Unusual Destinations Blog

In a similar vein to Mexico’s Festival of the Dead, the bone turning ceremonies in Madagascar honour the ancestors in a celebration where laughing and weeping are both perfectly normal.

Madagascar: bone turning ceremony

Just south of the capital is the colourful little town of Antsirabe, where the ruling Merina tribe also live. Patric Niaina owns an intricately painted rickshaw there, and ferries locals around in his hand-drawn taxi. But, today he’s taken the day off work and donned his smartest outfit for a trip into the hills just outside of town. It’s a big day for him. His family is holding an auspicious bone-turning ceremony to honour their ancestors, and Patric is not missing it for anything.

With Patric navigating, we wind along well worn sand roads, through the mountains but see absolutely no sign of a ceremony. Then as we round a corner, there is a heaving gathering of people on the hillside. The national flag is being held high and people are milling around energetically. “That’s the famadihana,” says Patric, “it has already started.”

It’s a hot, dusty afternoon, and we arrive to a cacophony of music, singing and raucous revelry. Rice and rum are everywhere, being served from little stalls under rainbow umbrellas. We are quickly enfolded in dust and fresh rum fumes, and are definitely the only sober guests there. But, in a bid to change that, we are quickly handed a bottle of rum for an obligatory swig. It tastes like swallowing razor blades, but this is the traditional brew of Madagascar, and there is no way around it today.

Madagascar: bone turning ritual

The tomb has already been opened and the crowd mills around the entrance, some weeping, others laughing, some seemingly indifferent to the magnitude of the occasion. A family will save for five to 10 years to be able to afford such a ceremony, because it entails mountains of rice and plenty of rum, as well as new shrouds, gifts and the prized zebu cattle that are slaughtered as part of the ritual.

First one skeletal mummy is carried out of the tomb, rolled in a hand-woven grass mat and held high above the surrounding crowd. Then another and another emerges, until five family members are lying side by side on the grass – their heads facing east. Some of the living family draw near to tell the latest news and happenings in the village, others ask for advice, and still others stand in silence and simply watch the proceedings.

Not wanting to impose, we keep moving back in the crowd, but are constantly yanked forwards to be a part of the ceremony and to see exactly what is going on. It’s difficult to hear what is being said, amidst all the singing and chanting, laughing and crying – and liberal swigging of rum from bottles being passed through the crowd. But we respectfully oblige and stand with the family.

Then the mats are gently unrolled by chosen family members, and each mummy is wrapped in a new white shroud to cover the old one. All the time, the family continues talking to their dead ancestors as if they were perfectly alive and part of the party. It is an almost surreal experience for western eyes, but one we will never forget. The Malagasy reverence and respect for their ancestors is deep and real.

Madagascar: wrapping mummies

Patric stands with us, rum in hand and watches as intently as we do. “This is a big day for the family,” he says sipping his neat rum, “and it is very special that you are here. It is a blessing and good luck for us.” Then, an elder places a small gift on the chest of each mummy and inscribes their name on the shroud – in felt tip marker pen. A new straw hat and a photograph of each ancestor are also placed on their chests. In between proceedings, a childless woman tears a tiny piece of shroud to place under her pillow in the hope of bearing children, and another lovingly strokes the skeletal remains of her grandmother.

Then after more rum, and with plenty of dancing and singing, the crowd gives the ancestors a jovial send off – back into the cool tomb. It will be a good few years before the family will host another bone turning ceremony, but they start saving for it immediately.

While the Merina and Betsileo tribes are the only ones to practice bone-turning ceremonies in Madagascar, each of the 18 tribes on the island have rituals to honour the dead. Because, for the Malagasy, death is the most important part of life and the dead have far more power than the living.

With the mummies all safely back in the family tomb, celebrations start winding down. It’s been three days of full throttle revelry for the crowd, and they are growing weary. Rum fumes still permeate the air, as the last guests settle down to enjoy bowls of rice. Patric has settled in with his family and we afford him privacy and head back to Antsirabe. But first, we respectfully thank him for allowing us to attend this personal ritual, and hand him a bottle of rum as a traditional gift. “Thank you,” he says, “the honour was all mine.” And with a rum-soaked smile, he screws off the cap and takes a long swig.

If you’re a wildlife enthusiast and have a ‘bucket list’ of things to see and do before you die, Africa has plenty to offer. In no particular order, here are five wildlife highlights that just have to be seen to be believed.

Dancing Sifakas – Berenty, Madagascar

Madagascar: Dancing Verreaux

Seeing these quirky creatures dance between the trees will give you a full belly laugh, or possibly stun you into bemused silence. Sifakas dancing are truly the most bizarre site I have ever seen; just thinking of it makes me laugh.

Because sifakas’ feet are designed for grasping trees, they can’t walk on flat ground. But sometimes the trees they feed in are too far apart for them to jump, which is their usual practice – so they have to dance across the flat ground between them. It’s a kind of sifaka tango.

