When my friend encountered this patient a couple of days
ago, he had finished recovering from the second surgery and was about ready to
go home again. He looked great, and he
was so pleased. He didn't know how he
was going to pay for the trip home, but he was confident that the Lord would
cook up something. Can you imagine
living with moment-to-moment faith like that?
Can you imagine not having $2.00 to your name, with a life-changing
surgery hanging in the balance? I can't
even wrap my mind around what it would be like to live at that level of
poverty.
The story sounds so melodramatic... and really, it
is. The tumors here really are that
melodramatic, and so is the poverty. People get these tumors at home, too, but
they are dealt with when they're tiny, and it's no big deal. We have a level of health care and social
services, even for the indigent, that essentially precludes this scenario from
happening at home...and yet, it is not at all unusual here. I'm just glad Mercy Ships can help some of
these folks, and glad I get to play a part in it.
M
18 May 2013
The wedding
Ramata, one of our translators in Admissions, was married
today, and we were all invited. It has
been a drama for weeks, because her father has not been happy about this
marriage. Ramata is Christian, but her
family is Muslim. Ramata wanted to marry
a Christian man in a Christian ceremony; Papa was offended. He canceled the wedding twice before, and now
he threatened to cancel it again. Ramata
agreed to a Muslim wedding, then planned to have a Christian wedding before the
reception the next day. She tried to
keep it a secret, but Papa found out, and another fracas ensued. An older man, friend of the family,
apparently intervened to calm Papa down; he was the one who gave the bride
away. Papa didn't come, but at least he allowed the wedding to
proceed.
The fun started some time back with the wedding
attire. Ramata picked a fabric for us
all to use in having our wedding dresses made.
It was quite colorful--all yellow and orange and brown and black and
white in a busy pattern. Definitely
distinctive. There were probably a dozen
people dressed in this fabric, but each with her own dress design and finishing
touches. From Mercy Ships, five of us
set out, walking through the port to the taxi place. We caused quite a stir, dressed alike in
African garb. A couple of the police
even wanted to take our pictures!
The wedding was scheduled for 12:00, with reception to
follow. The church was an hour away--or
half an hour, or two hours...depending on traffic. We left at 10:45 to meet the taxi at
11:00. He came at 11:30.We arrived at the
church at 12:45...but not to worry, we were among the first guests to
arrive.
The church was small, maybe 15 x 20 feet, with a side
room of maybe 15 x 15. Fully packed, it
held about 30 people. While we waited,
the electric keyboard player entertained us with "Jingle Bells",
"Take Me Out to the Ball Game", "Oh, Christmas Tree", and
other familiar tunes.
Actually, I think they were pre-programmed into the
machine by the manufacturer, and he just triggered them to play for us. Next, they hauled in a huge amplifier and
sound mixer equipment...that was a clue for things to come.
At 1:30, five women got up and started to sing, all with
microphones amped to the max, because we could hardly hear them over the full
drum set, the African drum, the African gourd shaker, and electronic keyboard
that accompanied them. They sang a song
for 45 minutes. A song, not songs. Well, actually, five women began the singing,
but various people came and took a turn leading. African worship songs tend to be responsive,
with a lead singer singing a phrase and the group singing it back to him. The same phrase, over and over. With enthusiasm. Loudly.
Accompanied with
swaying and mild dancing. It was a rock
concert, African style. They take their
worship seriously--but joyfully.
Around 2:15, the ceremonies began, sort of. Various pastors were introduced and greeted
at length. One offered a prayer; another
preached for half an hour. He preached
in English, but between the accent and the distortion from amplification, I
couldn't understand a word he said.
Everything was translated into French, phrase by phrase, also at full
volume.
By 3:00, the bride and groom had arrived, so the wedding
proper could begin. It was conducted in
English, with translation, and actually was quite similar to what we have at
home. Same vows, exchange of rings,
wedding kiss, confetti as they left, etc.
And yet, it wasn't all solomn and "proper" like it would have
been at home. The pastor was teasing the
groom and everyone seemed to be having a good time. It felt unrehersed, and probably was. After the ceremony, when it was time for the
couple to leave, the groom started off down the aisle without the bride...he
forgot her. No problem...a few laughs,
and off they went.
Sometime after 4:00, we all packed into cars to travel to
the reception.
Ramata had told us
it was close, walking distance. We drove
at least five miles to get there. Sure
glad I didn't opt to walk! We didn't
stay long at the reception. More loud
music, so you couldn't talk to anyone.
They planned to serve food, but it would probably have been hours later, after the walkers arrived. We were all hot, tired, hungry, and full up to our ears with loud music, so we
left before the reception got properly underway.
Going back to the ship, there were six of us piled into a
taxi. That, apparently, was illegal, so
one had to lie down across our laps and one lay behind the back seat, trying to
look invisible. But, hey, we were all
dressed in the same fabric, so we blended together quite nicely.
None of the police even looked twice as we passed.
A quick supper, a shower, a two hour nap, and several
glasses of water later, I am fully recovered.
I think that Ramata was blessed by our coming, and I am very glad I
went...but I wouldn't like to attend a wedding every weekend! It is definitely an all-day affair, and quite
tiring, with the heat and the noise. But
wow! When they celebrate, these Africans
really do it up brown, as my mother would say.
I was reminded of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", feeling a bit
like the stiff, somber parents of the groom caught up in the raucous Greek
wedding crowd of the bride. Bottom
line...it was "different," but it was fun.
M
