You Heard That Right: The RAs Go To Church

On Saturday one of our beloved 16 year old students, Jen, invited us to attend her baptism. In the usual T.I.A. fashion, everything from attempting to show up on time to the follow-up afterwards led to a series of mini-adventures, some quite beautiful, most ridiculous.

We had been told that the church was in Kimironko "by the mosque." We had no idea where it was, and the moto-taxi driver informed us it was actually in Kybagabaga which, due entirely to its name, is RA1s favorite place on earth. When we got to the mosque we started wandering into churches looking for Jen - "Jen ari hehe?" and "Baptism of Jen ari hehe?" - with minimal success. Finally we wandered back up to Kimironko and ran smack into Jen herself, who was looking for us (thank the sweet Rwandan Lord, although we still cannot determine WHY, not that we care). We met Jen's mother and hopped on a bus to Nyabagogo and then on moto-taxis to take us up into the mountains (two notes: the baptism was NOWHERE NEAR THE MOSQUE, thanks, and we spent a lot of time on motos that day). We got about halfway up the mountain when all the motos stopped and Jen's mother got off and began arguing with them. The words "amafaranga" and "nyangahe" were tossed around, leading us to conclude that because of the extremely steep terrain, they were asking for more money. In response, Jen's mother walked off with a purposeful stride, still carrying the moto helmet, until the men in desperation agreed to do what they had agreed to do in the first place, and we all got back on our motos. The trek was so steep that in parts we all, drivers included, had to get off and walk the bikes up the hill, which has never happened in the three months we have been here. But the view was spectacular. We walking along a gushing river, staring at the most beautiful green vistas imaginable. When we got to the top we found a crowd of people and, weirdly, a photographer, and in one of the usual weirdly surreal Rwandan moments, found a crowd of people insisting on having their picture taken with us. Occasionally a woman would throw one of us her baby, adjust her outfit, reclaim her child, smile for the camera, and wander off.

After a few minutes of this and several phone calls, Jen's mother concluded that we were in the wrong place.

Jen and RA1 got on a moto TOGETHER, another new and interesting moto feat for the day, and sped back off to the very bottom of the mountain to make it to Jen's Baptism, while RA2 and Jen's mom went for a long walk. Halfway down, the moto returned, RA2 presumed, to carry her and Jen's mother back down to meet them. But no. The moto, having not negotiated the price upfront, wanted an exorbitant amount of money, and not having gotten said exorbitant amount from Jen and RA1, had come back up the mountain to try his luck with the other muzungu.

By the time RA2 and Jen's mother got down the mountain, Jen was good and baptised. RA1 watched as the Pastor dunked Jen, fully clothed, under a wide and gushing river, true Come-to-Jesus style, and asked her afterwards, "Are you happy?" Jen smiled beatifically, "I am very happy," then smacked her lips, frowned, and said, "That water is very bad."

Afterwards one of the three church pastors, a woman, invited the RAs to attend the service following the baptisms. One bus ride and a moto later, we arrived at the actual church, which was, in fact, quite near the mosque. A terrifically energetic preacher, appearing to have The Spirit coming through him in vast quantities, ranted, prayed, cajoled and extolled, frequently emitting a full-bodied "HALLELUJAH" followed by the congregation's equally heartfelt "AMEN!" At intervals, the entire church would get up out of their chairs and dance with unrivaled enthusiasm, occasionally dropping to the floor in unison to pray for their specific names. The no-less passionate but slightly more controlled pastor would then rise and, praying in both English and Kinyarwandan , would explain the Kingdom of God, which apparently asks for your energy, your time, your power and your money (in an odd stroke of weird, we heard her giving the same sermon on the radio this morning over breakfast). Some version of this went on for several hours until RA2, late and hungry, quietly excused herself.

RA1 stayed to witness what was clearly the highlight of the day: a Rwandan exorcism. At some point roughly 4 hours into the service (not joking) two of the pastors went over to a woman lying on the floor and began shaking her violently and praying. The man next to RA1, who had been translating, looked at her thoughtfully and said, "She has a demon," then returned to watching the events unfold. As the pastors went on shaking and praying until RA1 feared they might actually break the woman's ribs, the man would sometimes turn and comment thoughtfully, "They are getting the devil out of her," or "Yes, she has a demon."

In summation, we have truly never seen Jen so happy. When she sings and dances she is a completely different person. This country desperately needs extracurricular activities.