Children’s Church!

The church at Maforga is made up of missionaries and orphans. Several workers and local residents come as well, but it’s predominantly orphans. As such, it is more like children’s church thank anything else.

We typically start at 10 am to allow everyone time to come. Brightly colored children who just hours before were hauling water from the nearby pump, are now clean and pressed and ready to sing.

And oh do they sing!

The first hour or two is spent doing just that. Forget about singing just one or two songs! No. Here they clap and dance and sway to their tiny heart’s desire. And often anyone is allowed to pick the next song.

Once one praise song is over, another happy, warbling soprano from the back of the room pipes up. I often turn to see who this tiny voice belongs to, only to discover a pint sized orphan in braids. 

She sings the first line of the song in a strained high-pitched melody, then the rest of the room booms in a raucous echo. A new song has begun.

Mostly they sing in Portuguese, but sometimes they belt out praise in Shona (or Chitewe... I’m not sure yet). Every now and again, they’ll switch to English.

And when they do... familiar songs rattle about my ears with surprising freshness. It’s startling to find the song reinterpreted with African rhythms. I like it.



After the singing comes the testimonies and prayer. This is when anyone with a burden on their heart stands before the church to share what God has done for them this week... or informs the church about important prayers.

One week little Carolina (a girl of about 7 or 8) stood before us saying, “I was very sick last week with malaria. We almost had to send me to Zimbabwe. But you prayed and I am now well. Thank you Jesus!” Then she sang a song of praise in a haunting voice that stirred our hearts and silenced the room.

Wow.

After the testimonies the tithe is taken by placing a grass woven basket in the front of the room. Those who have a heart to give, do so with joy.

Last week, instead of money one of the local women offered a large sac of ground millet as her offering. It was so heavy she hefted it up slowly to bring it forward, then propped it next to the basket as we sang.

Once the offering has been taken, someone preaches. So far it has been one of three different men --all of whom speak fluent Portuguese. Nevertheless, there is always an English translator for visitors like me.

We are typically finished by around 1 pm. We say our goodbyes, then head off in our various directions for lunch.

After one service, there was such a joyous Spirit that no one wanted to go home. Many stayed to dance and sing some more. I caught a little of it on video. Enjoy!

(Note: video to come shortly if I can get youtube to work.)

Drum & Dance.

In addition to lots of rest and relaxation, Rumbek has afforded me some fun new experiences. My favorite so far has to be dancing with the Jurbel tribe.

My first Saturday here I went to Freedom square with some friends to watch the drum circles and the traditional dances. On this particular day, there happened to be a dozen or so Jurbel women dancing from the Wullu region.

Their dances were different than the Dinka’s jumping and the Bongo’s swaying. It was choreographed. Lined up in a circle, they all faced the same direction and chanted. As they sang, they stomped out a steady rhythm with their feet. Arms cupped to the sky they rocked back and forth.

I asked to join them (which may have been irregular, I’m not sure). But once they realized I was serious, they laughed and started teaching me the moves.

To dance properly, however, I needed props. So they adorned me with a band of cloth tied in the crux of my left arm, and a plastic traditional bracelet for the other.

The cloth band played an important role in the dance --as I was soon to discover. It was used to swat at the other dancers in a mock battle. One would attack with the cloth and the other would evade it, then go stomping on in unison.

This was the dance.

There is no way my dancing could be described as good, but I must admit I enjoyed it tremendously. I could not stop laughing at how fun it was to “fight” these women. They laughed with me --obviously amused at my lack of skills.



But after a few minutes of this, I realized I was disrupting their show and I said goodbye. In parting, they laughed and slapped hands with me. And I handed back their bands and bracelets.

One woman, came up to me as I was about to leave and thanked me for dancing. Then in appreciation, she offered me a ring.

Fortunately, my friends did not know how to work the video on my camera; so my dancing was never recorded.
    -- Euff! So glad I dodged that bullet.

But they did take a few pictures.

Sigh.

It’s times like this that make me never want to leave.

I love Sudan.

Hope this video works:

South Sudan's Independence Video

Here is a link to the video of the dancing in Tonj done to celebrate South Sudan's Independence on July 9th 2011.

Bongo party!

For a week, I’ve woken to bongo drums pounding out a steady beat as processions marched the streets, clapping and singing in unison. One of the celebrants owns an old bugle and plays it as loud as he can-- off-key but joyful. I heartily approve despite the sometimes early start (5 am is reserved for sleeping in my book!).

But hey... joyful noise is joyful noise. Right?

Early on, it was only Christmas songs. But now, I’m told they are singing to announce the Bishop’s arrival. As I type these words, I can hear the drums reverberating deep hollow echos of steady beats. Very African.

Yesterday, in a festive mood, Sabet gathered some of the staff to participate in one of the many celebrations going on around town. We arrived too late for one party, featuring special dancing. But we made it in time to another one. This one was a Bongo celebration.

Almost immediately, we ran into one of our translators, Dongau. He was thrilled we’d come to his tribes’ party and got us dancing in the circle. It was fun with the steady beats and relaxed rhythms.

In the center of the dance circle crouched three men bent earnestly over drums. A fourth blew melancholy wails into a hollowed tree trunk, a foot wide. It reminded me of the hypnotic echos of a didgeridoo and relaxed me immediately.

The Bongo tribe dances with slow, undulating movements. They sway and divot compared to the spastic jumping and constant stomping done by the Dinka.

Karaoke! Dokey!

These people are remarkably musical! They LOVE karaoke… No joke! You can hear Karaoke at all hours of the day. Practically every mom and pops store or coffee shop has one! Some people can really sing here! Some should definitely not! It’s wonderful living in a place where music is so enjoyed! I find it amazing at the number of people who play musical instruments! I can take a random poll and ¾ of the group can pick up a guitar and lead worship! WoW!

I’m humbled by their abilities too… it’s not like me pinging away at a string… we are talking talent! It’s not only songs they love… they love to dance too! Everywhere I turn there seems to be a group of youngsters doing ‘hip-hop’ dance to some song or another! It’s all very detailed and coordinated! I went to a church and the youth got up and danced ‘hip-hop’ to worship songs!

I went to a department store and a troop was dancing their hearts out for a promo on cutlery. You just don’t see people dancing like that back home! :- )