Spending a Night in the Village

It was dark when we rolled into the village: we stepped out of the van and marveled at the multitude of visible stars sparkling across the equatorial sky. There lay the Southern Cross, indicated by the bright stars of the Centaur; there was the familiar dipper, pointing to a north star that was obscured by the outlines of huts; and over there was a satellite making its slow faint way among the galaxies.

As soon as we turned our faces back to earth – but wait, who were “we”? “We” were African Christians who’ve brought the Gospel to this small village within the past three months, winning approximately 30 converts from the Muslim population, joined by American Christians (except for me, the Americans are a short-term team from a Christian university). The Americans handed out glow sticks to the children while the Africans set up a generator, a laptop, a projector, and a screen. Then everyone was seated while portions of two Christian films were played: an African praise production, followed by excerpts from “The Passion of the Christ,” with translation services compliments of one of our brothers and a microphone. =)

(Quick aside: do you realize that at any point Jesus could have given up? He had the power to command legions of angels to fight, but He chose to drink the cup to its bitter dregs for YOU! For ME! And do you realize in your heart that no further expiation for sin is necessary? He completely paid the price on our behalf through His sufferings. Wow! Please pray that the hearts of the others watching would be similarly impressed!)

One young woman who has been involved in this church plant agreed with me that it seemed more than 100 people were in attendance. The audience gave the films rapt attention, then got up and sang and danced for a little while, not at all in a hurry. (Africans rarely are.) I was able to sing along with one of the songs I’d learned in their language, and a woman nearby overheard me, and came closer to make sure that yes indeed, the words were coming from me. Then she burst out laughing and called the attention of several other women, until I was laughing so hard I could no longer sing. =D

At last it was time to prepare for bed; but this was a village-wide activity! Our group was to spend the night under a tree – the locals simply call it a “shade tree” – and the whole crowd followed along to surround us while we set up our mosquito net protection, laid out our sleeping pads, etc. They were laughing, pointing, chattering, full of curiosity and good humor, though it was past 11:00. Eventually we crawled fully clothed into the tents (I got to share a tent with my African sister, “Anna”), feeling very much like fish on display in an aquarium; but if everyone was happy, why fret? At long last people realized there would be nothing new to see, and began to fade into the night.

Picture of our hotel, taken the next morning

Inside our hotel: mosquito nets hang from tree branches (though mine is a stand-alone tent)