Wall Flower

Tension mounts in the kitchen just like the soapy bubbles forming as hot water from the faucet fills the sink. She is exhausted from a long time and on top of that has had to prepare a meal for her family and now she has to do the dishes. A little help from the hubby maybe? Oh that would just be too much to ask!  She marches out to the living room where her husband and arch-nemesis, the 52 inch flat screen tv, reside, and guilts her husband into helping her with the dishes. Though she is getting what she wants in theory, she is not at all satisfied and the man is confused and annoyed.

Was he not doing what she asked? Women…

“I want you to want to help me with the dishes,” she explains.

The man looks at her like she just told a joke, “Why would I want to do the dishes?!”

Boom. Dog house.

Not that my experience at church this morning was anything like that, but for some reason, I thought of this story as I replayed the service this morning in my head.

Kristi and I went to the Church of Pentecost to fulfill our invite from Moses and Emery. We were greeted by the pastor’s wife Caroline, whom I had met at the girls’ program the other day. What a dear woman! She reminds me of my mom, and she is just a peach. She is so kind, and there is just something about her that puts her in a class by herself. She invited us to sit up front with her, which is a very kind gesture, but a little uncomfortable because the entire church is looking at you. This is not the first time this has happened to me.

I noticed this church was set up like most of the others I have been to here- a large building with a seating in the back half, an empty space in the front half with a small stage at the very front. An American thinks wasted space and a Konkomba thinks DANCE FLOOR!!

I have to admit I have been very surprised at myself on Sunday mornings. In any other situation, I am the first person on the dance floor because I love to dance, but here, my heart starts pounding when I am asked to dance. I have declined both offers I have been given jovially and say that I just enjoy watching, which is true, but inside, I am so relieved. From my perspective, it looks ridiculous. If you were to dance like this in America, people would think you are nuts. You body has to do this wet noodle thing with these weird steps, and I honestly think I would like a fool. And dancing in church… SINNER!!! My great grandparents are rolling over in their graves at the thought of me even entertaining such an idea!

Yet, for me to partake in such a thing is an honor to them. They would be so flattered and happy that I am doing my best to become a part of them, and that is straight from Jonah. I will spare you from my thought process that makes me against doing this, but know that is laced with a hint of legalism from my upbringing, and I felt like the husband in the story above and the people here like the pleading wife. Why would I want to do something I don’t want to do? Why dance when I remain completely uninvolved and comfortable? I know I would feel differently if it was dancing as I know it, but I revert back to the super awkward, anti-attention getting little girl I used to be. Look at or laugh at me and I would start crying.

On top of that, Emery introduced us and asked if we would like to share a song. I got that same sinking feeling in my stomach again.  UM NO! I was prepared for this! And I while I can sing, I don’t sing well enough to belt out a solo in front of an entire congregation! I quickly retreated back to the safe confines of my comfort zone in my chair, hoping this service would get over soon.

That’s when it hit me (this happens a lot here).

I have done my very best to involve myself in all aspects of their lives except for this one. I told Jonah in our discussion this afternoon that I didn’t feel like I would be dancing for the right reasons and that it is not how I worship. He said it’s not worshipping, it’s praising God with every fiber of your being. Touché.

Additionally, these people can’t carry a tune in a dump truck!! They have no concept of pitch so really, I have nothing to be afraid of and I should be willing to share because it would mean a lot to them. They don’t care about any of the things that concern me. They are just happy to be alive in the wake of a water crisis and typhoid epidemic and the least they can do is dance and sing to praise God.

The take home message from this is that I need to suck it up and hit the dance floor. Sing and play a song for them. Get over myself. I hate the feeling of fear or anxiety, so you have to do the things that scare you so you get over it. This culture and church services are on the polar opposite end of the spectrum as what I am used to. I have been too proud to partake, and yet I have been dead set on building these relationships but won’t fully come into their world. The God I know and love is the same God they love and dance for.

So this is my declaration to you: next Sunday, there will be dancing. I will be pitting out from anxiety and the heat, but I will do it. I will not be held back my own vanity and comfort level.

On that note, I miss church in Helena like crazy. Oh what I would give to hear Pastor Paul teach and Cari Schlauch sing. I sound like my dad, but except for Pastor Jidoh’s church last Sunday, all I hear is noise amped up by sound systems they don’t know how to run. Quite honestly, I am over the “cultural experience” of church here and would like something without shouting and hollering all the time. Substance, people. We’re going for substance here.

Kristi and I came back a lounged this afternoon.  The thermometer had topped out again. It was miserably hot, and we couldn’t do anything to cool ourselves off. Just sitting even makes you sweat. You get really tired and sleepy but you can’t really sleep because you are so hot. It’s a trip and you’ve just got to wait it out.

We met Joe and his friend Enoch for a walk when things cooled off. We went to the “dump” as they call it here, which is a reservoir they fetch water from. It is a dump!! I knew it was bad, as Saboba is in a water crisis, but I had no idea how bad it was until I saw it for myself. People were gathered around the edge of this stagnant, greenish pond filling their buckets and water cans. It was sickening. It was a typhoid incubator. Preventative medicine here would have to start with engineering.

We popped over the hill as we continued on our walk noticing a group of people huddled around a water pump. Both Krisit and I were so confused as the boys tried to explain. I’ll do my best to pass what we learned along to you.

Bore holes go deep down and bring up fresh, clean water and there is only one that is working (in that part of town) even though they are scattered all over Saboba. World Vision has built most of them, but they have either broken or dried up, and they have not bothered to fix them. I hate to say it, but World Vision in Saboba is corrupt. These people are in a typhoid epidemic and no one is doing anything about it. One of the pumps had a handle that was broke, but other than that, it was perfectly capable of providing these people with another water source. What is even more alarming is that the bore hole that was working, again drilled by World Vision, was working only because the town of Saboba decided to fix it. To cover the cost, the people using it had to pay a fee and today was the first day that it was free again. Like they have money to do that! We were shocked. Absolutely shocked. It is just one social injustice after another here.

Dad, Gavin and Galen, this is where you come in. I feel like you could fix a lot of this with your super handiman, Mr. Fix It ways. I wish I was smart enough and had the man power to do so myself, but this is totally out of my realm, so I’ll just pray.

Bob and Jean got back this evening while we were still out on our walk, so a “normal” week will begin tomorrow morning. I am glad for Kristi so she can get into the swing of things. Her sitting suck stage is over! It’s been nice having her here. I am getting to know her better, and the thing I appreciate most about her is that she laughs with me. I see crazy things all the time, and sometimes I find myself looking around for someone to see what I see, and no one usually does until now. It’s so nice. As Dr. Jeans says, "Humor is the last thing to cross the cultural barrier."

New Cast Member

Andrews- He has like ten Konkomba names like everyone here but this is one of his English names, so that’s what we are going to use. He is the town know-it-all. He is everywhere and he always knows what is going on in a good way. He is a good man and goofy as all get out. I filmed him the other day dancing for his “exercise” because it’s how he stays young. He is just hilarious, and he takes such good care of me. I’m pretty sure he knows where I am at all times, not that I’m hard to find. Now that Kristi is here, if we are ever separated he finds the “other one” to tell us where the “other one” is. He wears wide brimmed, round classes and a hat all the time. Every town has one and Andrews is ours and we love him.   

Hope you all had a wonderful Sunday!

Happy Birthday tomorrow to my dear sister Nicole Leibach who won’t answer her phone for a birthday call!!! Love and miss you!