At the church inauguration

Sunday, February 26, 2017
Ivato, MG.05, Madagascar
The President came in his helicopter -- the road was bad. I was seated with Susan in the second row with an obstructed view, but before it started we were moved to the front row and I was beside the wife of the tallest bishop.
The service began at 9:30. The church was packed and some had to stay outside -- people had come from the city. After a few prayers and hymns, the tall bishop gave a homily which his wife whispered to me in simultaneous translation, in which he said that the church had been renovated with God's help, that it could not have been renovated without God's help, and that God is always with us. He went on to add quite a number of things which were not at all inconsistent with the foregoing.
The pews showed evidence of having been designed, although not necessarily for humans, and they were close enough together that my knees thought they were kneeling even when my buttocks knew they were seated. We were so close together that when we sat down there was a risk that our hips would jam and we would have to call for a crowbar or some cooking oil. (I am not tall, but I am tall in Madagascar). At 11:30 Susan whispered to me that the service was half over -- needless to say, I had been hoping for a larger fraction.
One of the clerics gave a history of the church. The entire service was in Malagasy, but I understood one thing, namely that the church has a long history. People with collection baskets swept the room from left to right. Sensing that we still had something in our other pocket, they then completed the double-shakedown from right to left. The organist played Handel's Hallelujah Chorus, which the bishop's wife and I agreed is a beautiful piece of music. This was followed by communion, which took a long time.  Susan then said the service was almost finished, which I figured, because how do you top the Hallelujah Chorus and communion? You shouldn't even try, not when you are nearing the three-hour mark without an interval.  
However, several of the people in white robes had not yet had a crack at the microphone, and were very reluctant to pass up the chance. Then the President of Madagascar gave a speech which drew laughs. The national poet declaimed a poem which drew bigger laughs. Then the tall bishop had a second go, which may have been a mistake, because he managed to inspire neither a chuckle nor a translation. Finally at 1 pm the bishops adjusted their special hats and headed for the exit, followed by the congregation.
The Bible says a church service should last an hour and you have to go once a week. I think it's in Deuteronomy. Then in the letter to the Cetaceans it tells you how to deal with overtime: two hours counts as three, three count as six, four count as ten. I figure three-and-a-half counts as seven-and-a-half, so I am now good until mid-April, by which time I will be out of the country.
Susan and I walked home on the bad road.  On the way we passed the church with no roof.

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2025-02-17

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