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.