Kerekeng

Ons goeie goed hangt te drogen en onze opgezette enkels beginnen te slinken. Almost five hours of sitting, and mainly standing, in church during the hottest time of the day takes its toll. We joined our landlady to the Sunday service of Saint Paul (denomination: ‘it’s from South-Africa’), and got the works.
We already gathered it would be a big occasion when Saturday evening the church’s brass band was practicing for hours within earshot, and Francine told us it would be a special service for us. Later on some of the band members had some food in our yard to get strength for their Saturday night out. In church we noticed Saturday night also takes its toll.
Sunday morning we put on our best, freshly ironed clothes, Bram tied a tie around his neck, Maud tried to keep a hat balanced on her head, and we managed to haul Francine in our bakkie.
In the churchyard we first sat under a tree with some of the big shots, while the others got the church in shape. Than we made our big entrance, and Bram, being seated with the bontate behind the reverent, realized that disappearing after an hour was not an option. Also not for Maud, who sat in front with the bomme.
After some songs the reverent made his first speech, welcoming rra and mme Abraham (luckily he ordered a lady to stand next to him and translate), and mme Francine Metswe. Than there was a long service, almost five hours, with lots of singing, a few bible readings, two short sermons (again translated), and a lot of brass band, marching around or just standing.
After an hour Francine asked me if I wanted to go to the toilet. When I said no, she whispered: “but they have a flush toilet here, very nice.” Which reminded me of last year in Moremi. We were camping in a nice spot without other people around, and with no other facilities than a tap. After a few days, during one of our game drives, we met another car. Custom is you stop and exchange information. When the driver, an urologist form Cape Town, heard we might go to the campsite where he was staying, he said with one of the happiest smiles I’ve ever seen: “They have flush toilets there, so nice.” He failed to mention the hippos, but that’s another story.
Back to our kerekeng. Although (or because) we didn’t understand a word of all the Setswana songs, the power of the singing was overwhelming. A pleasant surprise for us was the ANC-song, the only one we both recognized.
Bram was a bit overwhelmed by the two ladies who started to spin around and speak in tongues, but he managed to hide himself behind his camera. Maud did what she saw the other bomme do when they got into the danger zone - grab a toddler and bring it (and yourself) in the safety zone.
The last hour was dedicated to the collection. Francine firmly held Bram and Maud beside her and directed us through the whole procedure, protecting us from breaking protocol or overspending. The service closed with a monumental handshake. Young to old, bomma and borra to bomme and bontate, everyone shakes everyone’s hand in a certain order. After which the tuck shop next to the church opened and everyone rushed out to get some lekkerkies.