or how I learned to love the Pastor.
Sunday November 9th 2003
Today was consecration day. So, originally, Alex was supposed to take my equipment and tape the consecration.. which seems to be some sort of ritual where a chosen few become church elders. In this case, the pastor, who is a very shrewd polititian and business man, seems to have chosen a group of people who were a combination of up-and-coming elite, and elites. As confirmation of the political nature of the choices, there were two sermons about jealousy. One about Cain and Able, and Cain believing that he knew better than god, and getting punished for that, it then drifted into: if you think that these people shouldn’t have been chosen, god will punish you. All in all, a very effective proposition. So the elders of the church are pretty much every power broker in town.. either politically, or fiscally.. except the Muslims.,. of course. There seem to be two power structures here. The protestant one, and the muslim one. The muslims have no power in the official sense…but I think that many of the most successful business people here are muslim.
So… the event was slated to start at 9:30. I rained a bit in the morning, so I knew that meant.. not before 10:30. Alex (who has already spent the money he was supposed to earn on this gig buying some shoes) was nervous, and ready to go at 8. I, being sick, and not particularly excited to do this thing at all, was not going to leave the house before 9. As we left, we passed the pastor wandering around town. Apparently, not in any real rush. It rained more as we walked the mile to the church. We got there, I scouted a little. The light was both beautiful, and a total nightmare. There were windows on all sides, that didn’t have glass or anything. The light pouring in was very bright… and came from all over. There was no place for me to set up the camera where I could get a nice back lit shot. Alex kept hovering. Trying to get me to let him use the camera. Not a chance. I did let him sit with the recorder, as I need sound.
After an hour or so of waiting, and setting up the room, the event started. The mass seems to start with a procession of singing from the pastor’s house, followed by more singing and drumming inside. A brief run down of church business… and more signing. There were 4 singing groups that each took a turn. Girls, Women, a mixed group with drums, and another, which seemed to be led by.. some woman who takes care of the pastor. When I say take care, I’m not sure how far that extends. There was an old casio heyboard that was playing through the obligitorlly blown speakers (in this case, on the edge)…and actually, the guy got a great sound out of them. It sounded very twangy, and very analog. This continued for a while, until the 7 candidates were introduced. There was some preparatory speech making…and then a pause for the babptisms. A few kids, and a few adults (who were being born again, renewing their vows, whatever). The kids cracked me up. I have some great footage of their reactions. Some of the kids screamed bloody murder, others looked like they had no idea what was going on: “I know I’m inside, but it must be raining, because I am wet. One kid really got into it. He must have though that this was bath time. He kept reaching for the water after they had doused him.
More singing, and then consecration begins in earnest. All in all it was not very interesting.. except for the super secret part where all the elders clustered around the candidates who got on their knees, so that the assembly couldn’t see them, and then.. like magic, when they stood up, they had changed into their special ‘elder’ outfit (basically… black). It seemed pretty silly to me… and most of all not really effective as a magic trick.
Then the 7 newly dressed elders stood in a line, with baskets in front of them, and the pastor told the crowd to show their appreciation by putting money in the baskets of the newly consecrated, and that there was a surprise waiting for the elder who collected the most money. Nice. The came the processions of gifts. First by the wives… and when I use the plural, I mean that both times. Each canditate’s multiple wives. In the case of the women, the husband, and the other wives of the husband.
I love Africa. I mean, that the church (which ever one) decided to sort of look the other way on polygamy was very astute, if not a tad hypocritical. It is also cracks me up that I get the: we believe in family values speech at the drop of a hat… in fact they care so much about family values that they have more than one. I mean the logic of that is simply stunning… its like the argument that polygamy is an effective barrier against aids.. because there is no way the man will stay faithful, so if he has a few wifes, then there is no need to get sex elsewhere. I have no equipment to argue either point… nor the desire.
So, back to the ceremony. After the wives, came the families, and then finally, friends. A final blessing or two, some more singing, and that was all she wrote. It was almost 3pm at this point. I set up the camera outside to get some portraits, and interviews. Lots of handshaking, and then an invitation to the pastor’s to have some food. I sat next to the local head of MINEF (the one I called out at the world bank meeting) who had just been consecrated. He is, sort of, responsible for hunting and the environment. Anyway, I had to spit out the shot from my ant-eater. Gotta love that. I’m eating illegal game in front of the the man who is the highest local authority on regulating it. A man who I called out as an obstructionist in front of his boss and the world bank.. and he’s as happy as a clam now that I have commited him to eternity via video. After the food came the drink. The pastor has quite the supply of whisky.. and I mean whisky. Everyone was getting good and sauced. The mayor, the other elders (read: elite…which is the local word, not mine, by the way). I excused myself at around 4:30-5. I had to go lie down. Several times during the ceremony I got the malarial hot and cold flashes, sweats, and sore joints.
See, the day was only half over. There was the gala soiree that was scheduled to start at 7… oh, no wait, it got changed to 9, oh wait.. when I showed up at 9:15, there was nothing. No food, no drinks, no people… just a rooom full of empty plastic chairs. So, the plastic chairs. For every event, the same uncomfortable plastic chairs come out from some invisible storage area. Green or white. There is, apparently, a never ending supply of plastic chairs for all of the myriad events. I’m surprised that there aren’t labels on the chairs by this point.
At 9:30, I quietly headed home. I was totally beat, and had to pass out. What really made up my mind was the description of the events about to unfold: we would all be given a seat (no tables, by the way, just the chairs), and we would sit there, until a few speaches were completed, the food brought out, and the protocol officially engaged. It would probably be around midnight before I ate. Then, after that, the dancing would begin…all the while, the heavy drinking would continue. I’m not sure if the dancing was done with formal partners chosen, and the traditional african music of Celine Dion used to get people going. All I know, is that I wasn’t going to wait to find out. From all reports, the festivities didn’t really end until dawn. I am very happy that ‘palu’ (malaria) is considered a fine excuse for missing the event. Next time, I fhink I won’t be so lucky.