Speeches, speeches

Usually, weekends here pass slowly with little activity apart from chores on Saturday and church on Sunday.  This weekend was different.

I woke on Saturday morning feeling that I must do something.  I called a friend who is a locally based missionary from the US hoping I could visit.  He sounded distinctly stressed on the phone.  He told me that this was graduation day for his pastor training centre and he would be very busy, but I was welcome to come and join them.  He and his wife have three young children who keep them very busy in addition to their mission responsibilities.  For some reason these children have latched onto me and adopted me as a surrogate grandmother after only meeting me for the first time a few weeks ago.  I find it very puzzling that I do not have this effect on children in the UK, but find myself an unconscious Pied Piper of Hamelin both to these children and those at Cornerstone.  It must be something in the water.

I got on a boda, which is the nearest thing to public transport in Nimule.  A boda is a privately owned motorcycle on which passengers ride pillion.  Eddie’s mission church is in the bush, only accessible by very rough, muddy tracks.  The boda driver contended with a large herd of cattle on the way, picking his way around ruts large enough to have destroyed the motorcycle, while I tried (and failed) to sit serenely as all the local women do, eventually giving up on my dignity and clutching onto the driver’s shoulders for dear life.

When I arrived, I found the mission church decorated with balloons and coloured paper, and the walls covered in texts from scripture all on the theme of the love of God.  The church was full of local families waiting with eager anticipation for the long speeches which accompany all occasions here.  They were not disappointed.  The ceremony started over an hour late, with a procession of the graduate pastors, in full academic robes, dancing into the church, singing as they came.  Then the speeches began, and continued ….. for a very long time.  My friend was succinct, but nobody else was.

The three children on another occasion

Then it was time to feed the many mouths in a serious logistical operation.  My friend's wife was asked to help serve food.  This was very difficult for her because of the competing demands of her little ones.  Luckily I was able to step in and take over the older two children.  This was amusing, as the eldest, is at the ‘dangers’ stage and very keen to talk about the extreme dangers of all sorts of things from tornadoes to bats.  The more teeth an animal has the better.  I have fond memories of my son at a similar age and stage, when he had a dinosaur obsession.  The younger sister is far more placid and was keen for me to experience the soft hug her teddy bear was able to give me.  The baby remained with his mother.  The food was local, including three goats, killed the day before.  They were deliciously tender.  The children had inadvertently witnessed the slaughter, but were clearly far less worried by the experience than their mother.  When it was time to leave, Emily thanked me profusely for looking after the children.  I was pleased to have something to do, and really enjoyed myself so it was no hardship.  When I returned to Cornerstone, I went to my room to find a bevy of children wanting to learn English, play the recorder or draw. 

On Sunday the whole town had been invited to a wedding at the Seventh Day Adventist Church.  According to the invitation the ceremony started at 9am.  Knowing from experience that this would be a time plucked from the air I went to 9am Mass first.  Afterwards I went to visit someone.  Finally at 1pm I went to the wedding.  The church was full, with large numbers of people outside too.  Ushers found a seat for me in the church.  It was extremely hot under the metal roof.  Speeches were in full swing and continued for another two hours, before the actual ceremony.  I was so glad I was four hours late!

Afterwards I was tired and looked forward to a quiet evening when I returned, but it was not to be.  The Pied Piper effect was still in evidence.  A repeat of Saturday evening occurred as large numbers of children appeared as if by magic, all wanting a bit of time with me for English, music or drawing.

Later on, one of the older boys asked about my day.  I mentioned the long speeches at the wedding.  It turned out that he had been there too.  He was wildly enthusiastic and grinned broadly at the memory of the length of the speeches.  I have to come to the conclusion that excitement over lengthy speeches is one of the peculiarities of the South Sudanese temperament.  I wonder if it is because, being such a poor country, it is a way to feel that they have had their money’s worth, without any cost.  Maybe, maybe not.