It was the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox and I was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench. It hadn't been less than 2 hours and the service had just begun. It wasn't the 2 mile walk to church that did me in, nor was it the hour of waiting for the service to start...
Once the service did start, I was glad to get things under way. I understood little of it, but new when to stand, what to sing, and when to sit. In the small cement church with one dangling incandescent bulb i was situated well between my host mom and my brother of 12. We were snug but not nearly as cramped as the 50 people on the 2 x 4 plank built balcony above.
I thought I new when the sermon started, but after an hour and a half of preaching I wasn't sure if perhaps we had moved on and I missed it. Hymns in Malagasy, as grammatically simple the language seems to be were very difficult to sing and even harder to understand, but I was thankful, they were the only aspect of the service that kept me awake and involved. I was able to get comfortable with my wonderful family and began feeling a part of the family at the service.
It wasn't until the auction at the end of the service that I was thrown for one. As a matter of fact, it's a great idea. The church was trying to raise money for a new building and auctioned things from cake to bananas to pineapples and live chickens for slightly more than market price to get people to support the church. I was tempted to bid on the 104th piece of cake auctioned, but I decided to hold off. After the auction, the service winded down and we started the fateful walk home. It was hot and we were in our Sunday's best. But I knew there would be a bowl of steaming rice whe I got home.
And 8 hours after we left the house for church, I sauntered into the kitchen and dug my spoon into a piping hot bowl of gasy rice. Despite the length, the lack of uunderstanding, and the long walk to and fro, it was a beautiful service and an experience I would pass up for nothing. And I'll do again so long as every time I get home I have the same longing and love for the steaming bowl of rice.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
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1 comment:
hey buddy,
Eric here, I hope this works man...It sounds like things are quite amazing and just a pile of new experiences that send you feelings of excitement and pleasure. What a place to be hunh?? Man o man, my jealousy runs with high CFS right now! I am sitting on the coach after a productive day of errands, work and a fine dinner...nothing to exciting, just a typical American shit-head. So in addition to staying healthy and happy my other hope for you is to get into the indigenous music of the country...I would be stoked on it! Don't want to leave to lengthy of a message, I could go on forever! Miss you tons man, can't wait to see you soon, our paths will cross soon enough..... - Eric
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