Church

On Sunday I was in the shower when I heard a 'hodie' at the door. 'Hodie' is what they say in place of 'knock knock.' I thought that if I ignored it it might just go away, but it came in the house. I then realized that it was the friend I had promised on Friday night that I would attend church. So I told him I was coming. I got ready in about five minutes, but it was 10:50, and he told me church started at 10. That sounds like home!!

When we got there other people were still entering, so I knew it was OK. We went in and sat down on just about the only spot left. Instantly, a little boy, about four, came up to my row and started staring at me. I got a bit nervous that others would pile around, but he turned out to be the only one. What a relief. He then moved through the aisle toward me. I made space beside me and motioned for him to sit in hopes of avoiding him standing in front of me staring through the entire thing. He sat next to me and I smiled at him several times. After a while he got brave and started poking at my arm and playing with my fingers. I did my best to not distract him, but divert his attention forward so as to not frustrate the over-controlling old man on the other side of him.

The child was adorable. He had on a bright green dress shirt and a tie that matched surprisingly well. I really thought nothing could match the shirt. The tie was shiny and new, and it came down past his knees. The old man next to him had a tattered tie, and I couldn't help but think that the child would someday be the old man, wearing the same tie he had had since he was three. I don't know what that says about me and my perspective, maybe I still have some sort of pity for people here. Maybe I am in awe of everyone's ability to be resourceful and I give them a lot of credit for it, or maybe a million other things. For some reason I feel guilt about the thought, but can't help sharing it. Whatever the case, that was the cutest kid I saw all day, and I wish I had taken a picture.

The service was nice with lots of singing, but like my Engineers Without Borders experience at church, the preaching was much too loud. Fortunately this time only one person yelled at a time. Contrary to the preacher and translator simultaneously yelling, such as we experienced in March.

After the service I asked my friend, Ausubuhi, if he went to church every week. He said, "Yes, do you?" When I said no he asked why not. He really doesn't seek that much English, but still more than I speak Swahili, so I just left the subject. Especially after such a nice service I didn't feel the same things that I normally feel about religion.

Later in the day he told Sara, who was able to translate just right, how happy he was that I went to church with him. That made me feel sort of weird and happy at the same time. It was nice to know that I could do something so simple to make someone so happy, and it was weird that it was over religion.

I think overall, for speaking no Swahili and being around people that speak so little English, I have done a lot of, mostly successful, communicating. For me it's interesting to notice the things that are communicated without words. When they are mixed with words, the weight they carry is not as noticeable, but when that's all I have, I know that everything I have communicated in the last several weeks (not to everyone, just a couple of friends) has been non-verbal.