Madagascar - Photos to come when laptops are a thing.

Despite being at full capacity, when the courts decided to send 17 new girls the doors were open wide - wide enough to fit 17 mattresses through, as the living room gave way to the new dorm room conversion. This is a perfect example of the welcoming family atmosphere at Iris Madagascar. Eager to get involved, Maria and I baked banana cake for everyone at the welcome party. With her 100% baking success rate and my 100% baking failure rate, I can confidently conclude that all of our baking complications were entirely her fault. No one's perfect.

The base is now home to 103 children, ranging from the ages of four months to eighteen years. On top of this the centre also provides:

- A lunch program for around 200 local children three times a week.

- A weekly milk feeding program for new mothers.

- A community program giving out rice and funding for education to struggling families.      

-A ministry to the children living at the rubbish dump, complete with doctor and medical assistant.

All of this whilst running one of the most successful home school programs this side of Ferris Beuller. 

When striving to meet every physical need in the area by all means humanly possible isn't enough, faith steps in to bridge the gap. Just the week before I arrived, a blind woman and her son came to the centre looking for medical care. With the doctor away, Julio offered an even better solution - prayer for complete healing. She left with fully restored vision and a grin on her face, enjoying the beauty of a son she hadn't laid eyes on in years. Miracles happen. 

For the last ten days of my stay I abandoned the visitor's centre. The guard's loyal pet rooster manned the gate, whilst he fashioned my suitcase as a hat up the hill to Caroline's house - I guess wheeled bags aren't in this season. 

Life with Caroline and her two year old daughter Esti is how I imagine the existence of an off-duty Disney princess. Even in the power cuts when the storm 'raged on' the musical show did not falter. And to think, I hadn't even seen Frozen before I lived the sound track that week. 

Keeping the balance in my sanity was her 13 year old son Andry. His schooling in the ways of Dragonball - Z enabled the student to briefly become the master in the realms of PlayStation on my final night. (I beat him once).

Throughout my time in Madagascar I had the honour of tutoring 17 year old Sarobidy. This kid is incredible. For the first few days we followed the course of his school books, spending our afternoons pausing and puzzling over trivial grammar points. I apologised on behalf of the rebellious nature of the rule defiant English language, before requesting that we diverge from the book in favour of more engaging methods. He agreed. The afternoon that followed was probably the highlight of my trip. That's right - conversation that ranks higher than a selfie with a lemur. Through basic English, doodles and charades I told him a story from my life, challenging him to repeat the tale to practice the new language, such as 'fear', 'cow' and 'crash'. My part over, it was time for him to take centre stage. The following hours were spent in laughter, understanding and borderline tears on my part as he shared accounts of his childhood with me. Whether what he told me that day was true or false I neither know nor care - this kid is an inspiration and a constant reminder that there's a plan at work in all of our lives. 

This is just one example of the 103 awe inspiring children on that base! I had so much fun playing with them each day, I love every single one of them!

Before I went to Madagascar the only insight I had lead me to anticipate an island run by musical lemurs and militarised penguins. And that's exactly what I found.

Joking aside, Madagascar rarely makes our news in the west, but the truth is that horrendous cases of organ trafficking is on the rise. During my time there six children were taken from a local school, tragically their bodies were found a few days later - organs removed. The threats drew closer to home when an desperate and enraged woman from the surrounding village burst into the centre, screaming at the children and threatening to come back for their hearts that night. She was dragged to the village chief and taken away, not before hurling more abuse and even biting Caroline. 

As is to be expected, emotions were high after this. When rumours of more threats reached the base the next day everyone was quick to react. I was on my way back from the girl's house when Andry came flying down the hill past me, a huge kitchen knife in his hand. I shouted him over, making some idol quip about running with scissors - he let the awkwardness slide and blurted out a panicked report of a planned attack the boys centre before running off to find his mum. Within minutes we were busy moving and carrying all 103 children across the village to the safety of the missionary's houses. 

Fortunately nothing came of the new threats, and the village chief agreed to have police walk by the centre at intervals that night. When it comes to the lives of these kids every precaution is worth taking. Unfortunately security costs money and extra guards are a further expense, but we have faith in a greater  protection.

Nothing can break the spirits here and my send off was one fit for a PHD. Best goodbye EVER!! Thank you Iris Madagascar, I miss you!