There’s a number of things that scare Malagasy people: dogs, thunderstorms, cattle thieves and evil witches, to name a few.

But nothing here is as terrifying as a rainy season with little rain.

At this time last year, folks had already been planting rice seedlings for over a week; many started near Christmas, a normal start time here.

But more than two weeks past the holiday, there’s no sign anyone will be able to plant anything anytime soon.

The rice paddies are dry, the river is low, and the first fruit harvests of the season have been poor. In a time when the landscape usually comes alive with bright green hues, most of what I see is barren fields, dry grasses, and hard-packed earth.

The vast majority of people here rely on agriculture as their primary source of income and sustenance. When the rains don’t come, people don’t eat. But there’s more to it than that.

Folks in my community are already struggling to feed their families. They have been for months.

Some who have groundwater-fed or stream-fed rice paddies are enjoying a small reprieve now after harvesting some rice in December. But nearly all of the rice fields here are directly dependent on rain.

When rice prices skyrocket, folks here begin eating cassava and sweet potatoes more often; both grow well in dry conditions. But as demand rises, so too do the prices.

Most days, I check the weather forecast on my phone looking for signs of rain. Rarely do I find any evidence of it.

The worst part is knowing that even if we do get a rainstorm, it’s unlikely to be enough. We’ll need several storms before the rice paddies flood.

Madagascar is predicted to be one of the countries most affected by climate change, despite having one of the lowest carbon emissions per capita in the world. In fact, Madagascar is one of only a few countries that absorbs more carbon emissions than it emits.

Already, scientists and lay people have observed that the rainy seasons here are, on average, becoming shorter and drier, and prolonged droughts are occurring more frequently.

As recently as 30 years ago, people in my area were able to get two solid rice harvests during the rainy season, I’m told. These days, they’re lucky to get one.

On the east coast, the opposite is true. Cyclones are becoming stronger and more frequent, devastating communities and crops. They have too much rain, while we never seem to have enough.

These changes threaten not only the livelihood of the Malagasy people, but also the island’s unique ecosystems. As temperatures rise and rain patterns change, fragile species already pushed to the brink by human development are increasingly facing extinction.

But that’s not what I’m thinking about now. I’m thinking of my young friend Sarobidy and her 1-year-old daughter, who’s already far behind the growth curve. I’m thinking of my host dad’s family, who planted a field of beans in December that never grew.

I’m even thinking of my job here as a Peace Corps volunteer and the futility of encouraging people to eat a diverse diet and grow vegetables when there is neither the money nor the water to do so.

No matter what happens, I’ll be fine. I have enough money to buy food no matter the price, and my host dad assures me that our pumps won’t run dry.

But the same can’t be said for the thousands of people in my community who rely on simple dug wells for their water. Whether now or during the dry season, without enough rain, those sources will run dry, causing people to travel farther for water or switch to polluted surface water.

Without ample water, those who rely on income from livestock will also suffer. Pigs especially need large quantities of water, and without it, they’re liable to grow sick and die.

Everyone I talk to here tells me they’re scared, even those who are lucky to have a job and steady income. It just can’t be overstated how important the rainy season is for people here.

A dry rainy season can even lead to more children dropping out of school, or never starting at all. When the rice harvest is poor, it becomes that much more difficult to justify paying kids’ school fees, which are largely based on rice.

The amount of rice necessary for parents to enroll their children in my local elementary school for a year is roughly enough to feed a family of 10 for a week. The fees for the middle and high school here are much higher.

There is little folks here can do to lessen the blow. My host dad says the best thing to do would be to stock up on rice and other essentials, but how can people do that when most are struggling to feed their families day to day? More likely, many will start skipping meals, if they haven’t been doing so already, to save money and food.

I’m not sure how bad this year is compared to previous years; if historical precipitation data for my area exists, I don’t have access to it. But I get the sense we could be looking at a year for the record books if it doesn’t start raining soon.

I’m told that late starts to the rice growing season are becoming increasingly common here. But I’m holding out hope we’ll see some rain soon. I’m scared to think about what will happen if it doesn’t.

A reader asked:

It’s easy to assume that the core values of the Malagasy people are similar to those of us here, despite the differences in our economies and other things. They love their families, want to secure for them safety, food, housing and education whenever possible, care about their neighbors, appreciate the value of working together, and love their downtime and a good laugh. Is that true, and do they have any core values that have surprised you? – Anonymous in Auburn

Great question! As you guessed, many of the core values here are similar. Often the difference lies in how people act on those beliefs. Family is by far the most important thing for people here, even above work. When a baby is sick and needs an expensive surgery, the entire extended family can be expected to pitch in. When a man dies, the family of his oldest son’s wife is expected to provide a cow to slaughter for the funeral; despite the extreme financial hardship this tradition and others like it bring, it continues because doing anything else would be unthinkable. Perhaps the biggest difference in core values I’ve seen here relates to gender equality. Men and women have relatively strict roles regarding housework and farming, and while I don’t get the sense anyone is barred from engaging in activities of the other gender, I rarely see it happen. During a discussion about gender equality in a Peace Corps training, one volunteer’s male counterpart loudly complained that the fight for women’s rights has gone too far, commenting about how unfair it was that the local bar was reserved for women only on International Women’s Day. As for another humorous example, my counterpart, a women, commented that boys should get more money when they attend parties because it would be sad if they looked poor in front of girls.

Have a question? Send it to [email protected] or by snail mail to the Sun Journal at 64 Lisbon St., Suite 201, Lewiston, ME 04240.

On a personal note:

In November’s column I wrote about Aro, the 10-year-old deaf girl who lives near me. I’m thrilled to share that she will begin studying at the Fianarantsoa School for the Deaf (SEMAFI) on Monday. While she was in third grade at her previous school, she’ll enter the first grade class at SEMAFI to learn foundational skills, including Malagasy Sign Language. Additionally, Aro’s parents recently told me that both they and her teacher have noticed a difference in Aro’s hearing while she’s wearing the hearing aids. It seems like it’s simply taken time for her ears to adjust to the devices. Of all the things I’ve worked on here in Madagascar, this feels like my biggest victory by far. A year ago, her parents were firmly against her leaving home to attend a boarding school. Now, I’m hopeful this is just the first step in a long, successful educational journey. Major shout-out to Patricia Gautier and her 16 friends for pooling their money to cover Aro’s school expenses; she wouldn’t be able to attend SEMAFI otherwise!

Vanessa Paolella is a Peace Corps volunteer in Madagascar, as well as a former award-winning staff writer for the Sun Journal and a Bates College graduate. The views expressed in this column are hers alone and do not reflect the views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the Madagascar government.