It's a Beautiful Day

Awe-Inspiring.

I remember reading over SAT words back in high school and thinking to myself, 'when am I ever going to be in a situation where any of these words are applicable?' Take Awe-inspiring, for example; maybe I'll be in awe over something or I'll be inspired by some happening or another. But awe-inspired? More than a little excessive.

Today, I went to the Born Again Church of Christ in Gulu, Uganda. Today, I was grateful to have the appropriate word in my vocabulary to express some of the emotion I felt during this four hour (yeah; four hour) experience. Never in my life have I witnessed such enthusiasm, passion, dedication, or intensity by so many people--not to mention participated within a group of said description. My host mother and I arrived at a small, open-air pavilion type structure with a make shift stage, thirty or so plastic chairs, and a grouping of floor mats surrounding it on three sides. Although the service didn't officially begin until 10, more than 40 people were already present. The song, dance, and drum portion of this religious rave began around 9:45 and didn't stop until almost 12 noon. As the morning passed, more people arrived and I would argue that by the time the singing stopped we comprised a group of 70 or more. Elderly, adults, adolescents, youth, and even the youngest of children intermingled with one another. Here, the children seemed to belong to everyone present and more than once I found myself with child in arm. People prayed at the top of their lungs, expressing themselves in a multitude of ways: jumping up and down, rolling on the floor, dancing--with others or alone--screaming, and crying. Movement was the unifying factor. Everyone was moving. Hours passed; it didn't appear this would ever end. But it did; the drum stopped and the mass of people eventually slowed and stopped as well. So much heat, sweat, and exhaustion. I thought to myself, 'surely we are done here.' But this short pause was shortly replaced by a sermon preached so loudly and intensely that I couldn't think of averting my gaze. Even though I did not understand a single word yelled at us, I knew enough to scream 'Amen' anytime the speaker stopped for air or to wipe the ever-present sweat pouring down his face; I knew enough to jump up in unison with the people to my left and right when a particularly moving point was made. I feel like I did alright, all things considering. By one o'clock, however, I was pretty much over it. Covered in sweat, dust, and the kind of sticky that only small children can produce, all I wanted to do was get some space and take the make shift bath/shower I've now grown so accustomed to. The last hour was pretty awful, and I lost a lot of the initial curiosity and intrigue I had for the first couple hours. When it came time to leave, I was grateful.

The topic of religion is one of great importance to the Gulu people. Although there are many religions offered throughout Acholiland and the freedom to choose one seems common place, it is necessary that each individual subscribe to one. One of the first conversations I shared with my new family was centered on religion. My attempt to explain that I'm open-minded and not committed to any one sector in its entirety was not even recognized as valid statement. I ended up being classified as 'that new non-denominational Christian' type. After a couple more failures at communicating my ideas on spirituality in contrast to organized religion, I went along with the non-denominational gig. It's strange to think that after everything these people have been through, they still view religion as the answer; God is still great and prayer is still the best method of self-resilience. Less than one year ago, over 90 percent of Northern Uganda lived in Internally Displaced Peoples Camps. I have yet to meet one person who has not experienced violence, abduction, hunger, poverty, or loss during the war. And yet Sunday brings a day of worship. People move forward and people celebrate this life they live.

In a way, being here has brought new meaning to the need to believe in something beyond which is known. I’ve always felt I understood that—had a need to hold on to that one truth or idea that can’t quite be defined, explained, or even fully grasped within this reality. It’s one of the reasons I have the word Sleep tattooed on my left shin. It’s one of the reasons I can’t go a day without music; without love. But being here;; this need is even more real and relevant than I have the capacity to know. And maybe for a people who have had literally everything ripped from their beings, religion was the one thing they felt could never be taken. So now in the process of rebuilding and recovery, I suppose it makes sense that religion be looked upon for continued forward progression. I don’t know. Something to think about. Something to provide meaning that previously foreign word ‘awe-inspiring.’

Miss everyone very much.

Thanks for reading.