Monday, August 10. Tolagnaro (Fort Dauphin).
For dinner, Todd, Patsy, Ingrid, and I were driven to the house where Rado and his father are living temporarily while they supervise the building of gas stations in Fort Dauphin for a national company. We got out of the van, crossed the narrow dirt road, passed through a gate into the small front yard, and then over the threshold into. . . a completely empty room!
The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the freshly painted sand-colored walls and deep red floor, and a strong varnish-like odor scented the room. Todd explained that the floor had been painted with a special compound designed to keep down the dirt and repel creepy-crawlies. Three open windows, one in the street-side wall, and one each in the side walls, were framed by blue-and-white-checked curtains.
Moments after we entered the room, Rado brought in a sturdily-built and substantial chair, and then another, and another; and in no time there were a half dozen chairs. A substantial table, and then two others were produced, ranged end to end across the room, and covered with checked tablecloths. Then more chairs appeared, and soon there was seating for twelve, an auspicious number for a gathering of parishioners!
As dusk descended and a freshening wind gathered strength outside, Rado's dad shuttered the windows. Through the only inside doorway Rado and his dad brought the usual Malagasy assortment of drinks: THB (Three Horse Beer) pilsner, Fanta sodas, Bonbon Anglais Limonade, and Madagascar-vanilla Coca-Cola. These were accompanied by nuts and other appetizers, and then the courses began: tomato and cucumber salad, finely-shredded carrots in a vinaigrette, and-- suddenly the light went out, and the city was plunged into darkness; Tolagnaro's electricity had failed.
Mini-flashlights were fished out of pockets, and Rado and his dad brought out several empty condensed milk cans with holes cut in their centers to hold small candles. Clearly they had been through this little drill many times before!
And now by candlelight the courses continued: crevettes (the Francophone word for shrimp), and rice with porkchops and zebu meat as laoka. As I was enjoying this amazing dinner among these new friends in Christ, I looked at the flickering silhouettes cast on the walls by the candles, and I thought that it must have been just like this on that night of the Last Supper, when another group of twelve friends gathered in an Upper Room, with their shadows cast upon those walls by other candles.
And then, to our great surprise and astonishment and delight, Rado and his dad emerged from their kitchen with langoustes! Ingrid and I agree that these were the most succulent and the sweetest lobsters we have ever tasted. What a feast!
And finally, for dessert, pineapple, papaya, and bananas.
And then it was time to call it a night, and we made our way back through the still dark night, relieved to discover that we had light in our residence, and content to bask in the memories of an extraordinary evening.
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