Upon our return, Gabe wrote to us:

Dear Madagascar Returnees -

Well, I'm thinking that you will have (hopefully) recovered by now, both in sleep as well as detoxing your system from diesel fumes and the like. As for myself, I recovered as well, but it wasn't easy going. After I dropped you guys off at the airport, I made my way back to Tana, where I spent the rest of the week in meetings with fellow volunteers and staff as well. It wasn't fun, and I felt like I needed a vacation after all of that. Finally though, I've been able to get back on a more sane schedule, and I have now spent 8 days in the same bed, so I'm pretty stoked about that. Well, stoked until I leave in 5 days to go on my next vacation, but I digress...

I just wanted to reiterate how much I appreciated your guys effort, patience, and sense of adventure in coming here. I know that it was no easy task for all of you, but you really put your best feet forward and made a show of it. I was probably too pre-exhausted when you guys arrived, and for that, I give you my apologies. It's tough, as in any job, to fit in everything you need to do before and after vacations, and when your vacation is anything more strenuous than sipping on Coronas and reading trash lit, well, it makes for a quest rather than a fest. Although, in truth, much festing did happen (to fest=to party).

I really enjoyed your company, not only to remind me of the anchor (in the good sense), that keeps me sane and connected to the greatest people on Earth (you), but also so that I could share a taste with you of what I've been doing with myself. In the lonely nights and dark moments that inevitably happen, it has been difficult going when you know that the people closest to you have no concept of what your life is now like, and it is that much harder to call on them for support. Now, that's not the case. You've seen the trees, talked to the people, smelled the odors, and walked the broken streets that I have. Of course, I couldn't show you everything, and even if I could, I wouldn't. But I feel very satisfied with what I did show you, that together we were able to experience what this Island has come to mean for me.

I hope that you walk away from this experience not bewildered by the vastness of it, nor belittling of the triteness of it. Madagascar is both of those things, and more (and less?). You've come to the other side of the world, and you survived. Not only did you survive, but you learned from it, and I think, it had a chance to learn from you all as well. We are not so different, these people and our people. These places are not so different. Even our languages are not so different. I guess that's what I like about it here, and I hope you got your own versions of that interpretation yourselves.

To wrap up, I wouldn't have appreciated any other group coming in and tiring the crap out of me during two weeks of strenuous and strenuously luxurious travel (except the next group coming in, they are cool too.) You guys are just as awesome as I remember (take that how you want to), and I was really glad to have all of the goodies and the news from home that guys brought me. So, in telling your stories to family, friends, and colleagues, just remember that like me now, you will never be able to fully contextualize what you've seen. You'll never be able to relate exactly how this place sounded. You'll never be able to really explain how it made you feel, and how it didn't make you feel. That stuff is for you, and it's a treasure. Perhaps that is the best gift of this place, and your time here. At least, it has been for me!

Love, Gabe

Peggy’s reply:

Hi Gabe, I have on my list of things to do this weekend to write you and give you an update about the processing of the trip, but I guess you beat me to it. I am quite glad you did as you used words and articulated some issues that I was feeling, but hadn't quite been able to name yet. Your message made me cry in a number of places (good job, Gabe!). Part of the reason I haven't written yet is because a kid sat behind me from Paris to the US and about blew his nose off his face. I mentioned this to Tom on the plane at the time. Sure enough, within about a day after arriving home, I got very sick with a cold (as did Ginger). Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of last week, I laid around and did next to nothing. Your Dad appropriately described me as "flaccid". I dragged myself to work and caught up from being gone three weeks. Actually, knock on wood, the work was not piled as high as I feared. I have been sleeping a lot this weekend, so I think tomorrow I will be my normal perky self again. Your Dad (as I am sure he will tell you) survived the cold until Wednesday when he boarded the plane to go to APA in Boston. He's been struggling there with it. It was probably somewhat of a good thing that my body refused to function, as it allowed me time to recuperate from the trip.

Ok, first to the business issues: ----------------------- Cribbage rules: The Shuffle and Cut--The Dealer has the right to shuffle last. The player to the right cuts. The cut must leave not less than four cards in each packet.

Loser of the game deals first for the next game.

