Monday, February 9, 2009

Sunday in Yabus...



begins with all dressing in their very finest, and heading for church. As a team we all headed together to the Maban church where Stephen, one of the SIMSS teachers was leading worship this Sunday. It was a lovely stroll, delayed slightly while we allowed some large bulls to cross the river road ahead of us. We took the path by the old, burned out helicopter, a remnant of the war. It’s been there a while. Trees are growing through it.

By the time we made it to the church we were among the late arrivals. There was room on the men’s side, and in fact Rick and Peter got seats of honor at the front. Val was able to find a seat in the middle of the men’s side, which came in handy as he was called upon a few times to lead in prayer as well as give greetings for the team. He did such a good job. I expect him to have his own TV show back in the states! However, the women were not so lucky. There were very few seats left on the women’s side by the time we got there. Not quite sure why the church seats remain divided in half, one side each when women and children outnumber men at least three to one. Traditions and deep rooted custom are the key.

We deposited ourselves, in small spaces between the women and children. The seats are no more than small, hand hewn, boards, maybe 4 inches wide, at most, braced on supports. While much of the service was difficult to hear (because we were in the back and surrounded by children) we were none-the-less entertained. The wardrobes were as varied and interesting as you could ever imagine. One little two-year old boy arrived in a lapeled wool suit and a necklace (no shirt). A wool suit in 100+ temps!. Most of the infants had on hats and sweaters. We are learning this is typical for the first year of a baby’s life here as they lose so many babies. The little girls had on patchwork dresses, polyester shifts decorated with jewels and buckles. I saw at least one Arnold Swazeneger T-shirt over a plaid skirt, and a Bob-Marley T-shirt with lime green kimono pants. The women were also well dressed. Some of the Maban women that we had met in our prior consultation on beading, where they had been dressed in mere rags, were wearing washed and ironed dresses. Simple but very well taken care of. I am beginning to understand: their daily lives are so rough: hot and physical labor. Why wear anything but rags. They are close knit and not out to impress each other. At church, when they come to glorify God they dress in their very finest. At all times, at work and at worship, they are always so happy to greet you and give you a warm smile and sticky handshake. Beautiful.

Stephen preached on Love. He was very energized and engaging. He preached in English, his interpreter following closely. He walked up and down the aisle. Involving the audience. He is a great preacher. I have no doubt he will have a large church some day. We joined along in the singing as best we could. Children came in and out. Many were outside, sitting just on the other side of the bamboo wall from where I was (on the shady side of the building) and the little girls were holding and taking care of the even littler siblings. They would bring the babies in to their mothers to nurse when needed. Otherwise they were pretty well self contained and well behaved.

At the end of the service, the tradition is to follow the preacher out the door and sing and clap, gathering in a circle, which is also sort of a greeting line. The little children ran around to the back door of the church to get in the back of the line leaving the front of the church so they could pass around the circle and shake hands too. It’s a beautiful tradition. Wonder how we could incorporate it at home.

Our walk home was slow and uneventful. That’s a good thing. The thermometer on Kathy’s bag said 110-degrees. The afternoon we wrested for a while and then prepared to prepare Sunday dinner. The compound cooks are off on Sunday and so the mission staff do the meal preparation. It was quite an interesting dinner. As we were relaxing on the patio, one of the roosters let out a mighty squak and we looked out to see Phalice had him by the tail feathers. We had been talking about chicken dinner, and the roosters had been so obnoxious with their crowing. We were trying to get enthused about our own twist on rice and beans and then, voila! Rooster. Another rooster was rounded up and the planning proceeded. Kathy, always one to learn a new bush skill, got in on the plucking. Meanwhile, Hanna and I got lessons from Phalice and Bethany on charcoal baking. We made a chocolate cake from a mix. Cooked on coals in a pan, on a dirt base under an aluminum pot. A little intimidating. But it worked!

Meanwhile, back in the cook hut, Victoria has offered to cook a Nigerian meal, using the chicken, rice and whatever else we could round up. After cooking the rice we mushed it up and then she showed me how to toss it in a bowl to a smooth round ball before placing it on the platter. Tuo shinkafa. We made a vegetable curry with broth, tomato paste, garlic, onions peanut butter, and a vegetable like chard. While all this was going on, the two old roosters were being boiled away, head, feet and all. We used this stock for the curries. Victoria transferred the boiled chicken into hot oil and fried it. Then she taught me how to make a wonderful curry paste sauce to toss the chicken in. The flavors were wonderful but those old roosters were so tough. We chewed and chewed. Sucked all the wonderful flavor off. But most of the meat was unchewable. The end to the feast was the chocolate cake, which was enjoyed by all. Dinner was followed by singing songs of praise outside under the full moon. We are all recharged now and ready to take on the new week.

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