Applause for Fr. Guido

We went to church today. (Okay, don’t everyone start laughing at once. Even Bill pretended to know what was going on.) Our Lady of Africa is right up the hill from us so we set off, not knowing what time Mass was. We met a huge crowd coming out and almost turned around. But we thought we’d at least see the church – and got there just in time for the Luganda Mass. Meaning it was all in Luganda, the most common language here.

We didn’t care; the priest is Italian and with his heavy accent we couldn’t understand much. (That’s a joke. We are trying to learn some Luganda but so far can only say, “Thank you, Madam,” “Good/beautiful/fine,” (balungi) and we are learning “Good morning sir/madam” as tonight’s lesson.) Actually, we could follow along pretty well; the prayers have the same rhythm no matter the language, and the “ameni” was close enough. We even did the "peace be with you" part, mumbling the English in response to whatever the others said.

The music was wonderful – a choir with drums, lots of clapping and swaying. The women were all dressed in their beautiful, bright cotton dresses, some of the men had very cool African shirts (maybe Bill will get one for his birthday!) and the children … the children are always beautiful. The little girls wear ruffley dresses like colored First Communion dresses -- all chiffony and bows -- and the boys wear baggy pants, very hip. The kids vied to get closer to us until finally we got crowded down the pew, surrounded by grinning little boys and girls. We were the only mzungus, of course.

My favorite part (other than the drums and the kids) was the consecration. When the priest held up the host, a bell rang and then everyone started clapping! Ditto the chalice. It was great! Applause for Jesus!

We thought the priest looked familiar. I think we’ve seen him at the Italian deli. The church is right near the Vatican embassy and both are part of our neighborhood. But he reminded me of the priests of the old religion class – when a baby cried, he pointed to the door and the poor baby got evicted to the crying room. When a cell phone went off – uh-oh. Big frown and shaking finger. Don’t cross Fr. Guido.

Next we’ll try an Evangelical church, which we hear is really rockin’.

The picture with this post has nothing to do with church. Meet Juliet. Her parents died from AIDS. She is 17. She takes care of her five siblings. Alone. She makes beads to pay their school fees. More on that later. But it just seemed that if she has little to do with faith, she has much to do with hope. Isn’t she beautiful? Amen.