French-language service at a Cameroonian church followed by a visit to
someone's house. What transpired, instead, was attendance at the
nominally-10:30 service (which started closer to 11am) in Bulu, a
Cameroonian language. This got out at 2pm. Then we hiked up the hill
for the visit, and ended up late for our other Sunday plans at 4pm.
The lesson here is that you get to plan one thing a day in Africa, and
then see what happens. Planning more than one thing a day is
foolhardy. People are not too worried about scheduling out here.
Things happen when they happen.
We enjoyed the service. The Cameroonian who invited us had thoughtfully
brought along some English-language materials for us to follow the
readings and music. There was a lot of music, some of it African
melodies and some familiar Protestant hymns, all of it sung in Bulu and
accompanied by a digital keyboard pipe organ. It was all sung with
gusto by the choir (several choirs, actually), who danced along, or by
all of the hundreds of people in the large church. The preacher talked
for maybe half an hour, and although we couldn't understand a word, it
was clear watching and listening to him that he was an effective
speaker, as he used his voice and his body to hold the crowd.
Three and a half hours is a bit long for us, so I don't think we'll go
back. But I'm glad we went.
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