We arrived in the city (Bujumbura) on Friday evening. Saturday was filled with rest, sightseeing and a somewhat violent game spoons. Sunday morning at breakfast we were given 2 warnings about church. First that it was going to be 3 hours and include 2 sermons. Second, someone from the church had died the night before so church would be a bit different.
I don’t know much, but I got the idea that the man was not necessarily pronounced dead at the hospital, sent to a morgue, and waiting at the funeral home as we would do here. The pastor had spend most of the night literally taking the body to various places to do whatever it was that was needed. And now, we were being warned about what would happen in the service.
Church was in fact very different than it is here. I certainly do not want to put anyone down and our talents all come in different areas, but lets just say next time you see your worship leader, give them a hug! It was basically 2 complete services with an intermission in the middle. We had the first set of worship songs and a sermon. Intermission included some stretches, blessing the people outside the building by chanting and pushing air toward them in every direction, and a lively dance by the pastor. Then, the second half began with Jay giving greetings from America and the Chapel, it had some special music and a second sermon. So far so good. It did not seem too different because of the death. 
We were in the last stages of the second half singing another round of worship songs when the unthinkable happened. I know we were warned but I really feel we needed a bit more prep for what came next. While singing, a couple guys paraded a body down the middle aisle across the front and around into a room to the side of the church. It took everything in my being to not have my eyes pop out of my head and stare. No casket. No warning. And no one else was phased. All I could think was, “Keep your eyes forward. Pretend this is normal. What happens in Africa stays in Africa.” The service ended with a prayer for the family who lost their loved one.
After church we did the white mans parade. (AKA boarded the bus. This always seemed funny to me. No one else seemed to drive anywhere. Just us. So, watching all the white folks file into the bus to go do whatever white people do, was always a spectacle.) As we headed back to get some lunch everyone in the bus seemed jolly and normal. However, I was still in shock over seeing this body carried through the church. I could not help but start to wonder things like, why wasn't he stiffer seeming? Did they have to do something in order to be sure he wasn't stinky? Would he stay in that room until they could get a casket? Was the family present? How did they stay so calm? Why doesn't anyone else seem bothered by this? How can I possibly go eat lunch now? After what seemed like forever, Paul (bless his heart) learned in and whispered to me, “Did that just happen?”
“I know. right?!!!!”
I looked at Nicola, our fearless leader, and informed her that a little more warning would have been helpful! She looked a bit confused. So, Paul asked her what the deal was with the dead body. Nicola started laughing. I was thinking that was an odd response but to each his own! She explained that there is a person who has epilepsy in the church. They were having a seizure so they were being carried into the next room to be helped and recover.
A week later we went to the same church. This sweet person had another seizure and was carried once again to the side room. Nicola turned and looked at me with the perfect combination of smirking friend but also that look moms are so good at, "what is wrong with you?!"
No comments:
Post a Comment