rain!

It's been raining almost every day, and we couldn't be happier. The farms are doing well, and our garden is green and lush--people are really happy, hata sisi ("even us".)
We had a house full of Peace Corps friends for Easter, which was great. In case I haven't mentioned it recently, our house is TINY, and we had 7 of us total, sleeping on every available surface. We cooked lots of delicious food, listened to music, laughed a lot, and enjoyed relaxing together.
Our Peace Corps supervisors were very pleased with our grant proposals for the hiv education days, and we should have no problem getting the funds. Considering this was the first time we ever wrote grants, I think we did pretty well. Tony and I are great planners and organizers, and I'm expecting these projects to go really, really smoothly.
What else? Pipi the kitten is happy and healthy, and I've really grown to love her--I miss her when we're away from home. I'm actually thinking of bringing her back to America with us!
On a personal note, I would like to say a special thank you to everyone who has made the effort to keep in touch with us. I cannot possibly explain how happy it makes us to get emails, letters or text messages from home. This has, without question, been the most difficult experience of our lives, and support from home makes everything a little brighter. It was our choice to attempt something like this, it's been incredibly difficult, but we're happy to be here and our connections with our families and friends make us feel stronger. Asanteni sana, tunawapenda ninyi wote ("thank you all very much, we love you all.")

Yep, I can speak Kiswahili. Can you believe it?

burning question

Why, you may ask, are there no photos on my blog? Because I don't know how to put them there. Once we get a new hard drive for our laptop, Tony claims he will teach me how. While you're waiting, check out his blog--he has lots.

It's POURING rain in Mpwapwa right now, and we are thrilled! I'm hoping this storm makes its way to Kibakwe to give the farms and our garden a little lovin'.

drumroll, please

The results are in: our Women's Day hiv testing event was a BIG success! Our doctors and nurses tested a total of 313 people (WAY more than I thought we would), and 7 turned out to be hiv positive (five female, two male.) 11 secondary students made posters advertising the day, which we posted all over town; over 30 secondary school students sang, danced, and played drums; a group of mamas also sang and played drums, and we all marched together in a big parade, gathering people as we went along, from one end of town to the other. The head doctor, who was our main supporter in organizing this day, hired a dj (who had HUGE speakers) to play music, which attracted tons of curious people. Everyone was very, very pleased with the amount of community interest and involvement, and we are more eager than ever to continue doing hiv-related projects. In fact, we are working on grants to sponsor two hiv education days: one for our town's teachers, so that they can confidently implement hiv education into their teaching, and the other for our town's members of an hiv/aids awareness and outreach group, so that they can confidently educate and support their fellow villagers. Anyway, three disappointments from Women's Day, despite how well it went overall: our counterparts, Zizo and Gilbert, didn't show up to help us, because of family problems; the testers ran out of testing supplies (they didn't expect such a high turnout), so there was a period of 2-3 hours while we waited for more to be brought--did people lose their motivation to be tested because they had to wait??; and finally, not a surprise, the majority of teenagers that I spoke with that day refused to be tested because they were scared to learn the results. As one young guy told me, "I am afraid to test because if I learn today that I have hiv, this is the last day of my life." This will be our biggest obstacle, truthfully: helping people overcome their fear of learning their hiv status. By and large, most people in our town (maybe in Tanzania??) just don't want to know. This is why we have an AIDS epidemic. Our head doctor estimates that 15% of the people in Kibakwe are hiv positive, and it was recently confirmed from the headmaster of our secondary school that prostitution is an on-going concern within the student body population. We have a lot of work to do; as we say in Kiswahili, hatua kwa hatua ("step by step.")

Ok, other delightful news: I am recovering from my first case of intestinal amoebas, or some other lovely creature that decided to take up residence in my colon. Not pretty, that's all I'll say. Once I'm back in America, I will never again take for granted the comfort and grace of having explosive, uncontrollable diarrhea while sitting on a toilet.

