Church

Here in Dodoma, we often attend the short English service at the cathedral on Sunday mornings, with the advantage of being able to understand what is going on around us! The service is sandwiched between 2 Kiswahili services, which are very well attended and full of vibrant music, with everyone decked out in their smart Sunday best.

The congregation exit one of the Kiswahili services:

Inside the church, colourful wall hangings behind the altar denote the different festivals of the church calendar and are eye-arresting with their bright colours and ribbons:

However, this Sunday, since we were out of town, we decided to attend the village church in the village of Mlanga, next to the Theological College where our Guesthouse was situated. The service was all in Swahili, so we knew we would have to concentrate hard and that the children may grow a little restless, without understanding what was being said around them. But we stayed as long as we could, leaving some time before the end of the service when Ben piped up, nice and loudly, after almost an hour and a half, "Can I go home now Mummy? MUMMY! Let's go hoooome! HOME!! I want to go home!!"

The service was still in progress as we left Mlanga Anglican church:

We had a lovely morning. There were 2 choirs leading the music, their rich and effortless singing raising the wooden rafters under the tin roof. Like the cathedral, there was a large cloth backdrop behind the altar. The cloth was a vibrant green, with a large white cross in the centre. It made a striking contrast with the lively, colourful clothes worn by choir members: bright pinks, purple, one lady in an orange kanga, reds, blues, yellows and different shades of green. As the singers danced to the music with gentle, fluid movements, we sat on our back wooden pew and enjoyed their wonderful music. We joined in with the clapping to show our appreciation, but sadly could not join in with fellow congregation members with their very African ululating...

After the announcements, it was time for us to stand, in true Tanzanian style, to introduce ourselves as "wageni"- or strangers/guests. Andrew did a great job, introducing us all in Swahili and we were given a warm and friendly welcome.

However, we could not use Swahili to participate in the service when it came to the prayer time, creed or hymns, since this was a village church where oral tradition is still strong, and people join in because they have learnt the words by memory. There was no projector to beam the words up for us all to follow- and hymn books are owned by congregation members, rather than being handed out to be borrowed for the service like we are used to in England.

Other differences I have noticed in Tanzanian churches we have visited since we arrived in the country is that Tanzanian children are often so contained and manage to sit so quietly through even long services! This is a huge cultural difference- and for me, as a mother of 2 energetic little ones, it is very noticeable!

There are also cultural mistakes that I have made a couple of times, including this morning: namely, walking into church and sitting on the right-hand side, only to suddenly become aware that I am sitting on the side which is mostly men, whereas women and children tend to sit on the left. The other "faux pas" I made today was to enter the church without my Bible. Most Tanzanians I have seen carefully carry their Bibles to church and I felt bad for forgetting mine. Linguistically, it would also have been useful, so that I could at least follow the readings, as the pastor kindly noted our white faces at the back of his church today and translated the Bible references into English for us, so that we could keep up with reading the passage in our home language. I was embarrassed at my negligence, but have made a mental note for our next Swahili service that we attend...