This is what we advertised on our posters for our village HIV testing day held on Thursday. We tested 92 people! (96, including the four of us wazungu volunteers.) It was an exciting day for me, and most of the people we tested were secondary school students, which meant a lot to me, as it showed that they had taken our teaching to heart and acted on what they'd learned. As they've heard us say so many times... "The only way to know your status is to get tested!"
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I have a lot to write about right now, but I don't want to be on the computer. So here's a bit of what I've had mostly pre-prepared.
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Now that I know them better, I will describe my family in more detail. Mama is a big woman and a devout Christian. She goes to the Pentecostal church in the village, and she prays before meals. She sings songs in Swahili about Jesus as she works during the day. In our livingroom there is a painting of the Virgin Mary hanging from the end of the window covering rod. She calls me Dada Carrie and always asks me what my schedule is ("Nafundisha wapi leo?". She rarely eats with us, but wants to prepare what we like and wants us to eat more. She owns a duka (shop) in the village and gives me free sodas and invites me in to sit for a while.
Baba reminds me very much of many American men-of-households. He's very proud but is not as warm, friendly or welcoming as so many of the men I meet in the village. Kweli (it's true), as Erica and Romy told me before moving in, he really likes to speak English--or rather, practice what he knows. His English is possibly better than my Swahili, and he doesn't seem to have the patience for my practicing. He tries to teach me a phrase in Kimeru every now and then, but more often just stares at me and repeats himself, slowly, expecting me to suddenly understand what he says in Kiswahili, never reverting to sign language or simpler sentences. He has a belly and a slight swagger to his gait, and he teases the cat as he slouches in his couchlike seat at dinner. He also once showed up near the village center on a motorcycle that he noisily sped away on, after stopping to say hi. It wasn't his motorcycle, but he seemed to feel important riding it.
Stella is the only child I know is from both Baba and Mama. She's around 10 years old and in our Maroroni Primary school's standard 6 class. She smiles a lot at me and says, "Mambo Dada Carrie!" at every opportunity she gets. She's my best, most patient and energetic Kiswahili teacher. She'll also sing and dance songs she's learned in school for me, never embarrassed. She tries to teach them to me, too. I'm currently learning Tanzania's main national song ("Tanzania, Tanzania! Nakupenda kwa moyo wote... Nchi yangu Tanzania... ?"/"TZ, TZ! I love you from the bottom of my heart... country of mine, Tanzania...?") along with a greetings song I started learning in my UCLA basic Swahili course ("Jambo, Jambo Bwana! Habari gani? Nzuri sana! Wageni, mnakari biahwa, Tanzania yetu, Hakuna Matata!"). Stella listens to the radio a lot--which is always static with some discernable tune or voice--and will sit it down and dance for me. She likes to high-five, pound fists and play with my hair (which is very different from hers, of course, especially since she has hardly any), and she likes to ask me to do they prayer when we eat together. I love having her around as my Dada.
There are other members of the family, too, that live, work and hang out in and around the house. Furaha is always there. She's about 21 years old and is not clearly related to the family, though seems to be treated as a member of the family with simply more responsibilities. She does most of the work around the house from mopping the floors almost daily to cooking, setting out the food, washing clothes, sweeping the dirt outside, and fetching and/or heating water for me and Fatuma to wash with. She's somewhat stylish, smiles a lot, and has beautiful eyes. I haven't had much of a conversation with her, but I do end up thanking her a lot.
There's also Baba's sister, Mami. She is unmarried and has no children and has been cooking a lot for us. I like her. She's very warm towards me and exhibits a lot of patience for my Swahili. She takes good care of me, making sure I ate more than once per meal and that I ate everything that was served.
There's also Alex (pronounced "Alexi"), who's a 17-year-old Form-2 students at our secondary school. I think he's a cousin to the family. He's very pretty with a very dark, wide face and very pright eyes. He studies almost every school night in the living room and asks me, "Carrie, what's the definition of '[insert technical word here, as in "transportation, family, trade...]'" and always reads the textbook definition he has in his notes to me when I've failed to come up with the same exact wording. Why does he do that? People don't think in English in textbook language like he learns in school...
Finally, there's Maneno (Roberti) and Frank (Franki), who I think are done with school and work all day, driving the donkeys here or there and doing I'm-not-sure-what-else, but they keep busy.
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Sunday night, upon return to the village, Stella had somehow produced a jump rope. She coaxed me out to play, too. There was a mat lain out on the dirt outside, on which we played in the dark, jump-roping with Furaha and even Mami (who I think is in her late 40s)! After jumping for a while, we sat on the mat and looked up at the moon. It was so bright that it made shadows on the ground. Stella started playing with my hair, again, and as I had intended to get my hair braided this week, I asked her if she and Furaha knew how to braid ("Unaweza kusuka?"). Sh must have thought I meant right now because she called Furaha over from preparing dinner, and they each started braiding different sections of my hair with no apparent plan. Mami, came over, too, sat on her knees and took up another part of my head, doing her own thing, but all saying, "Nyuele vizuri!" (very nice hair!). At one point they called Frank over, too, and I had eight hands in my hair! Needless to say, the endproduct was a typical endproduct of nonproductive hair-play.
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We had a big week in the village and we're on our way to finishing the Awareness Campaign strong. We have one more full week in the village to teach, etc. and then a short week that will include our Community Day on the day before we move out. We'll then move into our second village to launch an awareness campaign there, too, fresh. Again, for five weeks.
Thank you all for your love and support. It means a lot. More than I can say right now. Love.
