Red earth that is kneaded in the hands of those who live there and is made of bricks, stands up to make a house, that spreads out to welcome rice fields as far as the eye can see and that is shaped by those who cultivate it. This same land is home to the thousands of Moringa Oleifera plants that, after a month now, I am learning to know and which today open their leaves at the beginning of the rainy season. The plant is rustic but docile, tirelessly reproducing its foliage that we collect and dry: it is destined for the nutritional center, where its precious and rich content does justice to the fatigue of the hands and the spades.
I also learn to know those who take care of the plant, who here call Ananambo Otto smiles that welcomed me as a stranger and funny in my illiteracy, but immediately giving me the desire to jump into the project and understand together. Needless to deny it, the Malagasy language is not easily mastered and it will take some time before it can be told.
In the meantime, however, he goes around the barrier working shoulder to shoulder, sitting together, getting closer to the earth, the same.
