Lazy Sundays, Minus Electricity

Day off today – although our laziness has been slightly reduced by the fact that there has been no power in the town all day. It’s literally just come back on.

We had nothing scheduled for today, so asked Wilson if he had any suggestions as to what we should do. After some thought, he said most Zambians went to church on a Sunday – would we like to go? Eager to try out a new experience, we agreed and organised for his wife agreed to take us this morning.

By 9.30 am we were at the church gathering –  I say ‘gathering’ because we weren’t actually in a church building but a school room, as this particular congregation had not yet built their church. Cecelia, Wilson’s wife, asked us if either of us had ever been to a Pentecostal service before; neither of us had. I was a little unsure what to expect.

On entering the church, people were already singing, and I’m not sure why but I suddenly felt extremely emotional. Perhaps it was the way the a cappella voices wove together, with each member of the congregation contributing their own harmony to the melody, but I found myself nearly moved to tears – not in a sad way, but just in reaction to the overwhelming beauty of it. There was no sign of a hymn book or a service sheet, but every person seemed to know the words, presumably through practice, as one song seamlessly morphed into another.

As the vicar (father? pastor?) entered, the voices grew quiet as he reflected on the previous week’s sermon – he asked if anyone had been thinking about it and had any questions, then referred us to sections of the bible and asked specific questions about those passages. One which particularly stuck in my mind was this: the bible says that believers will have eternal life, and that unrepentant sinners will have eternal punishment. But surely they must also have eternal life in order to be eternally punished? This really made me reflect on the meaning of the phrase ‘eternal life’ – although I would consider myself to have Christian faith, I believe it essential to really think deeply about what I am putting my faith in rather than just to blindly accept.

More singing followed this period of consideration – this time accompanied by a talented young man who spontaneously played along on a keyboard, accompanied by the piano’s pre-programmed beats. Usually this wouldn’t be my cup of tea – I’m not generally a fan of the cheesy drum sounds that are set into keyboards – but for some reason in this setting and with the overlapping vocal melodies, it sounded exactly right.

The actual sermon I found a little overpowering. The vicar was hugely passionate, which is in some ways a wonderful thing, but after an extended period of listening to his full-volume speech, I found it hard to focus and was wishing for the more calm, meditative preaching I am used to. But each to their own, I suppose. The message is still the same.

One thing about the church community was that they were exceptionally friendly. The vicar said that although we were visitors here, we should not feel as such in this community – we should treat it as our home. After the service, everyone shook hands and the vicar had a chat with us and took down our email addresses: he said it would be his honour to co-ordinate with Wilson and invite us over for dinner one evening. Dinner with the vicar, what next?!

The rest of our day was spent sunbathing and reading, and Eva attempted to hand wash some of her clothes. 

(she reckons if the Zambian men had seen this, they might not be quite so quick with their marriage proposals...)

Dinner by candlelight (still no power at that point) consisted of leftover potato salad, bananas and bran flakes with milk. Although neither of us usually eat burgers, that is what our cravings have manifested themselves as today; what I wouldn’t give to be in the Camden American Diner…

Goodnight all, and Happy Fathers’ Day Dad! Have a steak on me. Loads of love.