Madagaskara: Parenthood

Several days a week I go running and then study English with a group of little girls who are between the ages of 6 and 12. The group is fluid, it’s members shifting a little from day to day, depending on who’s home and who’s free to run and study and play with the Vazaha.

Our greetings have evolved along with our relationship. First it was “EH VAZAHA. AIZA VOLA?” which translates to. “HEY WHITE PERSON. WHERE’S THE MONEY?”. This was, obviously, not acceptable to me. One day, fed up, I stopped and told them (in Malagasy), “Don’t call me Vazaha, my name is Felicia. NEVER CALL ME VAZAHA. When you call me Vazaha, I don’t like you. Don’t ask me for money, it’s rude and you’re a bad person if you do this”. Harsh, perhaps, but effective, absolutely. The next day, they said “Mbalatsara Felicia!”

Since then, my relationship with them has grown. We now run together and study together. And now, our greetings (and leave-takings) consist of every single one of them running up to me, jumping on me, and getting spun around. We’ve worked it out to where they now do this one at a time, and give me plenty of room so as not to get hit in the head with flying feet. Most of them run for a few steps, slow down a bit just as they reach me and then jump up to get spun around. Some of them walk up and hold their arms up to me, waiting for me to pick them up. Some of them try and pick me up after.

However, there is one little girl, Fabiola, who has her own fomba (custom).

For this to make sense, let’s review some physics. Momentum (Inertia of Motion) = Mass x Velocity. Fabiola’s Momentum = Mass (She’s a little under shoulder high and SOLID muscle. I think this girl spends most of her day toting around a couple of babies while a gunny sack of rice is strapped to her back) x Velocity (from the moment she sees me she runs full speed screaming my name at the top of her lungs, there is no slow down just before she launches herself at me either – Think: human projectile).

It could therefore be written that Fabiola’s Momentum is directly proportional to Feliciasterrorshesgoingtodropthiskid.

It doesn’t matter that I’m terrified, it doesn’t matter that I’m not sure I’m strong enough to catch her, it doesn’t matter that I worry every single time that I might drop her – SHE is absolutely 100% sure that I will catch her and spin her around and put her down safely. So that’s what I do, every time (so far anyway).

It hit me one day. This must be what parents live with EVERYDAY, times about a million. This blend of fun, delight and ABSOLUTE TERROR. The knowledge that even if you’re not sure about your own strengths, your child is, which means that you have to act like you are as well.

So I wanted to give a shout out to all the parents out there. I can’t imagine it’s easy, and I know we often take it for granted, but Thanks, for raising us up, spinning us around, and putting us down safe, every day.