A Hero’s Journey to Madagascar
When I attended the ManKind Project’s New Warrior Training Adventure in March 2002 I did so as I wanted to be brave. I gave myself the animal-totem name Brave Lion as I felt that I had wimped out of much in my life. Attending that experiential weekend was the first stage in taking my power back.
Last night I returned from seven days in Madagascar. A trip made possible following an invitation from Jenman Safaris that I would write about the experience in the media. They had been kind enough to invite me on a camping safari adventure before but I declined fearing that I would not be able to survive the elements. I feared that I was too soft to rough it.
Following my discipline and dedication to shed my excess weight and get fit I thought differently when the invitation to kayak in the rivers on the East coast of Madagascar, near Fort Dauphin and the Sainte Luce reserve, arrived. JP and I had kayaked a few meters from one island in the Maldives to the next but that was hardly an indication of what this trip – a distance of about 40 km over two days – would entail. I knew that hiking was involved and was comfortable with that but I also knew that two nights in tents were on the cards.
My biggest anxiety was the toilets. I have a thing about toilets. I want them en suite, private, sound and smell-proof, clean and, above all, with running water. I knew the toilets in the camp wouldn’t be. I’m not going to say much more than while I still prefer my comforts, this toilet wasn’t the issue I feared it would be – perhaps nothing ever is.
The kayaking was hard. In parts I felt that I had to rely on my paddling partner Fali but I did really well. I was sitting in the front and we were ahead of the other three much of the time which meant that I’d be the first to pierce the calm of the waters which is a wonderful sight. It also meant I was the first to brush against the low branches of the Delicious Monsters and the mangroves that sit up on the banks like spidery hands having a manicure. My fear of spiders was really aroused. There are huge Golden Orb spiders in webs that span the river and more than once spiders landed in my lap as I accidently pierced their webs or shook them off a leaf. I was scared a lot. I also scared a group of five young children, fishing and playing in the river. There is a legend about the white people who steal the hearts of the local tribes and I was whiter than usual on account of the sun-cream slathered across my face. They ran away screaming and the whole village came to the banks to see what caused the commotion.
From the comfort of the fabulous Manafiafy Beach and Rainforest resort we headed into the forest in search of Lemurs. I enjoyed the first part of the walk and appreciated the shade that the high trees offered from the afternoon sun. All that changed as it grew darker. The deeper into the forest we walked, the wetter it became and, as the humidity rose, so did my anxiety. I thought back to the story of Iron John. I thought this was my Hero’s Journey and my fear was not the spiders and the snakes, (we saw three yellow Colubridae which I heard our guide Earnest describe as Colibri so I tried to think about soft towels instead) but rather my psyche’s shadow gripping me in the sweaty darkness. I could not outthink my anxiety. I tried to manage the situation by checking that Earnest did, in fact, know how to get us out of the forest and eventually I refused to go any deeper in search of the Lemurs. When we did see them I was too freaked out to enjoy them and couldn’t get the idea of being sucked into the wet soil and lost forever, out of my mind.
I have returned from Madagascar a braver man. I now know that I can tolerate much – that I can hold my own with other people who have more experience doing he-man-type things that I do; that I am seen and appreciated for trying.
Who would have thought that in my mid-forties I would learn so many new things about myself? I wonder what my next great adventure will be.