Ohhhhh Madagascar.

Tomorrow marks the two week countdown to Canada. I was just there in March, but it feels like forever.

I've changed some of my travel plans and it's direct to Canada and no stopover in Belgium. It was a heavy hearted decision to make, but in the end, I just need to get home.

I can't wrap my head around the fact that I leave Madagascar on the 14th. And arrrive in Canada on the 14th in the late afternoon. Can't quite understand how I'm flying or waiting in an airport for 28 hours, but because of the 9 hour time difference, it's still all in the same day. My mental capacity continues to exclude the concept of the world time zones and how to convert currency in one's head.

Warning - Those that don't appreciate the bathroom talk can skip the rest of this post.

Keeping with the general Madagascar life, my stomach decided to play a wild card today. I walk around like I'm sooooo adapted to this kind of living, and then I get hit with today. To keep things sort of light on details, I had to make an emergency stop at this dive restaurant for an emergency situation. The bathroom was a tiny, tiny little stall, so small that I couldn't bend my knees and close the door at the same time. So I bent them a tiny bit, so that the door wasn't wide open, and emergencied... only to turn around and see that I have missed the toilet completely. There is no water, no toilet paper, nothing to clean this mess up. Mortified - I threw 10 000 MGA at the waitress and yelled "sick" and "sorry" in Malagasy and ran as fast as I could to the car and told the driver to hit it! I will never show my face in a two block radius of that place.

I'm not sure what brain chromosone I'm missing where I think it's acceptable to write my bathroom activities for the world to see, but hey, I'm just keeping it real.