Easter Sunday

Awoke plenty early for breakfast so I decided to make oatmeal. There is a beautiful gas range in the kitchen in the Commons and it took only a few minutes to get the water boiling and soon I was treated to my first oatmeal since the cup I had on the ride to the AC airport. (I found the microwave this evening. I could have been making it every morning.) I have been having a bowl of beautiful granola as the basis of my breakfasts here usually topped with a couple of ripe bananas. The amount of fruit available at all of our meals has been outstanding. Rosalee usually cleans up after breakfast along with her other kitchen duties but on the weekends we take care of that duty so I took the opportunity to get my hands back into the hot water.
Mickey showed up with the van about 8:15 to take us to Etoug-ebe Baptist Church. It is a large church seating several hundred, perhaps even a thousand and this Easter Sunday it was packed. Ushers kept filling every seat until there were 8 in each one. We sat on dark brown wooden benches with book racks containing bibles and hymnals and places for communion cups but they were not fastened to the floor. As we sat, choirs began to enter from both sides. They all had matching robes. Some wore mortar board hats and in some of choirs the woman wore scarves of a color to match their robes. On the left was a French choir wearing black robes trimmed in white with black mortar boards. Another was similar in blue and a third wore black robes with white head scarves. To the right of the dais was fourth with dark red robes and white scarves and the fifth wore a copper color. The fifth choir never got to sing by themselves.
I was so excited waiting for the music to begin and when it did I was not disappointed. A tall man with a beautiful baritone voice led with three women to back him up. We sang songs about the resurrection in a mix of French and English. There is something about the African harmony that is so distinct and it goes straight to your heart. Worship time is a mourning time for me and today was no exception as tears streamed down my face. When that part of the service was over I was left yearning for more. That was far from the end of the music however. Choirs and smaller groups sang and as a special treat a children’s group from northern Cameroon presented a song with great choreography.
After church we went out for dinner. As we approached the restaurant a high masonry wall appeared on left hand side of the road and several head on parking spaces on the right. Mickey deftly swung the van through the empty spaces and into a U turn and was directed into a parallel spot next to the wall by a security guard. We climbed out and were directed toward a set of masonry steps leading up into a beautiful garden of tropical plants and bushes of numerous colors, sizes and varieties. We came to a porch-like serving area partially hidden by shrubbery and vines but we passed that area on narrow path that climbed even higher. Everywhere you looked there were multicolored plants and trees with beautiful blossoms. We continued up more steps to another porch room tucked behind a lattice of bamboo covered with vines. All about were bowers of brilliant bougainvillea. The maitre‘d ushered us to a table for ten with a “reserved” sign on it. The menu was all in French. I surprised how much of it made some sense. Sitting next to Mickey was a big help too. I managed to order in French but pronounced vert with a Spanish “b” instead of a (“v”). The Chateaubriand was excellent as was the salade vert and the pomme de terre sautees (potatoes). The porch had walls on two sides covered with original paintings that were for sale. Those who sat on one side of the table were treated to the paintings. The others were looking into the tops of the trees planted in the garden below.
When we arrived home I tried to type but kept nodding off so I took a nap instead. Then I got up and started to type. The evening activity was a sing and share up at the Center. We did not have a ride so we walked down the hill, across the busy thoroughfare and up the other side. Even our little side street was alive with activity with whole families out in the street perhaps to celebrate the holiday. After arriving at the Center we took time to catch our breath and cool down from the vigorous climb. We then sang several songs before missionaries shared stories of their areas after which we prayed for them. It was dark by the time we left so we offered a prayer for safety and began a totally uneventful walk home. Our prayer had been answered. Most of us had not eaten since the restaurant so we snacked on whatever we could find in the kitchen. Marcelline is a woman who assists Mickey and his wife Barb, our hosts. She heated up a pot of chili and some of us had that. That is about it for Easter Sunday. Hallelujah He Is Risen!