We haven't had much rain, which is freaking people out. Our water supply from the pump in our yard has been mostly uninterrupted, so our garden is coming along really well. Tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, various greens, cucumbers and zucchini have all started, as well as sunflowers. We pray for rain and study the skies every day; if it doesn't come, there will be disastrous results for the farmers--and just about everyone in Kibakwe is a farmer. No rain=no crops to sell=no money to buy food. Please send rain vibes our way.

Pipi the kitten is continuing to purr her way into our hearts. Truth be told: I am her favorite person. She likes to spend her days playing in our neighbor's cornfield and climbing our fence, pausing occasionally for naps on my lap.

Other regions of Tanzania have had lots of rain, so our big veggie market in Mpwapwa is exploding: giant cabbages, mountains of avocados, huge carrots, fresh peas, watermelons, and squash are currently in abundance. In sad news, mango season is over, and pineapples are dwindling. I already mourn the loss. Now that I am on the mend from my recent bowel adventures, I will again be cooking giant pots of coconut rice and spicy peanut sauce, my current faves.

We hear that spring has arrived in the states. Enjoy the melting snow, the emergence of green grass, and maybe even the daffodils that might be peeking out. As always, I'll keep you posted. I am sending love and smiles from Tanzania.

dada mkali

Yep, that's what I was called: Dada Mkali, or a Fierce Sister. This isn't meant as an insult--it usually means a person who takes charge and gets things done. It can also mean a person who's mean, usually from drinking too much, or just an overall nasty person. In my instance, it was meant as the weird compliment, as someone who gets things done. This description was uttered by a Peace Corps driver, heard by a friend, and was re-told to me not too long ago. My favorite Peace Corps employee was described as mkali, and I really like her, so I decided not to be upset. That's why I'm here: to get things done.

We're had an incredibly busy past two weeks. We finished our malaria sign campaign, and our village leaders are THRILLED with the signs that Tony made. We successfully taught our first permaculture/nutrition class with our dudes, and it was really well-received. I was overwhelmed by how interested our villagers were in learning basic food group and nutrition information. Actually, the preparations for this class took up most of our time, but it was worth it. We gathered our first harvest of mchicha (Tanzanian spinach), and it was delicious! The rains have been minimal, which is a source of stress, and we study the skies every day. Here's the big news: we came up with our idea for an International Women's Day project for March 8. We wrote up a proposal for a big HIV testing event to take place on Women's Day, in honor of women and with respect to protecting them. We showed our proposal to our village's doctors, nurses and leaders, and they loved the idea. Our leaders are going to get students to sing, dance and play drums at the event, and some of the "power mamas" want to organize a parade and carry signs in honor of women. So this little, tiny idea of ours is blossoming, and we're going to keep nudging everyone to keep the ball rolling--excitement is contagious, and all we did is plant the seed. I'm hoping that over 100 people will get tested for HIV--that's my personal goal, just a number I picked out of the sky. Maybe no one will get tested, maybe everyone will get tested--I'm preparing myself for either outcome. One thing is certain: people are very, very afraid to be tested for HIV here, and would rather just not know. I'm hoping for three things: to help people overcome their fear of knowing their HIV status, to help people stay healthy if they are not infected, and to help infected people live positively with their disease and stay as healthy as possible. My next blog update will let you know. How will you celebrate women on March 8?

Yes, Pipi the adorable kitten is doing well. She looks at me and starts purring, and sleeps on my belly during the night. She is afraid of dogs, is disinterested in chickens, and is endlessly fascinated by blades of grass and the rug at the foot of our bed.

As I'm writing this, it's 5:45pm, and the most glorious breeze is blowing through the computer lab. This is my absolute favorite time of day in our little part of Tanzania, when the sun stops being harsh and the breezes start blowing. When we're at home, we're usually cooking and listening to music during this time (called "jioni" in Kiswahili) and winding down the day, and I really love it. Tonight we're going out for dinner with some of our Mpwapwa Peace Corps friends: we're in the mood for chipsi rosti, which is fried potatoes cooked in a delicious tomato/pepper/garlic/onion sauce. Last night I baked a pineapple upside-down cake, and avocados are coming into season. We're doing ok.

