The Magicians

There’s a book by Thomas Erikson called Surrounded by Idiots. I don’t know if he’s right. What I do know is that I’ve had the good fortune to work with magicians — not the kind who make difficulties disappear, but the kind whose formula is simpler: making things work.

Eddy and the Art of Seeing

It started with something as small as a photograph. In reality, we had very few truly usable mission photos — to an untrained eye they looked fine, but they weren’t quite good enough to tell the story of our work.

Eddy, our IT and multimedia technician, showed us a few of his secrets: a couple of principles, a different way of looking at a scene, and suddenly you can do far more with whatever camera you have on hand. A magician never reveals his tricks, but Eddy agreed to share a few of his. Above all, he showed us this: excellence doesn’t depend on the resources you have, but on how well you use them.

Eddy, the photographer

Mirana’s Talent on the Phone

Then there’s Mirana, our negotiation expert. During a mission to Mandoto, I was given a room infested with bedbugs — by morning, my body carried the evidence. For every mission after that, we looked for better hotels that still fit our budget. In parts of Madagascar, those two things don’t always go together. Mirana picked up the phone. A few calls later, she’d secured a discount of more than 30%.

Her phone works just as well on local authorities. During our first mission to Miandrivazo, the district chief arrived before our team, early in the morning, to make sure our training rooms were ready — free of charge. He insisted on officially opening the session himself. In Betafo, where we hadn’t even made a courtesy visit beforehand, the local contact turned out to be just as effective.

There’s no real magic in any of this, of course. There’s natural ability, persuasive skills and a great deal of hard work — plus a few secrets Mirana keeps to herself. But from our side of the phone, it looks remarkably like magic.

Mirana on the phone

Ny Ony: Knowing What’s Needed

Some find solutions. Others simply know when to step in.

During a training session with police officers, the Regional Director of Public Safety in Ambatondrazaka — the highest-ranking officer in the region — opened the session himself. As the oldest member of our team, I was expected to respond. Official speeches aren’t exactly my strong suit, and Ny Ony seemed to know it. He stepped in and spoke on my behalf, and just like that, the matter was settled.

Perhaps this is the talent I value most: knowing what a colleague needs, sometimes before they even ask.

Ny Ony, speaking

Keeping the Energy Alive

Coming Home

After a mission, there’s one more thing we look forward to: Mamitiana’s cooking. We usually make it back to headquarters on a day she’s cooking for everyone — and that timing never gets old.

It’s not just about the food. It’s the sense of togetherness that finally lets us breathe. Suddenly the fatigue doesn’t feel so heavy.

Mamitiana and her creation

Trust at the Heart of It All

If there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I trust my fellow trainers completely. They’re at the heart of every mission, and I entrust them with the essential part of our work.

That trust isn’t just a feeling — feedback from participants and organizers rarely includes complaints about them. But beyond the evaluations, there’s something more important: knowing you can rely on someone. Perhaps that’s the finest magic formula of all.

Medical team

Of course, there are many more talents — all those who prepare, organize, coordinate, anticipate, check, facilitate, and work behind the scenes to make sure everything runs smoothly.

Turning Difficulty into Story

Sometimes it isn’t even about finding a solution — it’s about turning a difficulty into a memory.

One mission in the bush took us roughly 120 kilometres by motorcycle taxi, through rain, a slippery dirt road and stretches covered with large rocks. Our drivers seemed to have their own personal understanding of speed. After a few good knocks to the lower back, I finally asked them to stop so I could remind them of some safety rules. At the time, I didn’t find it funny at all. By the time we got back from the mission, it had become one of the team’s favourite jokes. Ny Ony, who’d lived through the exact same thing beside me, just hadn’t expected me to react quite like that.

The difficulty had become a memory. The memory had become a story. And the story had become shared laughter.

That’s the strength of our team: we don’t make difficulties disappear — we transform them. A problem becomes a solution, an individual skill becomes a shared resource, a hard moment becomes a memory, a long journey becomes a story, and fatigue becomes togetherness.

When a mission seems to have gone like clockwork, I know by now it’s never that simple. Behind that ease, there’s always someone who found a solution, stepped in, made a call, negotiated, drove, trained, cooked, organized, came up with an idea, or simply made people laugh. That’s the kind of magic I see in our team.

The Warriors’ Rest

On a journey home, after the training sessions, the heat, and everything the mission has demanded, our trainers often fall asleep on the way back.

Trainers asleep on the way back

Maybe that’s the greatest privilege of working with magicians — not knowing that everything will be easy, or even that it will always go well. But knowing that when difficulties come, I won’t be alone. Someone will step in. Someone will find a solution. Someone will make the others laugh. Someone will keep watch.

Working with people like this means knowing that, whatever comes our way, we will find a way through.

Tsito, Doctor and First Aid Instructor