madman accross the water

What a fascinating day we had today.  Our investigator, Amizade, has founded three or four churches in the general vicinity of Quelimane and he has long been asking for us to visit and teach in them--especially the "mother church" located on an island about 65k out of town.  Well, today was the day.  Debbie has been somewhat apprehensive of the experience and we had to get Amizade's promise that we would have something larger than a canoe to cross the river--an allegedly ten minute trip.  I had this planned in my mind to get in and out in the early morning and back around lunch time--in time for appointments in the afternoon.  It didn't quite work out like that.  The boat ride (powered by two strong young men at the oars of the 25 foot flat-bottomed homemade boat (not a dugout canoe) took about 40 minutes rather than ten.  The island is in the mouth of a river just a very short distance from the ocean--so it is salt water.  We had about a mile long walk through the mato to the church--trailing a singing procession as we walked.  In the end, we never did make it to those afternoon appointments.  It was a rich and beautiful as well as long day there.  We really enjoyed the people and the teaching experience.

Debbie walking among the singing procession that welcomed us to the island and afterwards walked us back to the boat.

Debbie spoke for about five minutes and I spoke for about 40.  The pastor said that they were up for more, but it seemed best to end before they threw us out.  Following our speaking, there was something of an lds "testimony meeting" as people stood and expressed what they felt and thought of our message.  They were all speaking in dialect, but you could here the references to the honorific "Mother and Father" And we got the translation as well.  It really was quite touching.  We were begged to return as well as to visit the other congregations that had representatives there.

Debbie seemed drawn to the singing and dancing--I couldn't get her off the floor.  She actually made a great impression and did really try and interact with everyone. 

We had a break of coconut milk (more like water) and coconut meat before another round of music and dancing.

It seems that Debbie was unusually taken with the drummer and tambourine player (two different hunks pictured here).  It is not the first time I'm sure that a young lass like her has fallen for one of these musical types.

After collecting cash offerings (they sing a "collection" song while people come forward and leave their offering on these two chairs), they brought out another offering of their bounty--fruits, vegetables and of course a live chicken (you can see it on the ground under the basket).  All of this, including the cash, was given to us.  We tactfully gifted back everything but did retain a bunch of delicious bananas of a type we hadn't seen before.

When the service and dancing and offerings were done, we thought that we would finally get home--not so fast it seems.  It turns out that they had prepared a spectacular lunch of rice and fresh crab (and chicken).  The crab was truly excellent.  It was the strangest thing: we ate on china and stoneware on a white table cloth (with a suit-clad waiter with towel on his arm).  Words cannot describe how incongruous the fine meal was with our setting.  But we can live with incongruity and enjoyed the meal immensely).

Our welcome to the church included a flowered arch through which to enter the building.  The framework construction of the chapel, that you can see here, allowed a breeze to flow through the building--which kept it quite pleasant.

It seemed like everyone from the service walked to the boats to see us off.  They sang their version of "Master the Tempest is Raging", before we set out to sea.  I am fascinated by the dugout canoes which I used to think were an item from ancient history--they are not--they are the principal small boat conveyance here and seem to be remarkably useful and seaworthy.  The ride home was made against fierce head winds--at times all forward progress would end--but nearly two hours later, we made it back to terra firma.  I tipped our oarsmen handsomely.

I try and objectively evaluate the day-long experience on the island of Iduga.  Was it a productive thing to do?  We we honored, feted and deferred and catered-to (literally and figuratively).  We were treated like visiting apostles.  It was certainly enjoyable (and culturally fascinating) for us. But did we accomplish anything?  The island is too distant from the base of the church to realistically contemplate ongoing work there in the neart term.  But beyond the cultural trappings and personally gratifying experience--there was a very good spirit and intelligence among them that is not often present in these types of congregations here.  Many were truly looking for more truth and were moved by both our effort to come and the content of what we taught (which was the condensed version of the plan of salvation, apostasy, restoration and doctrine of Christ).  I think that their pastor, Amizade, who is a very humble and truth-seeking man, accounts for much of the spirit that we felt there.  He has taught them the truth as far as he was able to discern it.  So we conclude: yes, it was a good thing to do.  We will see what if anything comes of it. 

We arrived at shore only to find that Amizade had promised rides (in our truck) to a number of people who needed to get into town.  We had 5 inside the cab and six or seven in the back.