a full update

We're settled back into life in Kibakwe, and things are moving along smoothly. Our fence is finished, and we now have a gate as well--no more uninvited chickens, guinea fowl, goats or cows wandering around our yard. It's pretty spectacular, actually--it's a living fence, meaning the trees that were cut down to make it re-sprouted and are growing back, and are producing leaves that people here like to collect and eat. Gilbert's wife taught me how to collect the best leaves, then pound them into a paste with garlic and boil with onions, tomatoes and peanut flour--really delicious, called kisamvu. This is a tribal dish, really common for our region's Wagogo people. Our garden is also coming along well; Tony and our dudes have double-dug (a technique in permaculture where you dig a garden bed twice as deep as normal so the roots grow down, not out, thus producing stronger, more productive plants in a smaller space--also utilizes a series of channels to collect rainwater and minimize erosion--really cool) at least 8 beds, and we've planted mchicha (Tanzanian spinach), tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, Chinese cabbage, butternut squash, zucchini and papaya trees so far--other things to plant in the near future include melon (seeds from US), other greens native to Tanzania, corn, beans, peanuts, and lettuce (seeds from US.) Tony and I and our dudes are teaching a permaculture gardening class in a few weeks, planning to introduce these easy gardening techniques to our villagers with the hope that they will return to their homes and plant small gardens nearby, thus improving their health through increased veggie/fruit consumption; I'll do a small piece on nutrition, and I'm really looking forward to it.

What else? We've started our malaria sign campaign, which involves making signs about malaria prevention and posting them around our town. Our town's head doctor really liked our idea and gave his full approval to our prototype. We finished one sign already and will do several more, hanging them in strategic locations like the veggie market, the health center and the schools. We also met with our next door neighbor, the town's nurse midwife, and had a long meeting about women's health and reproductive issues in Kibakwe. She and I will go to the secondary school (high school) and give some lessons about birth control and other issues related to sexuality. Tony and I would like to start video nights, where we show videos about HIV and related subjects, then have a group discussion afterwards; again, we would like to focus these efforts within the schools, because we think it's important to focus on the students. Finally, we're planning to start a little English class at our house, for those students interested in REALLY learning English; all of secondary school (high school) is taught exclusively in English, yet almost no one graduates being able to really speak or understand English. The students simply copy everything from the blackboard into their notebooks and memorize it for exams, without comprehending much of anything. International Women's Day is March 8; trying to come up with something great! Whew! Lots of plans, so many ideas--no harm in trying anything, because even if a project fails, we'll know we tried.

Our kitten, Pipi, is thriving. She has almost doubled in size since joining our household, eating a steady diet of dagaa (dried sardines) and powdered milk every day, plus table scraps. Her fur is thick and shiny now, and the sores on her nose have gone away. She is also proudly wearing a flea collar, courtesy of a dear friend in America--no more fleas!! She purrs like crazy, loves to eat bugs, and sits on our front steps every day, surveying our yard like a watchdog. When she wanders off, she goes over to our neighbor's house and curls up on top of their cable box (it's warm) and has a nap. She's unbelievably cute.

Tony and I are in a good groove; we're healthy and excited to have projects underway. We miss the comforts of home and the people there every single day, and regularly play the "if you could eat anything right now, what would you choose?" game. Home will still be there, veggie burgers will still be there, bloody marys will still be there when we finish this gig. I'm really trying to focus on the present: I live HERE right now, and I need to keep my mind here. It's easy to start spinning: where will we live when we finish in Tanzania? What will do? Will we buy a house? Where? What about grad school? Kids? Exhausting. I'm here, trying to enjoy my beans and rice one plate at a time.

a quick WOW!

