Thoughts on Visiting a Local Church

Yesterday I had the opportunity to go to a church here in Musoma. This was my third church visit, to different places each time, depending on whom I went with. The visits are usually neat experiences, but very draining.

This one was a good example. One reason the experience can be draining is pure mental exhaustion. To listen to rapid Swahili with comprehension over a long period of time requires sustained, intense concentration. At least, for me it does! As I listened to the various opening items, I wondered if I was really too tired for this outing this particular day. The building was not large, but there were still plenty of distracting noises from without and within. A couple nice soft-spoken ladies were particularly difficult to understand. Sometimes going to church is really motivating for me, in terms of Swahili learning, and sometimes it's just discouraging. This was looking like one of the discouraging days!

I am proud of one accomplishment. Regardless of which church or denomination you attend, visitors are always expected to stand and introduce themselves. On my first church visit in Musoma I flew under the radar by including myself in my friends' introductions. On my second I just didn't stand up, partly because I didn't know the proper greeting and was scared, and partly because my mind was already waging a losing war for sanity against the church's booming speaker system. This time I was ready. You start by saying, "Mungu asifiwe," which means "God be praised." Ironically, I'm not sure if I said it or not, bacause my friend Hazel thankfully initiated the introduction for her two guests. I'd heard the word for guests several times before that part of the service and was pretty confused as to which was my cue! Anyway, with her help, I managed it.

Evidently the service was not exactly typical for this church. With no electricity--and therefore no synchronized beat from the keyboard--the choir seemed less than enthusiastic. They sang a couple songs, but to my incredulity they sang standing stock still. They didn't move at all. Usually choirs here accompany each song with choreographed dancing; they're really neat to watch. This choir was not completely denied--the power came back on during the service and they sang again after the sermon. Meanwhile, I really enjoyed seeing what happened before the sermon while the electricity was still off. Several small groups went up front and did impromtu performances. A handful of women did a couple songs at different times, and once a whole line of young guys sang. These were mostly call-response style. Also, I should add that we in the congregation also sang a few songs. (This practice is not universal in Tanzanian churches, nor are lyrics always available. In this location families come to church with their own copies of a Swahili song booklet.) I was excited when we turned to the final song: How Great Thou Art. I really like to hear it in Swahili.

The sermon was remarkable in that it was given by a woman, the first time I'd seen that in Tanzania. The church has a rotation of speakers, and you never know who will be preaching. Unfortunately the power came back on right as she was getting started. Before she was scarcely audible. Now the distortion from the microphone was so bad, she was incomprehensible to a novice Swahili speaker like myself. Already discouraged, I admit I pretty much gave up. I did try to find the scripture passage in my Swahili Bible. During a previous responsive reading i had discovered that the congregation uses a different translation than the one I have. I was trying to listen to the New King James and follow along in the New Living, so to speak, and not in my own language. That's beyond me, I decided. But if I can't understand the preacher, at least I can read from the right spot. Or so I thought. I turned to John 3 but never heard Nicodemus' name mentioned once. Later I learned the sermon was taken from the book of Jonah ("Yona" as opposed to "Yohane"... remember, I couldn't hear well!). :)

Then there are the small things that monopolize your attention. In churches here I often see people laying their heads in their arms, resting on the backs of the simple wooden "pews" in front of them. The services are long, after all! (This one went three hours--not customary, but not unheard of, either.) When the lady behind me decided she was ready to relax in this way, I didn't take it personally, knowing that personal space is understood very differently in this culture. Still, there was only half an inch of board upon which she could position her arms. So as she tried to get comfortable I was effectively nudged slightly forward, my back rest at times elbowing me gently. I could have sat forward, I suppose, but I too was tired and desired the back support. I knew she wasn't being rude, and from then on I devoted a significant amount of my limited concertration toward not taking offence.

One more note of interest: A business item at the end helped to extend the service time. The church has taken upon itself the responsibility of paying the school fees for a couple students. (Decent schools are usually private ones. The government school are packed beyond overflowing and offer little hope of getting into college.) Since the church had not yet collected the funds necessary, the congragation was asked to make pledges. Various members stood and commited to certain amounts, and this continued until the total was reached. Then the service was brought to a close.

As usual, I was glad I went, even though I was exhausted. (I'm very thankful for resources like online sermons; I couldn't manage these trips every week!) Sometimes I wonder if I will ever truly feel at home here in Tanzania. To some extent I think I will (and am beginning to already), but realistically I imagine that I will never quite lose my outsider status. It's hard to feel like a perpetual visitor. As I sat in the church mulling over these things, I determined once again to keep pushing against the boundaries of my comfort zone, to keep going to churches and doing other things to intentionally be around people in their environment, to keep working on Swahili... If I can do those things, I believe I will become more and more comfortable living in Tanzania.