The Wedding

My hosts, including Fr. Celestino, Fr. George, and Peter (the seminarian), greeted the wedding party upon arrival.  They were met with high enthusiasm and esteem.   As I followed them into the church (also constructed from metal sheets), I noticed the reverence afforded them along the way by each person they passed.

Once we entered the church, the choir began to sing.  They had no musical accompaniment aside from a pair of drums, but their voices were such powerful instruments that anything more would have been a disservice.  The choir was just the first indicator of the jovial wedding mass to follow.


The ceremony started with the choir clapping and singing as my hosts re-entered the church wearing green and white ceremonial clothing behind a group of dancing children dressed in either blue or red.  They were followed by the wedding party (to lots of cheers).  The children were amazingly joyful, and danced with such excitement it stirred the urge to dance along. 

Watch the processional here

Despite the unfamiliar beginning, mass was the same as I've witnessed in the States.  Father Celestino loaned me his personal book to follow the mass in English, since it was conducted in the Swahili language.  Fr. George usually gives mass at this location, but today, as an honor to the newlyweds and people of Kiambia, Fr. George asked Fr. Celestino to give the homily.  I scanned the room while Fr. Celestino addressed the people and noted how he engaged them so well.  Occasionally, when she thought that Fr. Celestino's words were especially poignant, the woman next to me translated them so that I could share in the message.

This ceremony became the first of many occasions where my hosts regarded me as a V.I.P. in front of a crowd.   Towards the end of the ceremony, Fr. George told the attendees that he wanted to introduce each of his guests and called for each of us to say a few words.  Fr. Celestino went first and gave me an impressive introduction, citing my academic achievements and military service.  When he gave me the microphone, I thanked the newlyweds and the entire group for such a warm welcome and despite what Fr. George had joked earlier, I did not have an official message from their beloved President Obama.  I also participated in the traditional cake feeding.  After the bride and groom cut the cake, they feed each other.  Then, they feed their best men, women, parents, and priests.  Since Father Celestino insisted that I sit to his left, they fed me also.

As an aside…I cannot overstate the amount of love and adoration Kenyans have for President Obama…when Fr. George asked the crowd whether any of Obama’s cousins were in the room, everyone raised their hands and cheered.  He is also referenced as their son and brother.  My hosts told me there was a national holiday in Kenya the day after he was elected, with some other African nations extending their holidays for up to 3 days.  Interestingly, the love for our President is solely due to his Kenyan heritage, with most residents not knowing his stance on many issues or choosing to ignore them for the sake of being proud of their son.  My hosts, for instance, would not support our President as a candidate for office in Kenya.  When I asked them whether they supported President Obama, they responded “We support him, as President of the United States.”

As we departed the ceremony, I thought to myself that I had never experienced such a joyous occasion.  There was no Champaign, no flowers, no band, harp, or DJ.  The bridesmaids dresses were safety pinned at the rear.  Yet, all of the wedding participants seemed to be having the time of their lives, celebrating nuptials with two small sheet cakes and three bottles of soda.  All of the wedding attendees, apart from my hosts, were residents of Kiambia.  

That afternoon, Fr. Celestino gave me a tour of the city as we drove toward city center.  Once in the city, we went into the office of the Pontifical Mission Society, where Fr. Celestino is the director.  There, I had the privilege of meeting Bishop Peter Kihara, Bishop of both the Pontifical Mission Society of Kenya and the Catholic Diocese of Marsabit.  That evening, my hosts took me to dinner at a very nice restaurant where I had a tasty spinach pizza in addition to a piece of Fr. Celestino’s barbequed goat.

St. Joseph’s Nursery and Primary School

10/29/2012

Today, Fr. George took me to Holy Trinity’s school (St. Joseph's) to visit his 160 students in nursery-school through class 8 (pre-school through 8^th grade).  We walked through the sanctuary, which is under construction to place the pulpit at the head of the church rather than the side, over to the head mistress’ office.  Once we walked through the door, a young student jumped up from his seat with a handmade sign that read “Welcome Destiny Moore.”  The sign was adorned with real yellow dandelions that had been pushed through the board.   Soon, another student rushed out and stood beside the other, holding one side of the artwork.  The first one told me that they had the idea to create a welcome token for me and had gotten the permission of the head mistress to create it and wait at the front door to present it.  Once I took a photograph with them and learned their names, they hastily made their way back to class.

