The Long Way Home

One of our tasks right now on our project is doing the culture study for the Ottamari people. Some of the older AFM projects were not introduced to the
culture study until later because it really has not been fully developed until now. The culture study enables the missionaries to understand
a people group's worldview, how they think and what their beliefs are, etc. This helps them create a platform to build evangelism and church
planting here. Here much planting has been done already, which the means the culture study is to help the current church grow better as well as to
continue evangelism correctly. If you have questions on what I am saying just ask.
The first step is following a bunch of people for three days each to see what their habits are, how they live, what is important to them, etc.
So a few weeks ago was Thomas and this past week it was Lamel, a retired Muslim who lives near our home. He takes regular trips to the markets in the little villages
all around Natitingou to find wild game which he sells for more in Nati, wild game is giant rat, rabbit, huge water lizards (not crocodiles, look
more gila monsters but for water, what's a gila monster, ummm, looks like a big lizard(-:), little forest birds like quails and pheasants of North America.
They usually split them open after they kill them, insides and all, the put sticks to hold them like that and dry them stiff as a board, no your right
not very appetizing. But I have seen pharmacists buy them by the sack load here.
We spent Tues, Wed, and Thursday with him. It was very interesting and even entertaining. The first day I forgot to put my camera battery in
so that ruined the pictures at the Perma village market. We walked around alot and looked for good deals on meats. The second day we got to
see a Muslim naming ceremony. It was so interesting. The child was not involved physically, but it was all so engaging. The men came in slowly,
elderly, middle aged, young men; they all sat together on mats in the middle of a group of house in a rectangle with a platter of corn in the middle
with a bowl in it. You could tell their importance by their long robes or what kind of hat they wore, plain felt, or intricate designs, or even
a type of prayer shawl over their head. Their talked and chatted enjoying the time. Then like a small ember smoking the new fragance of fire coming back to life, a voice
started praying, the another joined, a few more. In a few minutes all the men were silently with the leader in a white rob leading. At the right moments,
all the men would join in a chant, raising their hands in front of their chests palms upturned to Heaven and like an ocean wave they all together
wash their faces, in a gesture of gratitude. Not with a real water, but just symbolically washing themselves with the blessings from on high. The whole
prayer time lasted twenty or twenty five minutes; time really seemed to just flow by. One may not have noticed in an hour or a day passed, you just
seem to float on the rise and fall of the prayers of the group and individuals. As one would prayer the rest would intersperse "Praise Allah". They
all knew there part, and as a great mechanism in one accord moving, their prayers lifted into the wind.
As you can see I was enthralled by their prayers. While they really are still in an very pagan religion with the need to self-attain salvation
and the worship of a prophet, who was a man, and so forth. Their reverence and devotion I greatly respect. The sense of wonder, awe, and fear
their services produce, really are to be envied. I have not often been in an Adventist church where I walked out sensing that I faced the mystery
of an all holy God. Not that this is always neccessary, God is a God of joy too and if everything were a somber occasion, I would not
be inclined to think of God as just as sad as He is holy! Nonetheless, I do not think our greatest fear should be over becoming too joyful in church, but
too irreverent and irrespectful. There is always a balance, and that's life, exciting isn't it.
The rest of the day was visiting people and then eating too much at the ensuing feast for the baby's naming ceremony. But the rice was so good!

Thursday we went to Tigniti (pronounced T-yan-t)a little village 15 km from Nati (remember that, 15 Km). We enjoyed the time there, Manny and I, although
it was sometimes frustrating not know everything that was said in Dittimari, but Lamel gave us the gist of conversations. The day wound down rather
quickly. Lamel bought so much meet that he used up all his cash, I had plenty to get us home, but the taxi guy wanted 500 each instead of the morning's 300 each.
So Lamel suggested we start walking, why not, we'd find someone to take us. We did not. Remember the kilometres now? So we walked. We started at 5 PM
arriving at home at 9PM. We didn't stop either, only once for a few minutes to say hi to a family, but no sitting. It was a good work out, to say the least.
Our cargo was unusual, I carried a hen under one arm, and manny carried a rooster tied to his back pack and a sack of wild game in his hand. Indeed one
older black man and a couple of young white guys walk with chickens was a sight for everyone. One house we past, the people speculated that we had had
car trouble, after passing I related this Lamel, he assured us that there was no problem, as if telling it to the people we passed by.
I have recovered now, but let me tell you Manny and I slept well. Actually on Sabbath morning was when it really hit me. But the walk was a blessing,
I don't think there would be a much better way to bond with a friend like Lamel than to walk four hours together talking now and again and enjoying
the fellowship. He wants to know the next time we'd like to go the market, we are not so sure if we are ready again!