Protests and Church

Today we had to take the road less traveled to work. Meaning, the narrow roads of poured lava, in between houses, in back neighborhoods and evading bicycles and motos. The university students were protesting against the police yet again. I learned that a few weeks ago, they had performed a major manifestation against the police because they had killed one of the students. Since interactions like these can suddenly take a turn for the worse, people are cautious amidst the crowded traffic as they elbow their way to work. The Congolese policemen stood in rigid rows, holding large, clear bullet-proof shields and full gear, including helmets, their unsmiling countenances searching the faces of the crowds in front of them.
However, as much as there might occasionally be tense situations in Goma, the people here radiate and enjoy life. For example, I thought I would share my experience of attending a local church this last Sunday:

This morning we were graced to be invited to a local Pentecostal church. The seven of us filed into the dark room that oozed with cow dung and sweat. We were kindly escorted to padded chairs at the very front of the church, to be unapologetically stared at for the next three hours, by all the church members who sat in severe wooden benches. I guess Pastor Samuel kept the worship celebration limited to only three hours for us, since he understands that Americans are not used to long services!
The people sang their hearts out, pounding loudly on anything that could make a beat, as the music leaders danced away. After about 8 songs, they invited all the members to stand and dance to the songs. The drumming got louder and louder as they shut all the doors and windows to contain the sound, suffocating the little air that remained in the room. Forty people danced and pranced, their full bodies swaying and turning with the music. The room was sweltering of sweat, heat and commotion- full of joy and happiness. Those of us at the front shifted back and forth slightly uncomfortably as we clapped, not sure if we should join them in the dancing, and really wishing that we could be slightly less in the spotlight to enjoy the music better.
Once the music was finished, Pastor Samuel invited us each to go up and introduce ourselves in the microphone, announcing to us that one of us would be teaching the congregation for at least 10 minutes. Thankfully, Gennae bit the bullet for us and spoke about how God promises that there will one day be a heaven and a new earth, where there will be no dying and where everyone will live healthy lives with plenty to eat and with security. She explained how everyone that follows Jesus is responsible for bringing that to this earth as much as possible even today. The people clapped as they yelled the Halleluiahs and Amens.
After a visiting pastor spoke for another 45 minutes, we were invited to partake in a communion of chapatti bread and strawberry Kool-Aid in decades-old shot glasses. We filed along with the rest of the Congolese, washing our hands in the communal bucket before eating and drinking.
I looked down at my watch, silently wondering if we were actually going to reach 200 minutes of church services in one morning! However, their hospitality and warmth and joy radiated as we all stood and shook each other’s hands, saying, “I love you!” (minakupenda) to every person around us. And you could feel the love!