ABSTRACT
A pervasive odor enshrouds the streets of Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar-a combination of lead gasoline combustion, burning hardwood (which Malagasy people us cooking), and rotting human defecation. This odor is at first both repugnant and engaging, such a powerful olfactory sensation, even a slight burn in the back of the throat, that one can almost imagine it into being much later. At the muddy taxi-brousse sta tion in Antananarivo, a light early-morning rain was concentrat ing this odor and drizzling it onto the bodies of Malagasy people waiting to spend long cramped hours in travel. One young Mala gasy man had a stringed instrument in one hand. He stood patiently waiting for his ride, unconcerned that droplets of rain were settling on his rather unusual-looking instrument.
