Feb. 29 (just kidding...it's March 1), Madagascar Day 33
After my nap, something I've been afforded everyday, I woke up to the violent rain and thunder reinforcing the idea that life here is subject to the plate it's handed. We went to visit the village chief and the commune mayor--think city and county gov't, Madagascar style. The chief's house was not as nice as my host family's. The mayor's, on the other hand, was like a mansion. Which leads me to the thought that wealth is so relative. Here, the chief's house is standard, my host family's house is nice, the mayor's house is wealthy, and my real family's house in Spartanburg is unthinkably rich. But at home to say that is an overstatement would be an understatement. Does my point make sense? It does in my head at least which probably isn't saying much.
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