-week [term_group] => 0 [term_taxonomy_id] => 89 [taxonomy] => category [description] => [parent] => 255 [count] => 49 [filter] => raw [term_order] => 5.1 [cat_ID] => 89 [category_count] => 49 [category_description] => [cat_name] => Madagascar 6-week [category_nicename] => madagascar-6-week [category_parent] => 255 [link] => https://my.wheretherebedragons.com/category/summer-2015/madagascar-6-week/ ) ) [category_links] => Madagascar 6-week )
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Students regrouping with locals

I-team,Madagascar 6-week

Description

There is nothing more fulfilling than seeing the students enjoying their time mingling with local people in their own way. This is the stuff that makes life worthwhile for the people they encounter.  We cannot stop keeping the information that in this Homestay village called Ambatomanga, host families already request for an extension. They voiced their […]

Posted On

07/30/15

Author

I-team

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    [post_date] => 2015-07-28 11:16:23
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This is a quick update to let you know that we arrived in Ambatomanga, a very beautiful village situated 1 hour away from Antananarivo, which is famous for its reputable cheese factories, panoramic landscape and welcoming people. We will spend 1 week in the village doing our second one-week of homestay. Students are focusing on language, local culture, politics and observing a local election.  We will head to Andasibe on Monday to visit a national park and wrap up our amazing summer. We will keep you posted for the next update. Stay tuned and big hugs from the Madagascar I-team! Christy, Micah and Sidonie [post_title] => Warmest greetings from Ambatomanga, Madagasikara! [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => closed [post_password] => [post_name] => warmest-greetings-from-ambatomanga-madagasikara [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2016-01-20 15:18:14 [post_modified_gmt] => 2016-01-20 22:18:14 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://wheretherebedragons.com/?p=123627 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [categories] => Array ( [0] => WP_Term Object ( [term_id] => 89 [name] => Madagascar 6-week [slug] => madagascar-6-week [term_group] => 0 [term_taxonomy_id] => 89 [taxonomy] => category [description] => [parent] => 255 [count] => 49 [filter] => raw [term_order] => 5.1 [cat_ID] => 89 [category_count] => 49 [category_description] => [cat_name] => Madagascar 6-week [category_nicename] => madagascar-6-week [category_parent] => 255 [link] => https://my.wheretherebedragons.com/category/summer-2015/madagascar-6-week/ ) ) [category_links] => Madagascar 6-week )
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Warmest greetings from Ambatomanga, Madagasikara!

Instructor Team,Madagascar 6-week

Description

This is a quick update to let you know that we arrived in Ambatomanga, a very beautiful village situated 1 hour away from Antananarivo, which is famous for its reputable cheese factories, panoramic landscape and welcoming people. We will spend 1 week in the village doing our second one-week of homestay. Students are focusing on […]

Posted On

07/28/15

Author

Instructor Team

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    [post_date] => 2015-07-27 06:29:22
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    [post_content] => Our last day at our homestay in Mangily consisted of a final beach party! Which included a pick up soccer game, traditional malagasy music, dancing with our host families, and dinner. It was a great way to send us off on our next adventure and an amazing way to show our appreciation to our welcoming and loving host families.
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Beach bash in Mangily

Isabella Heffernan,Picture of the Week, Madagascar 6-week

Description

Our last day at our homestay in Mangily consisted of a final beach party! Which included a pick up soccer game, traditional malagasy music, dancing with our host families, and dinner. It was a great way to send us off on our next adventure and an amazing way to show our appreciation to our welcoming […]

Posted On

07/27/15

Author

Isabella Heffernan

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