Komunyo

8/5

There is only one week left in our stay in Arusha, and I still had not gone to a Tanzanian church service! On our drive out to coffee plantations one day I saw a gorgeous yellow church, so I decided that would be a safe bet for a Sunday morning service. I thought St. Peters 8am service was early, but the only Sunday service this Roman Catholic church had was 7am! It was a nice looking church that I knew I would be safe at if I went alone (the guys enjoy their sleep above cultural experiences), so I sucked it up and woke up at 6am to make it to the service in time via dala dala. 5 minutes before the service began, the dala dala still had not left the stand (surprise surprise). I ran out and got a taxi to get to church on time.

I knew we were getting close when I saw large groups of people dressed in Sunday attire walking down the dirt roads. We arrived promptly at 7 and I was amazed to find the church packed with people (and more still arriving). Once I found a seat, I estimated there was an impressive 400 people crammed in to the church. The entire service was in Swahili, but I proudly recognized a word every five minutes. There was a lot of clapping during the singing, and the music was more upbeat than most church services I have attended in the states. The music was like St. Peter's 10am service on crack and with an African twist, which I had expected. When we prayed, we knelt on wooden benches (ouch) and the children were extremely well behaved (even the babies). I do not know how best to describe it, but more or less Tanzanian mothers are less patient than American mothers with their children when it comes to misbehaving.

At one point, everyone got out of their pews and lined up to go up to the altar, so of course  I, the mzungu without a clue what was being said, assumed it was communion and lined up too. When I got to the front I realized it was offering and I was supposed to have brought up money with me. Yes, I was that msungu who went up to offering and gave nothing. And yes, I was that person who was so embarrassed she stuck her hand inside the offertory box and pretended to place money inside. It was embarrassing and I am sorry I couldn't have donated something for the service, but I sure as heck wasn't going to go back to my pew to get money and go back up to the altar just so the church could make an extra buck! I'll admit, I have too much pride for that one.

Overall it was a lovely service and I was excited to know some of the prayers (mainly because during Communion prayer they used the same songs only translated to Swahili). I made it a personal goal to attend a religious service in every country I visit for the future, since the cultural additions I noticed in this Tanzanian service were beautiful.