I spoke with the headmistress, Mrs. Muhoro briefly before she took me on a tour of the school.  She explained that students in Kenya go through primary school to class 8, and then become candidates for high school, which consists of forms 1 – 4.  Most of St. Josephs’ students’ parents pay tuition for them to attend and the church sponsors 20 students from those profits.  Despite holding classes for 160 students each day, the school does not actually have a building of its own.  Rather, teachers hold classes in the church hall, a private house, and a storage container.  Fr. George hopes to raise enough funds one day to build a proper school on the grounds, which also lacks a safe play area for recess.  

I toured the classes to see their conditions, introduce myself to the students, and meet their teachers.   All of the students showed the utmost respect to their teachers and their faces shone bright whenever they laid eyes on Fr. George, who always greeted them in a particular way: 

Fr. George:  “God is good…”

Children:  “All the time!”

Fr. George:  “All the time?”

Children:  “God is good and that is his nature! Wooooow!”

 

I was surprised to find that most of them knew that Washington, D.C. was the capital of the United States and absolutely all of them, from nursery class to class 8, knew of President Obama.  They beamed with pride as Fr. George asked each class if they knew the President of the United States.  They always gave a resounding “Obamaaaaaa!” in response.  

Once I’d gone to visit each class, all of the students assembled in the church hall, where they were to perform several songs and poems to be used for their upcoming graduations.  The younger students began with an adorable version of “When the Saints go Marching In.”  They were followed by the older children, who recited two poems, one in English, the other in Swahili.  Both poems were testaments to their school, teachers, and Jesus Christ.  It was obvious how much the students adore their teachers, school, and Fr. George.  Each student performed wholeheartedly with smiling faces.  They were very excited to profess this adoration to a visitor.   

I addressed the children right after their performances.  In compliance with Fr. George’s orders, I told them what degrees I have, where I live, that I was in the Army, that I now work with the Archdiocese in Washington, D.C., that I had to work very hard and that they could achieve their goals if they worked hard, too.  I showed them photographs of me in uniform and of my graduation from law school.  The children were enthralled.  They asked me questions about my education and things I did while in the Army.  I was very impressed by how intelligent and well informed they were.  As I left (or tried to leave) the school, the children surrounded me and showered me with hugs and more questions until I promised to return to say goodbye before I left.

After escaping the school children, I had lunch at the church and headed to the National Museum of Kenya with Seminarian Peter.  Seminarian Peter was very conscious of the fact that I knew next to nothing about what I was seeing out of the windows, so he made sure to talk about things we saw along the way.  One of the things he was proud to show was the "Super Highway", which stretches from Nairobi to Thika, approximately 43 kilometers (26 miles).  The highway was recently expanded from four to ten lanes and reduces traffic time between the two cities from 3 hours to 45 minutes.  A Chinese firm completed most of the engineering and construction work, but all of the highway workers I observed were of African decent. 

We arrived at the museum, where we met Fr. Celestino.  The museum offers no-fee guide service, which we used to enhance the experience.  Our guide, Duncan, was extraordinary.   He led us through the mammals found in Kenya, the evolution of human kind (with its origins in this country) the cultural cycle of life for various Kenyan tribes, and the history of Kenya until just after the won full self-governance in 1964.  I was grateful to have Fr. Celestino with us, as he contributed lots of additional knowledge that our young guide did not know.  The most surprising thing about the museum was that they allow pictures!  Seminarian Peter is an avid photographer and was able to snap pictures of everything as we observed the exhibits. 
Duncan also led us through the snake park, which held numerous snakes and reptiles from around the world.  

We ended the day at another nice restaurant suggested by Fr. Celestino.  I enjoyed beef patties, beef sausages, and wine while I conversed with my knowledgeable hosts.