We're back in Mpwapwa after our HIV workshop in Dodoma. On the second to last day of the seminar, we all went to a primary school near our training center to do some practice teaching about HIV. We worked in a group of four: me, Tony, Zizo and Gilbert, and we prepared for a few hours the day before. The preparations were not exactly how I would prepare for teaching by myself; lots of time was spent drawing straight lines with rulers on our teaching notes. I was sort of dreading the experience, because I was worried our "dudes" would get shy and clam up, and I'd be forced to teach with my limited Kiswahili. Ok, I was worried for nothing. Once we got in that classroom, our dudes sprang to life--they kept everyone interested, they managed the students well, they solicited questions and kept everything moving really smoothly. Tony and I watched with our mouths open, handing them chalk or paper when they needed it. Wow. They totally rocked, and we told them so afterwards; they could not have been happier to hear how pleased we were. THAT'S why we're here--to train teachers, to facilitate events, not necessarily to teach ourselves. That's the philosophy of Peace Corps--one day we'll go home, and we need to leave behind people with the interest and ability to continue educating in our absence. I consider this a huge success; these kids needed a chance to shine, we gave it to them, and they stole the show.

here, kitty kitty kitty

We got a kitten last week. She was meowing like crazy underneath one of our windows, and I went outside to see what the commotion was. Our yard was full of 12 year old boys who had come to gather fruit from our fruit tree (more on that later), and they joined in my efforts to catch the kitten. I got her and brought her inside and gave her milk. Then she started purring and rubbing against my legs--that sold me on keeping her. The group of boys had gathered in our courtyard at this point and were eagerly helping me choose a name for her, because Tanzanians don't usually name their pets--this was hysterically funny for all of us. We decided to name her Pipi, which is Kiswahili for "candy." She's mangy and dirty and covered with fleas, she has a scab on her nose, and she likes to eat bugs--but she purrs all the time, and loves to cuddle on my lap. What was I supposed to do? By now, one week later, people ask about her and come over to visit her. We're more popular than ever.

We have a fruit tree in our yard; it's a Zambarau tree, and its fruit is like tiny plums, as big as a fat kalamata olive. Tanzanians have trouble saying the "r" sound, so it sounds like "zambalau" when they say it, and that's what we say now, too. Our tree is literally raining zambalau--the branches are heavy with the dark purple little babies, and every time the wind blows, hundreds fall to the ground. People are in our yard all day long, gathering fruit from the ground or climbing the tree to get it. At first it was charming, and we quickly learned which fruits were good and which were sour; now, it's a little annoying, because we probably hear the word "zambalau" about 300 times per day. I won't be that sad when the zambalau season ends. Zambalau, zambalau, zambalau, zambalau, zambalau. Zambalau.

We're in Dodoma for the week, attending a Peace Corps workshop about HIV/AIDS. We were just settling back into the rhythms of life in Kibakwe after our holiday in Zanzibar, so I wasn't overly excited to travel again. However, we brought our usual counterparts, Zizo and Gilbert, and they are STOKED to be here and learn about HIV and go back to Kibakwe and start working on projects together. I've got lots of ideas about HIV-related projects; I am most interested in working with at-risk, out-of-school youth, which is the demographic with the highest rate of new HIV infection in Tanzania. I am also interested in working with the secondary school students, because I like teenagers. From everything we've learned so far, it's best to start with small, manageable projects, like coaching peer educators or starting a health club. We really have endless options--we are the first Peace Corps Volunteers in our town, and everyone has been so welcoming and supportive of our project ideas. With Peace Corps, you are completely in charge of your projects--you decide what you want to do and who you want to work with. As always, I'll keep you posted.

Here's the honest truth: being here is the most stressful experience of my life. The cultural adaptations are easy: over-crowded buses, squatting to poop, cooking with charcoal, boiling drinking water, learning to live without cheese, creative ideas about being on time. All easy--sometimes frustrating, but easy. The single most difficult thing for me, the thing that causes me endless stress and literally fills my head at night when I'm trying to fall asleep, is not being able to speak Kiswahili fluently. I am doing extremely well, considering I've only been speaking it for the last 7 months, but I am not a sophisticated speaker, and cannot always say what I want to or always understand what is being said to me. This is more frustrating, more maddening, more tormenting than you can imagine. I know that I'm being hard on myself, and I know that I'm doing very well, but it is absolutely necessary to speak Kiswahili here--there's just no English spoken in our town, other than the bits that Zizo and Gilbert can say--and I just want to live effortlessly. So there it is. I traded the stresses of life in America for the stresses of life in Tanzania. But I'm glad to be here, and I'm hoping that we'll have some success with our projects and that it will all be worth it.

Zambalau?