May/June 2024

In Madagascar, a poor boy seeks music and magic for his village A long time ago, a poor boy named Alex lived in a village in Madagascar. His days were filled with boredom, as there was no music where he lived. His life was limited within the boundaries of the village. Only the local storyteller, Mr. Loan, would occupy Alex and the other children with his continuous legends. Every day, his mother would send him to the market to buy fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds. The sellers from other towns arrived with various musical instruments, but none of the villagers could afford to buy them. One day, as Alex was hiking back from the market, he overheard Mr. Loan telling the children about a harp, gravely: “According to the ancient scripts, a magical harp with the sweetest music of all lies in the beautiful forest of Ambato Atsinanana. If the harp thinks that you have a kind and bold heart, it can develop a kind of bond. You will be able to command it to do anything as long as it only results in something good. Only one who is brave and intelligent can return with it.” At this point Alex dropped all his baskets and raced to Mr. Loan’s story circle in excitement. “A musical instrument, you say! How do I get to Ambato Atsinanana?” he asked eagerly. Mr. Loan glared at him. “It is too risky for a young twelve-year-old boy to recover it! However, I trust you to be very cautious about this as it will be a very dangerous journey.” “Tell me! Pray tell me!” the curious boy pleaded, jumping up and down. Mr. Loan sighed. “All right! Calm down! I will give you a map.” Mr. Loan handed him a little carving drawn on a piece of wood with an X at the end. The magical harp must lie there, Alex thought. He quickly piled up his goods in his baskets. Grasping the map with one hand, he hurried home. “Careful!” Mr. Loan called. “Do not go on this adventure without older company. It will be a treacherous undertaking!” But he was already out of earshot. Early morning the next day, when the sky was still dark and everyone was sleeping soundly, Alex stepped stealthily out of the house. He glanced at the precious wood carving. It would be quite a trek to even reach the entrance of Ambato Atsinanana! So, he hiked through the farms and trekked through the corn mazes. Vines curled in every direction. Leaves in all shades of green covered the treetops. Finally, after two exhausting hours of tromping through boggy marshes, just as he thought he would never reach the legendary Ambato Atsinanana, he smelled a pleasant aroma of lavender, fresh leaves, and sweet orchids. Enchanted by the heavenly fragrance, he stumbled into the dazzling entrance of Ambato Atsinanana. Vines curled in every direction. Leaves in all shades of green covered the treetops. The branches seemed to form a maze, cutting through the trail. And most beautiful of all, flowers in pink, purple, yellow, orange, red, and more amazing colors dominated every gap of the entrance to the beautiful forest. Alex was amazed with the beauty of Ambato Atsinanana. Even if Mr. Loan’s legend was not real, he would still have thanked him for giving him the thrill of this adventure. Though the forest looked magnificent, Mr. Loan had warned of dangers. Alex, the harp seeker, was bright enough to know that he should listen to the old storyteller. After all, Mr. Loan was the oldest and had more experience than anyone else in the village! As the sun began to rise, Alex began his journey in search of the magical harp. As Alex tromped through the crunching leaves, he kept stopping at least once every ten minutes to check the map. After hours of continuous hiking, he finally reached a fast-flowing river with at least ten branches of water. There were some rocks, but they looked very slippery. How do I cross this river? he contemplated. It looks powerful, like it can sweep anyone away from this very spot. He remembered Mr. Loan’s words that finding the harp would need intelligence and courage. He checked Mr. Loan’s wood carving. This was definitely the first landmark marked on the map. He sat down and thought about accessible materials until an idea struck him like a thunderbolt! It must work, or he could be sent flailing downstream. Alex had brought a very thin and short rope with him. He started breaking vines with a small pocketknife and twisted and turned them around it, connecting them just like his grandma had taught him. It was just about long enough to reach the other side of the river. He made a loop at one end that was big enough to attach to a rock. It took him a few tries, but soon he managed to hook it to a granite stone at the other end. Slowly and hesitantly, he began to walk on the slippery rocks, holding on to the rope, praying it wouldn’t detach from the rock. He slipped a few times, but each time he slipped, he managed to hold on to it. Fifteen minutes later, he reached the other side successfully. He wearily grabbed it from the rock and untied it. Stuffing it in his backpack, Alex gathered some clean leaves from the tall maple trees and created a bed. He lay down, preparing for a good afternoon nap. *          *          * When Alex woke up, the sun was high in the sky, reflecting off the thick canopy. “I must have slept for hours,” he muttered. As he was stretching, he heard a loud rumbling noise and jumped. The noise seemed to be coming from his belly! He hadn’t eaten since early morning when he had been able to steal some fruits from his mom’s cupboard. As the twelve-year-old boy was