Mass in Malava

St. Teresa Church in Malava

Mass on Sunday, in Malava, at St. Teresa Parish starts roughly at 9AM. Many parishioners come from a long distance on foot and so the Mass will not begin until most have arrived and the church is full. Luckily, I live on the parish grounds so I can usually leave the house at 9 o’clock, or even a few minutes past, and still make it on time.

Mural of St. Mary and St. John at the foot of the cross

African Jesus shepherding his flock

When I arrive at the church I genuflect and look up at the crucifix hanging behind the altar and notice the African depictions of St. Mary and St. John at the foot of the cross, to the right there is also an African depiction of Jesus shepherding his flock. I am always aware that I will be the only white person at Mass and so I sit in the back, trying not to call attention to myself. Even still, within a minute or two the parents and children in front and on the sides of me turn around to get a look. The children stare, but when they see that I am looking back at them they smile and then hide their faces. Just before Mass begins, the church fills to capacity and many sit elbow to elbow. The choir, whose space is reserved in the first five rows, warms up by singing a couple of songs. Finally, they start a fast song that is uplifting and full of energy.

Liturgical dancers enter the church and dance up the aisle

All rise and a long procession begins up the center aisle. At the front of the procession are the altar boys followed by two rows of liturgical dancers. These young girls dance their way up the aisle and then divide in half when they come to the front, before the altar. Father Paul, the pastor, is last in the procession. He enters the back of the church in a cloud of incense smoke.

When Father Paul gets to the front of the church he begins the Mass in Swahili by making the sign of the cross.

“Kwa jina la Baba,
(In the Name of the Father)
na la Mwana,
(And of the Son)
na la Roho Mtakatifu.”
(And of the Holy Spirit)

And all reply,

“Amina.”

(Amen)

From this point, most of the Mass is sung. St. Teresa Parish has an amazing and talented choir. About twenty men and women sing everything a cappella with only the occasional accompaniment of a drum and tambourine. Even though I don’t understand most of the words they are singing, their passion comes through and they make the Mass come alive.

Father Paul gives one of his famous homilies

As the readings are read in Swahili I read along with my bible in English. The Gospel is read and Father Paul begins his homily. I never understand what he is saying to the people, but he always has a funny and entertaining story to tell that is relevant to the readings. Several weeks ago, on Trinity Sunday, he had a captivated audience as he explained the Trinity using maize.

The ushers stand in a line as "Our Lady of Perpetual Help" looks over their shoulders

The Mass then continues as the petitions are given during the prayers of the faithful and then the collection is taken up. The collection is done differently than in the US in that the baskets stay up by the altar while ushers dismiss row by row, to come to the front. The ushers wear colored sashes with “Malava Catholic Parish” on them, but because they cannot read in English the lettering is always upside-down. A typical offering is between twenty and fifty shillings, which is about thirty to seventy-five cents. It’s always a struggle for me to remember to bring my money in the morning and can be embarrassing when I forget. I am assumed by all to be very wealthy and it gives a bad impression when I have nothing to give while the poor villagers are offering up all they have.

The gifts are brought to the altar

When it comes time to present the gifts on the altar there are sometimes loud animal noises coming from outside the church. At Mass in the States, most of the time, the gifts are simply the bread and wine. In Kenya, the gifts are presented with another long procession that comes up the center aisle. The people dance as they carry gifts of fruit, vegetables, rice, maize, salt, sugar, eggs, soda, baking flour, and even toilet paper. Each gift is wrapped nicely in a black plastic bag. Some villagers even offer animals as gifts to place on the altar. Chickens are the most common, but there is also the occasional sheep. So that they don’t get loose in the church each animal must have it’s legs tied. This is usually done just outside of the church and the animals can be heard screaming and struggling to get free during the first part of the Mass. Two men will carry a large sheep upside by it’s legs as they bring it up the aisle. Sometimes it’s still “baa-ing.” It looks just like an animal sacrifice and it makes me laugh all the time. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to take a clear picture of this happening.

Gifts at the altar

After the gifts are brought, Father Paul consecrates the bread and wine and the choir leads in singing the “Baba Yetu” or “Our Father.” When it comes time to offer the sign of peace many children come over to where I am and are excited to shake my hand. Sometimes they just want to touch my skin to see if it feels to same as theirs. They offer the sign of peace by saying,

“Amani ya Bwana” (Peace of the Lord)
or
“Amani ya Kristu” (Peace of Christ).

Father holds up the Body and Blood of Christ

Father Paul then holds up the Body and Blood of Christ and the parishioners come up to receive the Eucharist. Surprisingly, the same organization that is used during the collection is lost when going up to receive Communion. The line is not single file but horizontal along the altar and many come all at once and then wait in clusters to receive the host.

Parishioners receive communion

Father Paul says to each,

“Mwili wa Kristu” (Body of Christ)

And they reply

“Amina”

What is somewhat surprising is that only about half of the church receives Communion. Many of the villagers were not brought up Catholic, or even Christian, and can’t receive the Eucharist because they haven’t been Baptized. All the same, they come to church to offer their prayers for the community.

After Communion, the whole church bows as the Eucharist is placed back in the tabernacle and then all kneel as the choir leads in slowly singing a prayer of St. Ignatius Layola, the Anima Christi. The mood is very solemn and one of great reverence. It is really only at this one moment, during the Mass, that I feel one with these people. I don’t know every word that is spoken, but I understand. They are mostly the poor and uneducated, but I can see they understand. All language and cultural barriers have been broken down. Together we have all become brothers and sisters.