This is a big part I have had wrong since I started playing again with Tom. "The Starter"-After the crib is laid away, non-dealer cuts the pack and dealer turns up the top card of the lower packet. This card, placed face up on the pact, is the starter. If the starter is a jack (called his heels) dealer pegs 2 points at once. What this means is that you have to throw cards in the crib BEFORE you know what the starter is going to be. That would really change the nature of the game.

"Right Jack" Jack of same suit as starter counts as 1. It is called his nobs.

Did we have other unanswered cribbage questions? -------------------- Your Dad had taken 800 pictures on the trip. He was able to cut them down to 400. I thought sending 400 pictures to friends and family was a bit overwhelming, so I spent quite a bit of time yesterday getting them down to 236. I think the pictures do a really good job of capturing the different phases of the trip and the country. Once Tom gets back from Boston, he is going to try to put some captions on the pictures, and we will be sending them out more widely. I have been trying to tell the stories of our trip (without the pictures) to co-workers and friends. Your Mom probably told you that we met with Carroll, Benj, Jinae, Ryan, and her to talk about the trip and give them some pointers. What I experience each time that I talked about the trip is a mini-version of what you said in your message about not being able to completely convey your experience in Madagascar this last year when the people haven't been there and seen the country. I think about the trip many times a day. I keep thinking about all the things I experienced, learned, and saw and know that no matter how much I want to tell my people here about it, I can't give them that part of my experience. I really appreciated you saying that this is our "treasure", just for us. Nice way to put it. I think it helps to calm me down about my inability to make that happen here. It was truly a very RICH experience!

And for that we have YOU to thank!! No denying, it was an incredibly challenging experience; but we knew that going into it. I know that I ran out of resources a couple of times during the trip and didn't behave my best. (I apologize to all of you for those moments!!) But, after coming back and reflecting upon all parts of the trip, I wouldn't have had you change any of the itinerary. All parts of the trip were very meaningful. I can't think of what part I would have cut out if we would have known ahead of time what the trip was going to be. It was especially meaningful to have met your Peace Corps Volunteer friends. They all have such great spirits, and I learned so much from each of them. I can see how you really appreciate all of them. Even though we have seen and experienced a thumbnail of Madagascar, only they can really understand your experiences there. What a unique and special bond. It was also so great to see your places in Fianar and Mananjary as well as the Peace Corps mevas. Seeing where you live, work, shop, walk, etc was invaluable in terms of understanding a part of your experience.

Most of all (as your Dad said while we were there) it was so wonderful to see you! I can't tell you how proud we are that you are doing this. The way you can cope with all the situations that come your way with all the different people who are there to interact with. I especially appreciated your "talk" about how you know when it is a time to be afraid and to rely upon your judgment regarding this. That helped me to calm down quite a bit. Having you to make the decisions and plans, to take care of the more difficult situations (e.g., the taxi drivers, the people asking for money such as the man in Mananjary), and to manage the money was such a comfort. Well, Gabe, you are all grown up!! And we couldn't be more proud of the man you have become. (Spoken like a parental figure, I know.)

On a different note, how are the travel plans for your Mom, Carroll, and Benj's trip coming with the travel agent??? ;-)

My heartiest thanks to you for all the hard work you did before and during our trip there. I know it was exhausting for you, but you hung in there with us. This was indeed a trip of a lifetime.

Misotra and much love, Peggy

And Ginger’s comments:

Jeez, I wish I had some meaningful comments or deep thoughts to add to these wonderful e-mails. When people at work ask about my trip, I usually quote Gabe's line about not being on vacation, but on an adventure. With several weeks' perspective, I still have the same impressions I did on arrival...Madagascar is an extremely beautiful country with such poverty in the big cities, and so many miles of empty road that I felt overwhelmed. Gabe, I feel that you and all of your PC friends are heroic. No matter how you brush it off, your day to day living can't be all that easy. The best part of the trip for me was seeing how you cope/interact with the Malagasy and in meeting all of your friends. And while you may not feel we saw 'your Madagascar', I think we did get a taste of it and sort of a feel for how you have been living the past year. Trying to describe any of our travels, or the people we met, or the places we went sounds so trite when compared to reality.

