27-Month Layover: Preparing for Peace Corps Madagascar

Gabriel Sandler
Sep 2, 2018 · 3 min read

“27-Month Layover” is a little misleading. The Malagasy visa actually calls my time in Madagascar a “stopover.” My country of destination is the United States. My mailing address is somewhere in the capital, Antananarivo, but for the first three months I’ll live in Mantasoa. After that I could be placed anywhere on the island.

I’m Gabriel Sandler. I’ve accepted a Peace Corps invitation to teach and learn in Madagascar. I leave on September 4, 2018.

I filled out pages and pages of paperwork for Peace Corps, for the application, visa, Peace Corps passport, medical and legal clearance, and sent accompanying panicked emails when something went wrong. I spent hours researching sturdy shoes, pocket knives, solar chargers, quick-dry wrinkle free clothing. Ever since accepting the invitation in January, I’ve learned a lot about backpacks, especially cycling packs and waterproofing.

Throughout all that nervous browsing, from January to now, days from departure, the idea of my service as 27-month layover stuck.

I think it’s perfect.

I’ll be a guest in Madagascar. A hopeful helper, eventually a Malagasy speaker, a neighbor in a Malagasy neighborhood. But still a guest. Never a citizen, not an expert and only as local as I can earn. I already abbreviate words to act like I know something, with jargon like “Mada” and “Tana,” but that’s really just a comforting script. It helps me feel prepared for what comes next.

I’ll work with, under, for Malagasy communities, but Peace Corps is my employer. When my flight lands in Madagascar, I’ll nervously and idealistically push through my service until someday I come back to my country of destination, home. If I do my job well and build up my credibility, this opportunity will lead to more. That’s the idea, anyway.

Nerves do creep up and threaten my composure, but unpredictably. In Costco buying razors, soap, ibuprofen, vitamins and floss, waves of anxiety swelled around me and crashed down aisle to aisle. Re-learning to ride a bike, after never really learning, I fell into a bush and wondered how Malagasy roads compared to my driveway. I think about my loved ones, my comforts and my habits. Sitting in my bedroom, doubts and concerns and insecurities argue against my confidence, experience and optimism.

None of that, however, eliminates my excitement. They live together. I get to move to Madagascar with a storied organization and represent my country. That’s a lucky first job.

I’ve filled my last weeks in Arizona with friends and family and literal packing. The jigsaw puzzle of things I want versus things I need between two duffels and two backpacks is challenging. The ukulele got cut first, then the sleeping bag, hiking boots, a few hats, extra shoes and one of five bars of soap. They have soap in Madagascar, but it might be a while before I can shop.

I don’t have much else to say, I haven’t left yet. I’ll update this blog when I can, take some photos, share things on my social media (@GabrielRSandler on twitter, @grsandler on instagram), but I don’t know how often or how soon. I’ve tried not to say goodbye to people, it freaks me out. Instead, I’ll see you later and talk soon.

  • Gabriel

The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.