We’re currently on a 7 day, 1,000 kilometer  road trip from the Southern coast back to the capital city and I have determined that this middle section of the country is like West World.   All the charm and grime of the wild west with some modern conveniences peppered in along the way. [Ed note: vast mesas, large stretches of plains, small villages…]  Our guide has explained the cultural hierarchy still in place: your wealth is determined by the number of zebus you own and guys must present sufficient zebu to a family to marry a daughter.  The roads cannot be traveled at night due to the fear of bandits (no, I did not mishear, although there could be some issue in translation, but the number of times the word “bandit” was used over the past 3 days makes me feel he is confident in the meaning…)  There are frequently cattle rustlers who steal herds of zebu along the route too, so each town has police-but-not-police checkpoints set up to search the buses for fleeing bandits and rustlers en route to plague a new town or village. [Ed. note: I also noticed the constant use of the word bandit. He 100% means bandit. I envision a hat and a kerchief across the face.]

The upside of being in the Old West?  Mining.  Yes, the midlands of Madagascar is rich with gem mines, sapphires to be exact.  And all along this route there are pop up towns built surrounding a new mine to trade gems and export them.  Luckily, they also have a few spots that have set the stones and will sell the Boy a sparkle or two to bribe this girl into a few more long, lemur finding hikes.   [Ed. note: Sri Lankans and Pakistani’s set up shop and buy/sell gems for far cheaper than the might go for on the world market…] Now let’s just hope I can keep them hidden from the bandits for the rest of this drive…