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September 21, 2008, DagoTiako was born. One week before, Joan from FOKO had contacted us, guys from ICE Club. She talked about FOKO project which is to promote citizen media in Madagascar by sensitizing people to create blogs. As you can read on my introduction in “About” page, I’ve always dreamt of becoming a journalist and a photograph. I immediately fell in love with this FOKO project.
September 21,2008, DagoMC, Moonlightgirl, Fara, Moma, Tahina, Andry and I were then invited to join the workshop led by David Sasaki and Joan who showed us the way to create a blog. And today, I am thankful to Joan, David Sasaki, Lova, Tahina, Andry, and all FOKO.
September 21, 2009. What have I realized???
The craziest moment was during the crisis on January – February – March 2009. Listening to the radio on my phone to check the news. Going to the rallies, taking pics and recording the speeches of leaders of each team (TGV in the Place du 13 Mai and TIM in Mahamasina and Ambohijatovo). It was so exciting to be among the professional journalits and see what they do and try to copy on them. It was so great to be able to take pics of wellknown politicians. It was so wonderful to talk about the events and to have the “world” following your posts. It was just mad to spend 3 hours a day… late… I mean VERY LATE in a cybercafé just because I felt the need of sharing. But the greatest feeling is that thanks to my blog, I do EXIST now in this world. I just googled my nickname “ariniaina” and… wow… I can’t find the word to express my feeling… kind of proud… but that’s not humble at all 
… Like few weeks ago I discovered an article which talks about me and blogging… I have to admit that I felt so happy…
I’ve been interviewed by a journalist from Wall Street journal about twitter and the crisis of Madagascar. I remember, the day of the massacre in Ambohitsirohitra. My husband (well… my fiancé at that time 
) and I decided to co-work. He went on the “battlefield” and let his phone on so I could hear all the speeches and plans and then tweeted them. It was a great team work… Well, but now that I’m thinking of it, it was just so crazy and risky.
One more crazy thing, I’ve burnt my skin by sitting under the sunshine just to wait for Andry Rajoelina’s speech. I tell you, a whole week it hurted.
One thing that I call success and I’m so proud of is my friend Lay Andriamialy who has become addicted to this blogging because of me. In fact, everyday, I had nothing to do but talking about blog, blog, my blog, twitter… and on February we wanted to teach someone we love to blog so I’ve chosen this friend. The funny thing is that, now it’s his turn to talk about blog, blog, blog, his blog… lol
DagoTiako has now one year old… too young to die… so I’ll keep on 
One Sunday, my family and I wanted to have a little picnic outside Tana. We were not sure of where to go but finally decided to take the National Road #3 wich goes to the North part of Antananarivo and leads to Anjozorobe. We stopped by Talatamaty to buy some “koba” which are really famous and delicious . Well, people also stop by for buying sausages but we were not in for them on that day.
A few kilometers from there, we were attracted by a crowd so decided to park the car and join this crowd. Wow, in fact they were watching cockfights.
My sister and I were so happy ‘cuz this made us remember our childhood. My father used to love cockfights. He had two or three roosters that he feeded and trained everyday. It was a real passion. My sister and I used to come with our father every sunday afternoon for “his” cockfights.
I was so impressed. The cockfights still took place on sunday afternoon and wow, even the rules did not change apart from the amount of the placing .
The first rules are for the cockfighters owners. The organizers choose by toss whose rooster will start the fight and its opponent. After the fight, the winner will get a prize (money).
How to define the winner? The two cocks are put in the middle, the public stand around in a circle. The cocks start to fight. The one that will run away and give up the fight will loose the game.
Meanwhile, the public do not just watch the fight. They also gamble. They decide between them the amount of the placing and then support the rooster that they believe will win.
Ahhhhhhh, sweet memories! I think, I will come back and watch these cockfights again some sunday afternoon just like when I was a kid.
To start with, English speaking countries and French ones don’t celebrate Mother’s day on the same day. This year, Francophone countries, like Madagascar, celebrates it on Sunday June 7th.
This Mother’s day is the sadest in my life cuz it’s the first one I don’t have my lovely Mom beside me and I especially miss her so much. If she was there, I am sure that the 3 of us would make a great surprise for her aswe used to but she’s not here.
No more tears. Mom taught us to be always happy and strong whatever may happen in our life.
I was with friends hanging out downtown this saturday and it was really hard to cross the wall of people who were trying to find the best gift for their mothers.The sidewalks were completely crowded of sellers and, of course, Mother’s gifts buyers .When everyone turned their eyes on what the people we met had bought (flowers, paintings, bags, sandals, sweaters, …), I was attracted by another business, afterall all festivities turn around business and marketing nowadays (Valentine’s day, Christmas, and stuff). There were a lot of people who got this idea: wrapping gift. They knew that a lot of customers will need such service after choosing a gift. They were ready with some boxes already nicely wrapped with different colors and sizes. And this part time job got success. The time I took the pics, it was already 7.00 p.m.
Wednesday, May,27 2009, 4.00 a.m., the alarm clock rings. Amazingly, I could wake up right away. Because the alarm clock was not for my work, it was for a trip to Antsirabe .
4.30 a.m., the cab is already waiting for Andry and I. Yeah, a start of adventure.
4.47 a.m., the cab driver told us that instead of going to the “Taxi-Brousse” station at Fasan’ny Karana, it is better to take it in Anosy. It sounded great so we stopped at the roundabout of Anosy. A guy came to us and asked if we wanted to go to Antsirabe. We said yes, and then followed the guy. After a bargain, we got the seats next to the driver.
5.00 a.m., the van was not full yet but the driver was ready to leave when the conductor noticed cops. The driver tried to hide the van behind 2 big trucks. Then, Andry and I understood. This van had broken the rule of its “cooperative” (association/ union of transporters) [It is mandatory to be part of a cooperative]. The driver went out to check if the way is clear. Meanwhile, the conductor explained to us, passengers, that they are doing so to avoid to pay too much money to the “cooperative”. He explained that they almost gain nothing because the main part goes directly to the responsibles of the “cooperative”. He even said, that it is sad that he and the driver cannot afford to buy a new van with the money they can get though, the people at the “cooperative” can buy 1 or 2 vans. Franckly speaking, I sympathize with the driver and the conductor.
The passengers all agreed with this sytem. Regular passengers said that taking the bus in Anosy is safer and faster than at the station in Fasan’ny Karana. When the first van in Anosy leaves at 5.00a.m., in Fasan’ny Karana it will be at 6.00 a.m. and only if all the seats are taken.
While waiting for the driver to come back, another man arrived with 3 more passengers and 2 others a few minutes later. Wow, the team work impressed me a lot.
5.15 a.m., the real trip starts
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