These Verreaux’s Sifakas have velvety cream coats and jet black faces with a permanently bemused look on them. Their beady brown eyes always look startled and alert, so just looking at their quizzical faces raises a laugh. Then when they side step, pirouette and continue on their dance, well, it’s just side splitting. They spend as little time as possible on the ground, so the dance is fast, followed by a quick jump onto a tree branch where they carry on feeding – as if nothing ever happened.

Berenty in the south of Madagascar is the easiest place to see the dance. Of course they don’t dance on cue, so you may need to be patient and wait a while. But it will be absolutely worth it.

The Annual Wildebeest Migration – Serengeti, Tanzania

Tanzania: Serengeti Migration

The photographs can never tell the story, and while film footage gives a better idea of the scale of the migration, there are not really words to explain being surrounded by millions of moaning wildebeest mingling with zebra.

It’s like looking at an ant colony on a macro scale. As far as you can see, horizon to horizon, there is nothing but wildebeest. They stand around grunting for hours on end, chase each other playfully and generally are just being wildebeest. Then, when the chief zebra advises the head wildebeest it’s time to move, they all start trotting – pied piper style.

I was in a Land Rover in the middle of the herd, and the sound of a few million hooves on sand is like deafening thunder rolling past. The entire herd seems to think with a single mind, called by the literal green grass on the other side of the Mara River in Kenya.

They run and rest all the way from Serengeti to the Masai Mara, crossing first the Grumeti then the Mara rivers. They leap in faith into the rivers, and by the end of the migration all the crocodiles have full bellies. Some of these crocodiles only eat once a year during the migration, yet they are still the biggest Nile crocodiles in all of Africa.

For me, the migration was overwhelming, breathtaking and a clear demonstration of the triumph of animal instinct and natural selection. During June and July every year, the wildebeest start heading north to Kenya, though the exact dates of departure depend entirely on the chief wildebeest and his zebra advisor.

Endangered Mountain Gorillas – Rwanda

Rwanda: Endangered Mountain Gorilla

Staring into the chocolate brown eyes of a mountain gorilla is like looking into your own soul. There’s a mutual recognition that we are close cousins indeed, maybe too close since mountain gorillas easily contract human diseases. This is why nobody who is ill with a cold or any other condition may trek for gorillas, and why a healthy seven metre distance must be maintained at all times from the gorilla group. If the gorillas move closer, you move back. No food may be eaten while with the gorillas either.

There’s just an hour to spend with them, that’s what’s allowed, but it is an intense hour. I found myself pondering the origin of our species and how all life is really interlinked. How we could be so similar yet so different, and how we presume humans are so superior. I felt I needed to apologise to the gorillas for human behaviour.

I saw the Sabinyo group, but there are a handful of groups habituated to humans. Then there are additional study groups that only researchers from the Karisoke Research Institute have access to. Still, every time a gorilla is born, it’s named and celebrated. And every time one is lost to the bush meat or exotic pet trade, there is despair because there are so few. Just about 250 remain on earth. And since mountain gorillas don’t survive in captivity, supporting their conservation by seeing them in the wild is their only real hope.

Africa’s only Wolf – Ethiopia

They’re elusive and beautiful and live in tiny pockets across Ethiopia, so seeing Africa’s only true wolf gliding across a mountain top is spectacular. Uniquely, Ethiopian wolves do not require an early morning wake-up call to see them. They only get going when the sun is up and the high altitude plateau they live on warms up a bit. As it gets warmer the giant mole rats come out, and so do the wolves – to catch one for breakfast.

Ethiopia: Ethiopian Wolf

In their habitat in the Bale Mountains National Park, the air is raspingly thin, so I was pleased that no physical effort was needed to see them. I drove up onto the 4 000m plateau in a Landcruiser, much like a game drive. After just a half hour of driving I spotted my first lone wolf, its burnt orange coat swiftly sailing across the scubby grey bushes. Then a pounce and he had his first mole rat, which he carried off to enjoy in peace.

It’s a 400km, full day, uber-bumpy drive to get from Addis Ababa to Goba near the base of the Sanetti Plateau, for a wolf visit the following morning. Then it’s a full day’s drive back again. But seeing these highly endangered creatures was well worth the effort. Just to see a wolf in Africa is a unique experience, and a slightly bizarre I thought.

Swimming with Dolphins – Zanzibar

Somehow swimming with dolphins perfectly complements the romance of Zanzibar. Swimming with sharks there just wouldn’t hold the same appeal.

Zanzibar: Kizimkazi dolphins swimming

I went out from Kizimkazi on the east coast, on a boat skippered by a Rastafarian. Boats are basic, possibly with a sunshade, but don’t expect cocktails or canapés on board. The skipper cruised around the dolphin territory until he spotted one, then I baled overboard with mask and snorkel issued, and swam. A helping hand will pull you back onto the boat again.

Of course, it’s entirely the choice of the dolphins if they want to hang around and play. Sometimes they do, sometimes they are just passing through. But I now know why dolphin therapy is successful and can even assist in curing illness. What tranquil, exquisite animals they are, with personalities of their own and a seemingly deep understanding of the human condition. Even if you just have two minutes in the water with them as they pass by, it’s an experience I will never forget.