This morning was an experience like no other. Pastor Chijoka encouraged us to attend his church, St. Matthew’s, this morning. It’s located in more central Lusaka, near the President’s mansion. We know Pastor Chijoka rather well because he worked with us when planning for the in-service, so even though we were a little bummed to miss another week of Bethel’s worship service, we agreed to go (and were soon very happy we did). Pastor Sargeant drove us, Bismarck, and four of the Nigerian pastors (who are here for the classes these two weeks). Vicar Moyo and his wife also came along with us since he preaches at a church just up the road. We got to St. Matthew’s at 9 and looked around the small but neat little church building until the service started at 10. Bismarck told us all about his upbringing and educated us a bit more on Zambia.
St. Matthew’s is a very beautiful church. It uses the traditional WELS liturgy and many of the same songs. It even has a keyboardist. My first thought was how westernized the clothing was. There were very few chitenges – most of the women wore the uniforms of the choir. The women in the youth choir (by the way, a youth in Zambia is anyone from age 12-35) wore knee-length black skirts, a white button-up shirt, and a black jacket with a red tie. The men wore black suits with ties, except for the choir master, who wore what looked like a suit in the front and a cape in the back. They looked very sharp. The women’s choir wore the same uniform that the ladies at Bethel wear – purple skirts with white shirts and a purple headwrap. There was a lot more makeup, westernized hair-styles, and designer jeans here than there is at Bethel.
The choir was amazing. I thought Bethel was fantastic, but this choir is even better. This is the choir that actually won last weekend’s competition (there were only three choirs in it, but still). I have never heard a choir so talented. Their voices are so powerful. Rachel got some good videos of them.
Pastor Chijoka actually wasn’t there today; he was off visiting another congregation. One of the Nigerian pastors preached and a layman did the rest of the service. I’m not used to the Nigerian accent, so he was difficult to understand at first. I finally got the hang of how he talked and was able to hear a really excellent sermon. The congregation loved it – throughout, there was lots of “Amens!” and clapping after an especially good point. Every few months, the church takes a Pastor’s offering, which means after the service, members of the congregation come up and put a little extra money in the offering plate (or in this case, a bucket). They did this in an organized procession. First, the children started a beat on the drum, sang a song, and danced up there in a line to put their offerings in. Then, the youth choir went. After the youth choir, the other youths who aren’t in the choir go. Thankfully, they’re (meaning me) not obligated to dance. When their song was over, the ladies choir sang and danced while the other adults put in their offering. One man got lots of cheers as he boogied his way up the aisle. The service was an interesting mix of Lutheran doctrine and African traditions. It made for an uplifting and joyful service. We were introduced to the congregation as “special visitors from the States.” The service lasted about two hours, and then we were ushered out and shook hands with everyone in the congregation. We were expecting Pastor Sargeant to pick us up (he was at another church preaching) but it didn’t seem like he was going to be back for a while. We just had no idea what was going on, but in Africa, you just have to go with the flow and eventually you’ll figure it out.
This congregation wins the prize for being the most friendly and welcoming; one of the choir members introduced us to our “guides” – three young youths who were to show us around. Their names were Bridget, Jane, and Esther, and even though they looked and acted like very mature women, they were only 14 and 16 years old. They took us inside (again, we were a little confused because Bismarck and the other pastors had disappeared, and we were still expecting Pastor Sargeant to pick us up sometime soon) and talked to us for a while as the choir practiced their songs. They gave us some fruit from the baobob tree, which was one of the strangest things I’ve ever eaten. This huge softball-sized thing – kind of like a nut – grows on its branches. They break it open and inside are these white chunks, which you suck on until you get to the brown seed in the middle. The texture of the “fruit” (I’m really not sure if it is a fruit) kind of felt like I was sucking on a cotton ball. It was a little sour. Overall, it was pretty good. Strange, but good.
The girls, and actually all the members, spoke excellent English. We talked to them for a while and then were informed that the choir wanted to interview us. We sat in plastic chairs facing the entire choir while they asked us questions about America. Mostly, we discussed the roles of youths in the church. The main difference between America and Africa as far as youths go is the participation. I don’t remember the exact stats, but I know that between the ages of 18 and 28, Americans tend to stop going to church. It’s the opposite in Africa. Youths seem to grow stronger in their faith and become very active during this time. There are huge choirs for the youths and lots of participation in youth Bible classes. They have sporting and music competitions between churches.
After our interview, we were told that the ladies were preparing lunch for us. We ate a traditional Zambian meal with the Nigerians and a few of the Zambian church members. The meal consisted of nsima (of course), rape (cooked kale), coleslaw, mincemeat (beef – it was cooked like taco meat), and fish. Zambians eat with their hands. They role up the nsima into balls and then dip it in the sauces, which at this meal was the vegetables and meat. It took me a minute to get used to eating with my hands, but I got over it and actually enjoyed the meal. It was very good, although I politely declined the fish. One of the Zambians teased me about not eating fish and said he was planning on taking us fishing after this. Zambians drink a surprising amount of soda – there is almost always Coke or Fanta served with each meal (at least within the city limits; I doubt anyone in the villages drinks soda). Nigerians don’t eat this kind of food, so it was a cultural experience for all of us.
After the meal, we were told that the church was ordering taxis for us to take us back to the Seminary, but Pastor Sargeant surprised us and picked us up. We left the church after 2:00 and got back to our house a little after 2:30. Sundays in Africa are definitely all about church. In fact, many of the members are going back later in the afternoon to watch netball and football games against another church’s youths. Isn’t it interesting that many Americans complain if a church service is longer than an hour?
I have to write a little bit about the President’s mansion. I got a glimpse of it while driving past. Guards sit outside the gate whenever the President is in Zambia. If he’s not in the country, they won’t stand there. They learned how to guard from the British – they will not speak or move a muscle, unless they’re going to shoot you. Side note: I also learned that you can never take a picture of anyone in the military. Rachel’s mom, for example, was videotaping something when a police officer walked by. He took the camera and erased everything on it. So even though I want to go back and take a picture of the mansion, I won’t be able to do that. And get this: the courtyard of the mansion has two giraffes, several zebras, and impalas. How crazy is that? This is merely miles from the downtown of Lusaka. Surrounding the President’s quarters live members of the military and Cabinet. One of the administrators doesn’t have guards in human form; rather, he has a lion. Apparently a guard dog wasn’t good enough. Sometimes, people will see a cow taken in through the gates. That means it’s feeding time for the lion.
This morning was definitely a cultural shock for me, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m so happy I got to experience something so different.
I did a little preparation for tomorrow’s class before heading over to the Birner’s for dinner and a game of bocce ball. The Birners hosted the usual crew of missionaries, Professor Cherney, and Jason Paulzer (a former missionary) and his two co-workers from the University of Wisconsin. They’re here to do something with the medical mission…I can’t quite remember exactly what. We had some delicious food. Dee made the most amazing peanut butter bars ever – I’ll be getting the recipe for those ones.
Today was one of those days that reminded me that I’m in Africa. I know that sounds silly, but I’ve gotten into a routine with everything else. I’m used to funny stories on minibus rides or hearing the kids say amusing things. But today, with the church service, music, and food, was so unlike anything else I’ve experienced. It’s not something I can replicate satisfactorily in a blog; I wish I could share these moments with my friends and family.
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