A Sunday at My Kind of Church.
The mornings in Mbale are sacred times. One must rise with the dawn and the roosters (no choice with that one!) and there's a time, each morning, when I spend time in the solitude and quietness of daybreak. This Sunday, before the unabashed Christian music could blare obscenely (!!) I went to my own kind of Church.
Everyone here, I mean everyone, is religious and most are Christian. 'Where do you pray?' is as common a question as 'where do you stay' or 'what are you called. ' So usually on Sundays we go to the pool to avoid the Church pushers. There's nothing wrong with Church of course, but everyone wants to take you to their parish (the best one) and services last all day, in the heat. But this morning nestled in the cocoon of my mosquito net with my headphones turned up high playing mostly Indigo Girls (composers of the soundtrack of my coming of age) and a few others, I had another kind of spiritual moment. Who says you have to tithe to get closer to God?
I thought of every thing and all things at once. My mind raced, my eyes wept. I thought of my family and how I miss just sitting at the kitchen table over good food reminiscing about the trailer days. And about Maya's beautiful face and how she has brought us joy again. And about how silly it is for a family to be torn when there is so much pain in the world that we cannot avoid. And how I have seen so much in Africa that I still cannot articulate, except for the constant, fleeting flashes of children's faces and long dusty roads void of life for miles. And still, how loneliness is a privilege of the wealthy. In Africa you are never alone. Families and clans are solid and unwavering, and for the most part, no one is forsaken. And Americans think they have nothing to learn from Africa?
I also thought of how lucky I am to be here, despite missing my family and other comforts, and how welcomed I am. Last night I cooked, with the great help of Faz the house girl, an Italian feast for Will's family and the other interns. They were so happy to have life and laughter back in their home, and Anne (Will's "Mom") thanked me for my kindness and humility for cooking for her family. But that wasn't necessary. Sometimes we all want is to feel at home, as original as children, and for me that's how I do it.
So this Sunday, in my bed, I had a sermon of my own. I thanked God for my incredible luck, for justice, for pain, for feeling, for Africa, for my family, for Will, and for this journey. May everyone's Sundays be so spiritual.
Everyone here, I mean everyone, is religious and most are Christian. 'Where do you pray?' is as common a question as 'where do you stay' or 'what are you called. ' So usually on Sundays we go to the pool to avoid the Church pushers. There's nothing wrong with Church of course, but everyone wants to take you to their parish (the best one) and services last all day, in the heat. But this morning nestled in the cocoon of my mosquito net with my headphones turned up high playing mostly Indigo Girls (composers of the soundtrack of my coming of age) and a few others, I had another kind of spiritual moment. Who says you have to tithe to get closer to God?
I thought of every thing and all things at once. My mind raced, my eyes wept. I thought of my family and how I miss just sitting at the kitchen table over good food reminiscing about the trailer days. And about Maya's beautiful face and how she has brought us joy again. And about how silly it is for a family to be torn when there is so much pain in the world that we cannot avoid. And how I have seen so much in Africa that I still cannot articulate, except for the constant, fleeting flashes of children's faces and long dusty roads void of life for miles. And still, how loneliness is a privilege of the wealthy. In Africa you are never alone. Families and clans are solid and unwavering, and for the most part, no one is forsaken. And Americans think they have nothing to learn from Africa?
I also thought of how lucky I am to be here, despite missing my family and other comforts, and how welcomed I am. Last night I cooked, with the great help of Faz the house girl, an Italian feast for Will's family and the other interns. They were so happy to have life and laughter back in their home, and Anne (Will's "Mom") thanked me for my kindness and humility for cooking for her family. But that wasn't necessary. Sometimes we all want is to feel at home, as original as children, and for me that's how I do it.
So this Sunday, in my bed, I had a sermon of my own. I thanked God for my incredible luck, for justice, for pain, for feeling, for Africa, for my family, for Will, and for this journey. May everyone's Sundays be so spiritual.
posted by Sarah at 10:18 AM
4 Comments:
Wow. This blog really moved me. All I can think of is "yeah, what she said."
You have a gift.
We saw the Indigo Girls play the other night. Your mom handled you not being there pretty well...until they played "Power of Two" and then "Virginia Woolf." I went crazy when they played "Kid Fears." I really enjoyed the show and wish you were there. And, I can't help wondering if you even heard their new CD yet.
Anyway, as always, I enjoy reading your blog. Take care and I love you!
AJ
Religon is funny that way, each one is the right or true way, and everyone else's is wrong. How many wars were fought in the name of God, and continue to be?? It's a funny thing, sitting around the table, shooting the bull, after a great meal with either some good red wine or some corona's, talking sbout anything and everything just being happy we are together. Maybe because the holidays are just around the corner it is easy to think about family and how we should be together it spite of everything. But words are easy, action is much harder. I can tell that you are changing, just don't change too much because I'm kind of fond of the Sarah that left here a mere 6 weeks ago. Keep on writing I love you Kid, Love MOM
You must have gotten your writing skills from your mother, she expresses my feelings as well (just more articulate)
I promise that what has happened to our family will not happen again as long as I am alive.
To me cristianity has always been "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
KEEP following this life rule and you will be as cristian as the rest.
For awhile now I have gone to church "like a Protestant" and spent at least three hours of my Sunday morning there. Of course, we really don't worship in the traditional sense, although the grounding and centeredness I come away with (not always) feels like worship to me. It has meant alot to me, but I went late, and its not for everyone. There is so much beauty in the human soul that laying around and thinking and crying seems like worship too, as you found.
Family is important, and as we know, complicated. Fear, age, illness, stupidity all play an unhappy part in where we find ourselves these days. I always pray for love to trump all. Silly me. But that is where I want to be, and where I will always try to get to. Its hard, but action which is worth doing, and trying again.
I love you very much. I spoke with a friend who is from Kenya, and he has a good NGO friend (from his childhood) living in Nairobi who he says would be happy to meet you and Wil if you are headed that way. Let me know, and I will get his email and send it to you. It might be nice to meet him.
Love,
Aunt Paula
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