Oddly enough, one of the best parts of the trip for me was playing cribbage...... That's something we could do anywhere, I know, but somehow it added to the experience. Just having the chance to laze around, relax and laugh with all of you was a plus. (I don't know why six hours sitting in a car, then ten in a plane, two in an airport, nine more in another plane, more airport sitting, more plane is not relaxing. Sitting is sitting, right?) Another thing....when I returned to the US I had a new, sincere appreciation for our infrastructure. That has stayed with me.

I want to thank all of you for allowing me to tag along on the trip. Gabe, you did a wonderful job in herding us around the country. (We probably did seem like frightened sheep some of the time.) I would not trade any of our travels (except all of the dogs, and fighting the dragon). Misotra.

Alana S. (Ginger) Krieshok

And a few weeks later, one last missive from Gabe, giving his version of the mouse story:

Sent: Fri, 5 Sep 2008 Subject: Gabe Krieshok Peace Corps Newsletter

Esteemed Readers - Well, here we are again. I come to you from the lovely but chilly city of Fianarantsoa, in the southern half of Madagascar. I have moved into my new apartment here, and I'm starting to feel tamana (settled-in, a very important Malagasy concept). As I write this, the Call to Prayer is being sung on a loudspeaker near my house, and if I listen carefully, I can hear some men on the other side of my wall facing the street throw down dominoes. My vacations are finally over, and I was happy to see my family, and sad to see them go, (especially since they were funding the whole thing). We saw many adventures together including beaches, snorkeling, broken-down taxis equipped with MacGyver drivers, expensive hotels, 4:30 AM wake up calls by roosters (who crow not just in the morning, but all day long-common misconception), and enough windy, curvy, bumpy bad roads to have any stomach running for the nearest outhouse. But, my family, being the troopers that they are, laughed the whole way and took it in stride, and any crying that was done was done well outside earshot of spectators.

We have hit the one year mark in Madagascar, and now I'm on the slope down, with only really 10 months left here (9 months and 25 days, but who's counting?) I also just recently celebrated my second birthday in country, and I must say, the second one was much more enjoyable than the first (desert, alone, surrounded by hot flies vs. expensive but cozy tex-mex ((in Madagascar??)) with great friends and big beers). In fact, I've gotten so comfortable with my daily life here, that I'm well aware of how quickly life is moving, and I'll be saying my goodbyes before I'm ready. Or...maybe I'll be ready.

As he just made a shuffle in the kitchen, I should let you know about my pet. His name is Micro, and he is a full grown (but still tiny) adult brown mouse. He did not begin life as a pet, but as a pest. In my house last year, in Mananjary, rats were not an uncommon site. I don't like rats. They are big, gross looking, and they carry the plague (endemic in Madagascar). So when I saw my furry little friend scurry across my cement floor, well, the hunt was on. I found some rat traps, but after a wasted (but stale) Peanut Butter cup had been consumed no problem, I realized that my friend's small stature and weight were not enough to trigger the mechanism for my man-eating rat traps. A new technique was required. You remember the velociraptor hunter from Jurassic Park? Turns out I'm like that guy, but with mice. I stalked my prey pretty well one night, cornering him near my trash can, and when I faked left, he shot right, and I covered him with my pasta strainer (actually the second mouse I've caught this way). I'm too much of a democrat to actually curmudgeon the little guy, so I half-filled a bucket of water and threw him in, going back to my reading.

Well, after about 5 minutes, the guilt set in. At the same time, Micro could sense my resolve weakening, and he started "meeping" for mercy. It was just too damn adorable. I pulled him out with the steak tongs and put him back under the strainer. Trouble was, I had to leave the next morning. I decided to give the guy a sporting chance, so I put a piece of bread and a mug of water under the table. I would return in a 8 days. If he survived the ordeal, I had agreed to build him a cage and tame him. If not, well, that's that. Fast forward 8 days. I come back. It's a thick strainer, hard to see through, and after a few nudges on the plastic, I don't sense any movement, and I assume my friend has passed on. I lift the strainer slowly, searching for a little brown body, rigor mortis set in. Not 2 seconds later, a flash of fur whizzes by my leg, making a beeline for the mouse hole in my kitchen. He had been possoming me, and he won. So, Micro earned his place in my house, and taught me a valuable lesson about the circle of life. He will not be caged, and I just try not to leave food out, although we do run into each other now and then. Mostly like two old foes reuniting at a veterans ceremony. Well done lad, well done. However, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that kitten when she arrives...