All rise and Father Paul again makes the sign of the cross and then says,”

“Nendeni na amani” (Go in peace)

All reply,

“Tumshukuru Mungu” (Thanks be to God)

Our countries and cultures have many differences, but during the Mass we all become one in Christ.

St. Julie Centre - Week 24

Godfrey Matika - Cerebral Palsy

For the past couple of weeks there has been one child in particular from the Centre that has been on my mind, Godfrey Matika. On June 24th Godfrey past away. He was the sixth child from the Centre to pass away this year. But what makes him stick in my mind is that I knew him well. Godfrey was one of the first children I met when I came to the Centre back in January. His mother used to bring him to the Centre every Monday, until the last few weeks of his life. He was a six-year-old who was blind and had cerebral palsy. He was very thin and it seemed obvious that he wasn’t feeding well and I think this may have been the main cause of his death.

I was told that his parents were so poor that they began to sell off their land bit by bit until they were left to live on a patch of ground that was so small that there was no room to plant or grow any food. It seems as though, in selling off their land, they sold off their main means of survival. And in the end, the burden of caring for a severely disabled child could have been more than they could bear.

Esther Moses - Cerebral Palsy

Fred Lisangari - Epilepsy

After Godfrey died, I began to look into the other children that have died this year and their causes of death. Most of them didn’t come to the Centre as often, so I didn’t know them as well, but from what I could see, they seemed to be to be doing alright, all things considered. It seemed that one day they were here, the next day they were gone, and I was the only one asking questions about it. No one else needed a reason. Death was just a way of life. I talked to the occupational therapy staff at the Centre and was surprised to hear how common it is for a disabled child to suddenly die. The staff, who had been at the Centre since it’s opening, seemed more accepting of this fact than I was. Apparently, when a small child has a disability, that could be in only one part of the body, the whole body is effected in some way. It’s as if due to the lacking of the one part, the rest of the body has to work harder, or is compromised. Mental disabilities are always more difficult to treat than physical disabilities and with small children, feeding can always be difficult.

Bramuel Sifu - Epilepsy

Issac Piccho - Cleft Lip

John Wanyama - Hydrocephalus

At some point, all we have are memories…

When Godfrey would come to the Centre his mother would bring him in and lay him down on the floor mats or sometimes prop him up in the sitting devices. Godfrey didn’t move much and his body seemed to be stuck in the fetal position from birth. His arms were very stiff, curled up into his chest, and his legs were raised, bent at the knee, and seemed to be frozen in that stance. When I would try to engage him in play therapy many times, besides his eyes blinking and the slight movement of his mouth, he wouldn’t talk or move at all. I would move his arms and legs for him to help reduce some of the stiffness. But one day I found that when I continued to play with him and call out his name he began to respond and move all on his own. It wasn’t much, but he would move his arms back and forth at the elbows and while his fingers were also curled into tiny fists, he looked like a boxer preparing to fight. I used to look at Godfrey and think, “This one’s a fighter.” Sometimes I would put my hand on his chest and I could feel his entire rib cage. I would think to myself, one day I will bring him something to eat while we played. Little did I know, at the time, that I wouldn’t see him much longer. I will truly miss him. May his soul, and all those who have died this year, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

In the month of June I heard, and saw, that I have a brand new baby nephew back home. In the month of July I heard the sad news that my 84-year-old grandfather has died. Wherever you are in the world, America or Kenya, whether you are rich, poor, or middle class we cannot get away from the fact that our days are numbered. Each day is a blessing, each breath a gift from God.

The Big 3-0!

Making a wish!

Today is my 30th Birthday! I’m not normally into celebrating my own birthday, but 30 years seems like some kind of milestone. Three decades…just under a third of a century…and I feel a mid-life crisis coming on soon. I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but “I’m becoming an ancient artifact!” I have the grey hairs to prove it! Pretty soon I’ll be saying things like, “When I was your age…” and “Respect your elders!”

Well, I suppose you’re wondering how I celebrated such a landmark event in my life. Being in Malava, my choices were quite limited. No pool party. No fireworks display. No cardboard cone hats. I celebrated by having a quiet dinner with the Sisters. Just another testament to my old age…

Yesterday I celebrated a day early with Sister Catherine, Sister Phyllis, Sister Nekesa, Sister Beatrice, Sister Jumoke, Postulant Lucy, and Postulant Caroline. We ate salad, beef stew, and chapati (flatbread). Then, for dessert we had a chocolate cake with four flickering candles on it in the shape of a “T,” for Tim…or was it a cross? Anyway, we sang the traditional birthday song, I made a wish, we ate the cake, and then I had to get home early before any would-be bandits could rob me.

Today is my actual birthday. I ate dinner with Father Josaphat and now I am in the house with only a piece of bread and a single candle to make a wish. However, I have received many gifts, just in time, from my family and friends back home that couldn't take "no" for an answer. Thanks a lot for that.

Gifts galore from family and friends!

Thank you Mom and Dad for the card, the candy, the ketchup, and the mustard. Thank you Ed and Kerre for the candy and the update. I will enjoy it all thoroughly.

It seems like a pretty unexciting way to spend my “coming of old age,” but seriously, it was a nice couple of days spent with friends and their generous gifts and I enjoyed it very much.

Update 7/13/07

Thank you Grandma and Aunt Elaine for the birthday cards. Thank you and Aunt Jan and Uncle Walt for the card, the chocolate covered pretzels, and especially the Pistons T-shirt.