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The man from the office introduced me and told Jaovola about my hopes to visit the Mikea. Jaovola considers himself a research guide. He began by talking about the Americans he has worked with and what universities they are from. Jaovola suggested that we could leave Friday. We would get together Thursday night and plan our trip. This gave me three days to find a beach resort and relax.

There was a quaint resort just north of Tulear called The Coconut Club. It had several bamboo bungalows with thatched roofs lining the beach. Each bungalow had warm showers and hanging mosquito nets around the bed. There were also three other resorts on the same beach and one can easily walk along the beach between them all. The Coconut Club was run by a British woman. There dive center was run by a South African that offered trips to the coral reef that lies a mile off beach. If you are willing, he will take you to find a school of hammer head sharks that often congregate deep off the outer reef wall.

The locals also provide reef activities. I hired some Malagasy kids to take me out to the reef in their dug-out pirogue. They tied the outrigger and the mast to hull with rope made from strips of bark. We paddled out to our destination, but used the patched-up sail to ride back in. There were also many opportunities on the beach to buy things on the beach. Two little girls stopped me and set down a basket full of shells. “Would you like to buy some shells? Look at this one. Its a very pretty shell. Here is another pretty shell. Do you like it? How about this one, its pretty too.” You never have to search for somebody to sell you something. People will find you on the beach to offer you everything from the boat rides to a traditional dinner in their homes. I opted for the culinary services of The Coconut Club. It easily matched any fine restaurant in the United States. The calamarri and lobster were cooked perfectly. At fifteen dollars a night, The Coconut Club was quite expensive for Madagascar, but a steal by any other terms. Every night offered magnificent bright orange and red sunsets that I watched from the comfort of my bungalow lounge chairs. I just wished I could have stayed longer than three days, but I had to meet Jaovola back in Tulear.

Jaovola arrived at the hotel Thursday night. The hotel was an old two story building with a large courtyard in the middle. The room had a wobbly ceiling fan and a screened door to help keep cool at night. Jaovola and I discussed our plans. He told me that the Mikea trust him. If the Mikea are in their camps and not on gathering expeditions, we should not have a problem meeting with them. We should bring them some tobacco and containers for water as a gift. I had some spare bottled water containers that I could bring along. I created a list of questions that I wanted Jaovola to ask the Mikea. I planned to use my walkman to record these interviews and have a friend back in Ranomafana translate them from Malagasy to English. Jaovola then warned that they may be very shy and timid. If I wanted to record our interviews, I should be careful not to hold the walkman in their face or they will surely withdraw and not respond openly. His body language showed how they might be timmid and withdrawn upon seeing the walkman. I would have to keep my walkman by my side so it won’t be intrusive. We decided that on Friday we would take a taxi-brousse north for ninety miles to Antanimieva. Then we would hire someone with a wagon to take us west for fifteen miles to a Norwegian mission at Vorehe. Saturday we would hike into the forest, return to the mission Sunday, and back to Tulear on Monday. Sounds simple doesn’t it?