Madagascar Afremail Part 5 - Scrrrap Dealers
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So I met this awesome chill Indian guy (named Vishalo) on the train a week ago. It was 10 hour ride so I really go to know him. It started with, "so, what do you do?" and he goes with a heavy Indian accent, but perfect English (of course), "I deal in scrrrap metal". He is a vegetarian, is 29, married, 3 kids, loves Rajasthan, wants to live in Mauritius for a few years, is very traditional when it comes to the motherland (India), imports at least 2 tons of rice a month to Madagascar for a profit of $1,500 USD per container, exports SCRRRAP to India, at least 20 containers a month 22 tons a container, and then imports fishhooks, door hinges, etc, crap made from the metal back to the country that he has exported the scrrrap from. He works with 5 brothers, he is the leader and he sends them on scouting missions across the country. they harvest scrrrap for about 5 months per country, but Madagascar is particularly lucrative and has lived here for 2 years with his brothers (actually 1 brother and 3 cousins, but I didn't learn this until RAJ, the real brother I met today told me). They all speak perfect Malagasy and French, and RAJ speaks perfect English, along with Vishalo, the oldest guy.

So, why is this interesting? I met Vishalo coincidentally on a train, spoke with him for at least 9 hours and then said good bye. We got on quite well, so well, that he invited us to his house, after deciding taking us out to the only Indian restaurant worth a damn in Madagascar wasn't good enough for our new found friendship. He said to me, that his wife is such a good cook and that he loves here very much, so much that if all he has is only "1 chapatti, I must give her half" drawing a line dividing his hand as if it were a chapatti (for emphasis). That was over a week ago. I won't be able to make it to his house because he is going to India for a family thing on the 15 of March and we will get there no earlier than the 20. I felt really bad, as I told him I would make it, not realizing when we would make it back to the capital.

So, I forgot about it. Today, I am on a cramped, sweaty taxi-broosh (bus) sitting next to a cool looking Pakistani/ Indian dude. He is looking pretty sharp with a Chicago Bulls hat, Bulls shirts (a nice Jordan button down), and jeans; with a cell phone. Politely we say hello and exchange names. 2 hours later, we stop for breakfast (its 8AM). I get bread with butter and he indicates he is vegetarian and gets some cookies. So, standing there, waiting for our taxi to load and leave again, on the edge of the taxi stand, it's muddy, there are shady Asian gem dealings wearing skirts (traditional Muslim dress for men, but this is the first place we see Muslims in Madagascar) and ratty dogs. I say to him, "so, what do you do?"

"We are dealing with scrrrap metal."

"Really. Do you have a brother named Vishalo?"

"Yes, how do you know?"

"Are you Raj, the brother who lives in Tulear (where we were going)?"

"No, I am Jimmy (remember he told me already, but I thought maybe it was a nickname). I am going to see Raj today. How do you know his name?"

Then, I met Raj, the real brother; even though they all say there are brothers, and he looks just like Vishalo. It was cool. He is just as nice and is hooking us up left and right with a phone call to Ngozi, awesome vegetarian food, and wants to go to the club Zaza tonight. A club described in a guide book as "you have not been to Madagascar until you have been to Zaza"

Anyway, hope you enjoyed that. I thought it was funny, especially since every time Raj would start a sentence about the scrrrap business and the logistics of it, I would finish it. He loved that and has invited me to his wedding in Rajasthan, somewhere that hey never stop talking about how awesome it is and how if I came, I would never look at another party the same way again. From his descriptions, I am there, 2007 baby! Promised him that I had to bring my wife and he was totally pumped about that. I have pictures of 3 brothers; I need to find the rest.