Dorinda’s church “New Life” is located down a dirt road. We enter a room of wooden benches and standing people, already in the middle of worship. Several men and women stand in front to lead the service, with a mic in the middle.
For a good hour and a half, it was all songs, dances and stories—something I’m definitely not used to. Some male teens performed a dance that involved rotating in a circle, and then the children came to sing a song. The best one, however, was the meke (traditional dance). Several people dressed up as the old Native Fijians, with leaves and warpaint, and smeared on what smelled like coconut oil. They rushed in with a war chant and ‘faced off’ against the colonists. The two groups stepped in unison, with the native group often rising up in bone-rattling chants. One woman from the audience jumped up to join the festivities. Haha I have no idea what this has to do with Christianity, but it sure was entertaining. Keep in mind, this all happened in the aisle between the two main groups of chairs.
I met D’s daughter “Chum” and her son, Christian. We sang, we clapped, we drank (juice). The speakers included this Indian woman who thanked God for stopping her from smacking the shit out of this rude smoker yesterday, and a preacher who seemed to just discover how loud his voice can get haha.
After two and a half hours, we left early to go back. Chum followed us, and we had a wonderful lunch of stir fry, tapioca, lamb (eh…)—basically the biggest meal I’ve had in Fiji. Afterwards, I took the liberty of kicking it Fijian style and took a nap for three hours. Ahh, the tropics.
No comments:
Post a Comment