easter sunday 2013 will live long in my
memory. i celebrated by attending church in a neighbouring village, about an
hour from where i’ve been staying in mwandi village, zambia. my good friend
pastor percy told me i should bring my guitar ‘just in case’ they asked me to
sing. i’ve come to accept that whenever i go to church in africa i need to be
prepared to sing...or preach...or do both.
we arrived just as the service started, and
so began a 5 hour celebration of easter. i tried to keep up with the manic
dancing and singing as best as i could, but 3 hours in i found that i was
exhausted, busting to go to the toilet, and in desperate need of some fresh
air. nobody had asked me to sing yet, and one of my other friends was
preaching, so it seemed as though i had dodged a bullet. i quietly snuck
outside to find a ‘toilet’ and then stood under a beautiful tree enjoying a
cool breeze.
before long, i heard the pastor speaking
over the crackly, too-loud pa system.
“and
now sister kt will lead us in worship.”
i had not been forgotten after all. i ran
back to the building, slipped on a mat on my way in and almost ended up in
the lap of a massive, toothless woman. good start wallis. i quickly grabbed my
guitar and tried to remember the chords to a few songs. standing in front of
the congregation, i began to play and sing. people were yelling and clapping
and i found it difficult to sing through my smile.
in the middle of my first song a beautiful
zambian woman came to offer me a gift as i played. she had a vase/jug with a giant
wooden ladle and spoon inside it and as i played she was trying to balance it
on my shoulder. i wasn’t quite sure what to do so i just kept on smiling and
singing and allowing her to jam the vase into my neck. she eventually gave up –
realising that my white-person balancing act was not in the same league as that
of a zambian, with their ability to dance, sing, hold a baby and balance 23
litres of water on their head all at once – and placed the gift at my feet
instead.
 |
| re-enacting the madness |
they wouldn’t let me stop playing so i
stretched out my two songs and made them last about 20 minutes. at one point
another lady came to offer a gift. she put her hand inside my shirt and stuffed
some money in my bra. again, i found it difficult to sing through my
smile...and i lamented over the fact that nobody in australia ever puts money
in my bra when i sing. i feel as though this might be one of the secrets to getting more people into the church:-)
i pray that your easter was as full of
treats as mine was.
