When my host sister, Tahiry, and I boarded the plane and took our seats at Ivato International Airport in Madagascar last month, I could see her anticipation grow.

Like virtually every other teenager in Madagascar, Tahiry had never traveled by plane, nor had she ever left the country. After six months of planning and preparing for this trip, everything was finally coming together.

As the plane moved to the runway, accelerated and lifted off, Tahiry must have pinched herself a half-dozen times in excited disbelief. She even made me pinch her, too. 

We were on our way to Youth Journalism International’s global conference in Cape Town, South Africa, where we would spend a week and a half sightseeing, writing and learning about journalism, along with more than a dozen students from around the world.

It was an incredible opportunity. Most people in Madagascar dream of traveling abroad and seeing the outside world, but few ever do. Not only is the process prohibitively expensive, it can be difficult for Malagasy citizens to obtain visas, especially to the most sought-after destinations such as the United States and Europe.  

But with full financial support from YJI and a stroke of luck – South Africa is one of the few countries where Malagasy citizens can travel visa-free – Tahiry was able to experience for herself a world she had only previously seen in films.

It started in December when Jackie Majerus, YJI’s executive director, asked whether I knew of any young people in Madagascar with an interest in journalism.

The Auburn-based nonprofit mentors and publishes the work of student journalists from across the world, including from various countries in Africa, but never had any come from the island nation of Madagascar in East Africa. 

As it happened, I did: my 18-year-old host sister Tahiry, who dreams of one day becoming a broadcast journalist and reporting the news from far-flung places.

As Tahiry went through YJI’s student orientation, Jackie and I began talking more seriously about whether it might be possible for Tahiry and me to join YJI’s global conference.

The idea was daunting: In order to attend, Tahiry would need to apply for a passport in the capital, Antananarivo, located 16 hours north of our village. Not only was it far, but Peace Corps Madagascar doesn’t allow volunteers to stay in Antananarivo due to safety concerns, with few exceptions; helping someone get a passport doesn’t count.

I could have written an entire column about getting her passport: about how the information online was out of date, about how the office phone number never worked, and about our efforts to get corrected documents from her parents sent by bus. 

None of this would have been an issue on its own, except for my limited number of vacation days and the need to abide by Peace Corps policies. Unable to stay overnight in the city except while passing through, we made a snap decision to spend several days with my first host family two hours outside of the capital while waiting for the corrected documents. 

There’s more to it than that. But we got the passport, and that’s what really matters.

When we passed through customs in South Africa and officially entered the country, I couldn’t believe it. We had worked for months to reach this point, and I was certain something would go wrong.

Traveling to South Africa with Tahiry was one of my favorite experiences in the Peace Corps. For the first time, I was able to bring someone from Madagascar into my world and show them my life back home.

So many things were new to her that day, from the motion-activated faucets in the airport bathrooms to the seat belts on the plane, not to mention navigating the airports. After boarding our connecting flight in Johannesburg and taking off, she was amazed to see the extent of the city lights below. 

Sure, she’d seen some of it before in the movies. But seeing something and experiencing it are two different things.

In Cape Town, we stayed together with the conference leadership team and the other students in a multi-bedroom rental. We visited museums, spoke with local journalists, ate at various restaurants, and traveled around the Cape of Good Hope, near the far southern end of Africa. There, we enjoyed incredible coastal views and saw iconic wildlife like ostriches, baboons and penguins.

On Madagascar’s Independence Day, June 26, Tahiry and I cooked Malagasy food for everyone in celebration. It was one of the only times we ate white rice during the trip, yet another culture shock for Tahiry. Still, I know she loved trying so many new kinds of foods.

One of my favorite memories of the trip was our time at an African restaurant in Cape Town. There, we not only got to try a series of dishes inspired by food across the continent, but we also watched several performances, including a man performing a dance onstage, and got up to dance ourselves.

None of the YJI students knew the dance the man showed us. But Tahiry did; it’s a popular one in Madagascar. So there on the stage at the end of the night, Tahiry helped us learn the moves. Needless to say, she was thrilled and we had a fantastic time.

But her favorite part of the trip, she told me, was seeing the ocean for the first time. In her second article for YJI, written at the conference but still not yet published, she wrote about the joy she felt seeing the ocean. 

As incredible as the trip was, some aspects were certainly a challenge for Tahiry, namely the language. Her knowledge of English is limited, and so it was difficult for her to fully participate in the activities and discussions.

My job at the conference was to translate when necessary and help her participate as much as possible. Google Translate was especially useful for her when communicating with the conference leaders and other students. 

Tahiry is back home in Madagascar and dreaming about traveling abroad again. She brought back a Chromebook, courtesy of YJI, to make it easier for her to write articles and attend their weekly meetings.

I’m hopeful that this trip will inspire her to dream big and work hard in pursuit of her goals. But no matter what, I know we’ll cherish the memories of our time spent in Cape Town with YJI.

To read Tahiry’s upcoming articles from the conference, keep an eye on her author page at youthjournalism.org.

A reader asked: 

What are the profit margins in your host family’s store like? Can your host family live off of it?  — Anonymous, Lewiston

The profit margins for my host family’s store are very, very small. Depending on the item, they make anywhere from 10 cents to less than a penny in profit per unit sold. After purchasing their stock and paying to transport it from Ambalavao each week, there’s not much money left. And, because there’s so many other people selling the same goods in our village, they can’t raise their prices without losing customers. The income from the store helps, but it’s not enough for them to live off of. They also raise pigs and grow tobacco and garlic every year to make money. My host dad also works as a security guard, but it’s been more than two years since he’s received a paycheck.

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:

I’m sitting in the Boston Public Library as I finish writing and editing this column. I landed at Logan International Airport last night, and everything feels so odd and yet so familiar all at once. After spending nearly two years in Madagascar, I’m amazed to see the diversity of the people here in the U.S. and the wealth here in Boston. The buildings are tall, the streets are clean and cars are everywhere.

I keep reminding myself that everyone speaks English, but there’s still a lingering feeling of stress at the thought of trying to ask strangers questions. The time change, too, is throwing me off. I’m so used to doing math to figure out when I can call my family that it’s shocking to realize we’re in the same time zone (Madagascar is 7 hours ahead right now). I’m especially looking forward to visiting Lewiston and seeing my former Sun Journal colleagues early next week. Later this month, I’ll fly back to Madagascar to complete the remaining three months of my Peace Corps Service. It’s hard to believe I’m almost done.

Vanessa Paolella is a Peace Corps volunteer in Madagascar, a former 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.