Sunday, September 7th

We went to church this morning in a nearby village. There is a French service in the city of Korogo just a few miles away, but Robin attends the service in the village because she is trying to improve her Chebbara.

It was fascinating to watch everyone dance and to listen to their singing which is mostly call and response. They play instruments called balafons which are the "wooden xylophone-looking things" that I referred to from the funeral yesterday. The people clap and do different dances with their feet. I have no idea how everyone knows which dance to do, but they all seem to start doing the same one simultaneously. It took me a little while to catch on since the hands and feet don't always go together, but once I realized that, I picked up on them pretty quickly! Here is a video of some of the music:



This beautiful girl in a lavender dress came up and sat with me. Her name was Mikele (like Michelle, but with a "hard" k) and she was the daughters of one of the workers at the dispensary. We were fast friends and she sat with me the entire service. When the choir sang, she got up and danced for all four numbers. She held on to my hand and flailed my arm around as her body pulsed with the rhythm. It is amazing to me to watch how the beat seems to come up from somewhere deep inside of them, but as I watched the babies lay against their mothers' backs as they danced, I realized that it simply becomes a part of them from the very first day that they enter this world. Mikele's eyes were transfixed on my face the entire time that she was dancing and every time I would look at her, her entire face would light up with this brilliant smile. It was great. She kept pressing herself up against me throughout the rest of worship. I finally pulled her up in my lap during the sermon and she was content to sit there with me, two bodies sweating in contented happiness. I wrote a poem about her that you can read here.

During the sermon, people will randomly yell out things like "Take care of your children," (if the babies are crying) or "Wake up" if people are falling asleep. If too many people are falling asleep, the song leader will interrupt the pastor and start another song in the middle of the sermon. We sang two songs during the sermon this morning. I found that entertaining.

The rest of the day was pretty laid back and at a few moments it verged on boring. There was a monstrous rainstorm this afternoon, so we sat in the house and read while the large drops beat against the metal overhangs. It was wonderful. I wandered around the dispensary this evening to get some pictures, but I went a little too late and it was too dark to get any good pictures. It gets dark around 6:30 or 7 pretty much year round. Robin and I played some games later this evening and then read a little more. I didn't really want to read, but there wasn't anything else to do. More than anything, I wanted to call home and talk to someone. Anyone. For whatever reason, I felt lonely and isolated and I was longing for a taste of anything familiar.

I don't know what I am expecting/waiting for/hoping for. There are moments when I feel like everything I have done and am currently doing is leading up to this and there are moments when I feel like I could never do this. Ever. But I think those moments come when I realize how much I would have to let go of and how inadequate I feel. I mean, I would actually have to let God be sufficient for me and I would need His strength and His wisdom to make it through each day. Imagine that! A Christian dependent on God. What a novel idea.