This past weekend was my last in the village.  I spend most of my weekends in Polokwane, because I am part of a church there.  However, as this was my last weekend, I made sure to spend it back in Ramatjowe.  Saturday was busy around the Masipa household, as family began to arrive and everyone was actively getting ready for a party at the house on Sunday.

The family is part of the local Evangelical Lutheran Church, which is conveniently located two plots down the road from our house.  I attended a few times right when I arrived here, but soon found Christ Baptist Church in Polokwane, and began attending there instead.  It was fun to be back again, almost two years later.  The church has changed some, a mural was painted on the wall behind the altar, the outside got a new façade, and the church was much fuller this time than ever before.

There are two main reasons I do not attend that church with my Masipa family.  One, we differ theologically in some key respects.  Two, they speak only Northern Sotho during the services.  Maybe I would have made some real strides if I would have continued to sit through a 2-4 hour service in the language each weekend.  I chose a different path, however.  It was nice, during communion, that while offering the sacraments, the priest switched to English when he came to me.

It is a church very different from any I’ve ever attended in the States.  For one, there are no musical instruments.  There is lots of music, but it is all exclusively vocal.  The Women’s Prayer League leads the singing, by calling out the number from the hymnal and singing loudly for everyone else to follow alone.  For a small congregation, they have many powerful voices!  The service order is different from what I’m accustomed to, and the manner of each is also a bit different.  For example, during communion, the Prayer League women (who all dress in matching black and white dresses and hats) go first, then other women, then the men, finally the children.

On my first weekend in Ramatjowe, I attended church with the family.  Uncle Rama made me come up to the front with him and he introduced me to the church.  I should have seen it coming, because this was my last Sunday.  He, once again, took me by the hand to the front of the church and announced to all that I was leaving.  They asked me to say a few words.  Then they sung me a farewell song.  I don’t know exactly what it was, it was in Sotho, but it was a lovely gesture nonetheless.

The service this past Sunday was 3 ½ hours long; 8 – 11:30 am.  It was unusually long this time, because of a baptism portion of the service.  My adopted host sister, Koketso, was baptized into the church, becoming the 100^th member of the congregation.  Koke was adopted into the Masipa family on May 9, 2011 and she has become a very active, fun, much loved addition to the family.  She wore a pretty white dress and was prayed for, blessed, and sprinkled with water.

There was a big family party after the service in honor of Koke’s baptism.  There was food, there is always food (pap, samp, chicken, steak, wors, cabbage, chakalaka, etc.).  I do not much like these events, they are all the same and I always feel very outside of the club.  It’s both better and worse when they are at my house.  On one hand, there is no escape from all the people.  On the other hand, I can retreat into my room where I will get a few uninterrupted minutes of peace, but not quiet.  This time was different.  I was very tired (haven’t been sleeping well the last few weeks), so I went into my room to get a break from the action.  I ended up lying down and falling asleep.  When I woke, 5 hours later, the party had died down to just extended family (still a large group, but they all know me).  By accidentally catching only the bookends of the party, I enjoyed it more than I usually do, and I got a much needed nap.

Expect a few posts soon about saying farewell to my work sites and my host family.  It will be bittersweet.  I’m excited to travel then come home, but I will miss them very much.