madagascarportraits
Madame Marceline
Madame Marceline was the gracious owner and host of Marceline's beach-front restaurant by Ankoba. Perfect for Sunday afternoon catch-ups once you got past the small cock-fighting arena behind it, whose open walls meant some passive spectating was never gonna be optional.
Betsileo Family
Which came first, building a small isolated home on the cliff-side of a national road to sell lingonberries? Or selling lingonberries on the edge of road and building a new house closer to the job? I've no idea, but the sound of our oncoming car caused a mad dash to grab the berries and hurry to the road side to sell. The mother was generous enough to both allow for this portrait, as well as show us inside her home and how the upper floor was reached by a retractable ladder. They all slept upstairs at night.
Waiting at the Manambolo Crossing
A requested portrait at the Manambolo River Crossing. Any cars arriving needed to wait until the barge - pushed across from bank to bank by wooden pole - was ready to take the next car. A slow process meant that these kids found opportunity to entertain and be entertained by whoever was waiting on the south bank.
Washing Clothes, Manambolo
Masonjoany, made from ground wood (commonly sandalwood), can be decorative or ritualistic but often it's functional, used for sunscreen and repellent. I took this requested photo while I was being nosey about the clothes washing happening at the river's edge.
Bema, Night Taxi Driver
Bema became a regular go-to taxi driver for nights and a great friend, after a chance hailing by the roadside. He was probably my best source for learning Malagasy, as he, in turn, practiced English with me wherever we were trundling along a bumpy road somewhere.
Manambolo by Pirogue
Augustine, one of many guides on duty in the Tsingy, accompanies us on a tour of the Manambolo river gorge as rainy season begins. The previous day we had been, probably, the last visitors to walk through a narrow access chasm as the rising waters meant it would soon be submerged, until the season ended. We got lucky. He'd warned us that it might already be too late as we approached. Though his assurance that nile crocodiles don't venture to this section of the river also didn't work out as foretold.
Waitress, Mami Jo's
We regularly headed to this place from the office for lunch. This waitress had much patience, humouring our requests for any off-menu 'secret' dishes we discovered and never complaining if our Malagasy or French wasn't up to scratch when taking ten orders from a group who could never make up their mind. It wasn't long before a "You write everything you want down on this paper, instead of me" system was devised for the benefit of all.
Abdoul, Night Taxi Driver
Abdoul was reliable. Literally and figuratively always there when we needed him to help get us somewhere. Abdoul felt that most things we did didn't make much sense, yet, we were very predictable. So predictable, that we rarely needed to ring him when coming out of a nightclub on the weekend as he was usually there, waiting, knowing. Sometimes asleep on the bonnet of his car if it was a warm night, until he recognised one of us spilling out of the door, scanning the darkness for his red and black chariot. This portrait is extra special because Abdoul admitted that he thought my request to photograph him by his car was ridiculous. He felt uncomfortable posing but did it for me anyway, with his frankensteined Peugeot, just before we said our final goodbyes.