Alahody
Sunday church is normally an uneventful occasion, but this weeks' service was so much fun I have to write about it.
Starting at the beginning...
After a week of introducing myself as Betany I remembered my name was in the Bible as the home of Lazarus, so I looked up the town of Bethany in my Malagasy Bible to find that it was written Betania. It just so happens Betania is the town next to Sakama were I live, and the home of my neighbor and uncle's family church. They invited me to join them for their 7:00 am Sunday service and that's when the fun began.
As the mother and their two children and I piled onto a pous, one kid on each of our laps, I remembered that the father said he was a Sunday school teacher and therefore, was probably already at church. After being dropped off in the village we walked along the fenced in dirt path ways towards the church.
Having arrived after the service started, but just before 7:00, the mother found me a plastic chair and set me in the room off the front stage, and that's when the fun began. I was quickly brought on stage to sit with the elders. Having experienced this in another African country I wasn't too surprise. Once I realized I was behind the podiums and stage railings, out of the line of sight of most of the congregation I felt a little better. After standing for Scriptire reading and then sitting to sing I looked up to find my Uncle behind the organ playing for the congregation. As I excitedly waves at him he smiled at my recognition. Soon his two small children joined him near the organ and as the church took the offering his two year old son began to wonder off stage. Figuring It was as good of time as and to give my donation I scooped up the little one on my way back and bounced Him in my lap. Before the conclusion of the service there was a baby dedication and eventually we all filed out to the sound of the organ.
After catching a pous we attempted to reach the main road only to find we were too heavy to get up the hill. I had to laugh when they had me get out and walk behind them until we crossed over the humps.
Following an after church quick nap I went in search of my favorite Malagasy treat of breaded and fried bananas only to learn they don't make them in my town. As I neared my home I crossed paths with both my sister and aunt out shopping. It became clear to me why when I ventured out after lunch only to find most of the market empty. I seems they take the day of rest seriously here and so I decided to follow suit...
Starting at the beginning...
After a week of introducing myself as Betany I remembered my name was in the Bible as the home of Lazarus, so I looked up the town of Bethany in my Malagasy Bible to find that it was written Betania. It just so happens Betania is the town next to Sakama were I live, and the home of my neighbor and uncle's family church. They invited me to join them for their 7:00 am Sunday service and that's when the fun began.
As the mother and their two children and I piled onto a pous, one kid on each of our laps, I remembered that the father said he was a Sunday school teacher and therefore, was probably already at church. After being dropped off in the village we walked along the fenced in dirt path ways towards the church.
Having arrived after the service started, but just before 7:00, the mother found me a plastic chair and set me in the room off the front stage, and that's when the fun began. I was quickly brought on stage to sit with the elders. Having experienced this in another African country I wasn't too surprise. Once I realized I was behind the podiums and stage railings, out of the line of sight of most of the congregation I felt a little better. After standing for Scriptire reading and then sitting to sing I looked up to find my Uncle behind the organ playing for the congregation. As I excitedly waves at him he smiled at my recognition. Soon his two small children joined him near the organ and as the church took the offering his two year old son began to wonder off stage. Figuring It was as good of time as and to give my donation I scooped up the little one on my way back and bounced Him in my lap. Before the conclusion of the service there was a baby dedication and eventually we all filed out to the sound of the organ.
As we exited the church and walked the dirt paths we soon came to the home of one of their relatives where we stopped to be introduced and chat a minute. As we headed out of the quiet village, lined with small straw and tin huts full of people just waking up, it felt like the perfect start to a Sunday.
After catching a pous we attempted to reach the main road only to find we were too heavy to get up the hill. I had to laugh when they had me get out and walk behind them until we crossed over the humps.
Following an after church quick nap I went in search of my favorite Malagasy treat of breaded and fried bananas only to learn they don't make them in my town. As I neared my home I crossed paths with both my sister and aunt out shopping. It became clear to me why when I ventured out after lunch only to find most of the market empty. I seems they take the day of rest seriously here and so I decided to follow suit...
Thanks for sharing your Sunday experience and the great pictures. What is a "pous?" By the way, in the 1950s, I remember stores were closed on the Lord's day. The change came around the early 1960s when they took prayer out of school and that affected a lot. Blessings, Betania! Corkey
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