Poinsettias


Poinsettias grow in pots, at least in America they do, but not here in Antananarivo... They grow wild and free and tall like trees. It is the end of May in Madagascar and the beginning of winter, and all the poinsettias are starting to bloom. These pictures are from places I pass in the neighborhood, and sometimes from a car.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My love affair with the African continent...

Image
What do you do when you are married to a Foreign Service officer? You travel around the world. And if you are with USAID? You travel around Nations of Rising Expectations. Sure we have posts in Rome and Paris, but my husband does not get sent to those places. Except for one time he was sent to Paris for two weeks to evaluate the one and only house owned by USAID in Paris, near the Place Concorde, in a cul-de-sac; otherwise inhabited by Arab Sheiks and Princes all having more money that USAID can count. We were in Afghanistan when Barnett told me that our next assignment was going to be Mauritania. “Mauri-what?,” I said. To simplify the matter, he showed it to me on a map. Since then, we had a globe, and he would point out our next assignment each time. As an Asian/French teenager, you know about Africa because you studied geography. Even then, it was not the best subject while I was in school. I landed in Senegal in 1978, I looked around, and except for the fact that there ...
Read more

Back to my “roots” (French born overseas…), and an all American gal…

Image
Indian Camp??? In Normandie??? There is a term in Madagascar for French born in Madagascar, “Zanatan.” There was also a term for French born in Laos, but the term is not as appealing. In Laos, they were called Falang Khi Nok  “Bird Poop.” I will refer to myself as Zanatan (sounds exotic) , instead of Bird Poop. Although I have no idea what Zanatan really means, and I will stay ignorant. (Actually, Barnett checked, Zanatan means "Child of the country.) Being born French, Lao and Vietnamese in the midst of colonial French in Southeast Asia was not easy. You, (as you in a general sense of you) , are raised to be French; and then you are expected to be Asian, especially the girls. You are supposed to be dealing with life as an Asian, i.e. being sheltered, educated and married to someone possibly rich, with a position. You can marry white men if they are educated French, but no Americans. And then you would restart the cycle with the next generation. Boy, did I mess up or ...
Read more

Loose tongue… (Another faux-pas of a Foreign Service Spouse!!!)

Laos was not exactly an assignment for me since I was home, and I didn't depend on the American Community, and what was in itself a great thing.  Afghanistan was our first post, and back in 1976, spouses were not allowed to work.  Therefore, it was a lot of gatherings, shopping, book club meetings, thrift shop visits, traveling around the country  (which was a good thing) , cooking sessions, and of course parties. Those parties that ended in the morning, and I remember having to carry my shoes home I danced all night. Then there were the "dreaded" luncheons. I was in one of those dreaded luncheons at my neighbor's home.  The Ambassador and the Director’s wives were there.    I was about 26 years old, young, hot-headed, and quite obnoxious, “the hoity-toity princess” with a very loose mouth, I might add.    Now that I think about it, I was not sure why they invited me to begin with.    I was not always a pleasant person.    And...
Read more