Malagasy_emotion

A Journey Beyond Expectations: Confronting Poverty and Destruction in Madagascar

This reflection is about bucket lists, expectations, comparanoia, and the pressure we place on ourselves to feel only a certain way when we travel.

Visiting Madagascar has been on my bucket list for years.

Before I left, I set up an Instagram account, @malagasy_joy, to share my 16-day trip with others. I imagined documenting moments of happiness and awe. But since I arrived, I’ve found myself navigating a wide range of emotions, with joy being rather conspicuous by its absence—at least in the way I anticipated. However, there is joy here, and I’ve seen it reflected in so many of the smiling Malagasy faces.

What’s been more overwhelming for me, though, is processing the abject poverty and environmental destruction that Madagascar faces. As someone with South African roots, I find myself confronting the weight of “white guilt” and colonial history, a history that is still evident here. Madagascar only broke free from French colonialism in 1960, but traces of that era linger, from the non-native eucalyptus trees invading the remnants of primary rainforests to the vintage Renault 4s that still defy time and odds. It is a country that feels pillaged.

At times, I’ve found myself comparing my experience in Madagascar to my earlier trip to Costa Rica this year. Yet, I remind myself that Costa Rica’s GDP per capita is about 7.5 times that of Madagascar’s. Poverty here is stark, and it’s clear that most of Madagascar’s people are battling to survive at the very bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy. The country struggles to balance the immediate survival needs of its population with the preservation of its incredibly rich but fragile ecosystems.

It’s estimated that less than 10% of Madagascar’s original primary rainforests remain intact today. The devastation of these forests is heartbreaking because Madagascar is home to some of the most unique ecosystems on the planet. Around 90% of the species here are endemic, meaning they exist nowhere else in the world. The ongoing destruction of these rainforests means the loss of critical habitats for lemurs, chameleons, rare plant life, and so much more.

Just last night, we hiked through the rainforest, headlamps guiding our way, and I encountered three lemur species: the Common Brown Lemur, the Woolly Lemur, and the Mouse Lemur. Today, the goal is to spot the Indri, a rare and majestic lemur species. It was a privilege and a genuine joy to see these creatures in their natural habitat, along with several species of chameleons and geckos. The trees, the ferns, and the flowers were breathtakingly beautiful.

But as I sit here, staring into a eucalyptus plantation, reflecting on my 36 hours in Madagascar, I’ve come to accept that it’s okay not to feel pure joy. Instead, I feel a deep gratitude for the chance to witness the remaining wonders of Madagascar’s flora and fauna. Yet, I’m also filled with a profound sadness for the state of the world—the destruction, the extreme gap between rich and poor, and the shame tied to how recklessly and insensitively we live in the developed world. There’s a sense of grief, loss, and even powerlessness to effect meaningful change. While I know we all have the power to make a difference, it’s hard to measure the impact of individual actions in the face of such large-scale devastation.

In the next two weeks here in Madagascar, I’ve decided to embrace these emotions. I won’t deny the sadness or grief, but I’ll also strive to live in the present moment, free from the chains of comparison. I’m choosing to sit with the discomfort and honour the complexities of what I’m experiencing.

With that in mind, I’ve renamed my Instagram account to @malagasy_emotion. Because, for me, this journey is not just about joy—it’s about connecting with the full spectrum of emotions that travel, and especially travel to places like Madagascar, can evoke.

How does this feel to you? Balancing one’s emotional confrontation with a sense of mindfulness isn’t always easy. It is possible to experience both sadness and gratitude while still allowing space for the present moment to unfold.