Rock-tober 11, 2019

In 2007, along with team members from our church, Andrea and I were in Tanzania as guests of the Archdiocese of Tanganyika. During our three weeks in the country, it was a fantastic cultural exchange as we met with Anglican and government officials, parishioners, as well as regular folks from towns and villages. As we went from place to place, there were always formal introductions. When Andrea stated her name, there was usually a knowing smile among the Tanzanian contingent we were meeting.

During one session with the diocese ladies group, Andrea introduced herself, and in good-natured shock, the hosting ladies collectively crinkled their brows. "What?! Andrea? In our culture, that is a man's name." In that region, the name "Andrea" was not androgynous like "Pat" or "Chris". Nor was there a feminine nuance like "Jean" vs. "Gene". It was strictly masculine.

They immediately set about rectifying this and peppered Andrea with questions to learn more about her so that a more suitable moniker could be bestowed. During the steady stream of questions, they gleaned that Andrea's birthday fell in November. With this, the questioning suddenly ceased, and the meeting hostesses conferred with each other. They turned to Andrea, smiled, and unofficially christened her with a Swahili name that translated loosely to "Gentle Rains". They went on to explain that her birth month coincided with the start of one of the country's rainy seasons.

When she relayed this to me later, at first I laughed. "Wait a minute. You were named for a thunderstorm? Something loud and sometimes scary? Wow. I guess redheads have a reputation here, too."

Slowly, as I gained some situational awareness, the deliberate and affectionate goodwill of the parish ladies group moved me. They were actually being very honoring in their choice of Andrea's nickname. Tanzania is an equatorial country. Depending on your location and the season, it can be very dry and very hot. The driest time of the year is typically the long six month stretch between mid-May and mid-November. The advent of rain around Andrea's birthday in this largely pastoral country is literally life-giving.

Sting released "Desert Rose" in 1999. It was an exotic collaboration with Cheb Mami, an Algerian singer riding waves of popularity at the time in continental Europe. These are some of the English lyrics:

This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this

I've written missives to Andrea before, but nothing this flowery. Besides, I'm not sure how she'd take to me suddenly calling her "Desert Rose". It sounds too much like Keats rather than the cigar-chomping, bourbon swilling author of this blog. Regardless, I find myself more partial to the nickname bestowed by that small group of Tanzanian women. Even though the Swahili "Mvua Nyororo" doesn't really roll off the tongue, I find it to be more apt. I've known her over half my life and it's been a grand adventure. While there are times when she can be loud and sometimes scary (she is a redhead), her presence in my life has been life-giving.