The Proyecto MAMA school where I work is connected to the local Mennonite church here in 6 de Mayo (the part of San Pedro Sula that I live). I live about 10 houses away, so it’s a short safe walk down the dirt road to work or church. The church is small-ish congregation but it’s hard to judge the actual size because there are multiple services per week and I don’t think everyone goes to all of them. I’m pretty sure there is something happening at the church about every night whether it is a bible study, youth group, or service. The age limit on the youth group is a lot more flexible than the way I’ve perceived youth group back home. There are people in the group from high school aged through early thirties, including people with kids. It’s just interesting to think about the contrast with youth in my home church. This past summer I was a youth sponsor for the youth convention in Pittsburgh, meaning I was an adult in charge of the kids. Now I step into the youth group here and I’m not even close to being the oldest.
The church building is a rectangular concrete structure. It’s two stories tall which is taller than most all the surrounding structures. The second story is new and functional but not finished with makeshift lighting and almost complete stairs (have to be careful going up there). The first story is the sanctuary of the church. The floor is a smooth concrete and the back half of the church is left open, free of chairs or benches. Staring about half way into the room there is a section of plastic lawn chairs in the middle with wooden benches across the aisle on either side. In the front there are steps that span the width of the room up to raised stage both are set with white tiles. On the stage there is a sound board where a tangle of cords goes out to speakers, mics, and a keyboard. Also there are a variety of percussion instruments including a full drum set, tambourines, and turtle shell. There are sheets that hang on the wall at the front of the sanctuary hiding a mural behind them.
The other day the service started with my host parents and I walking into the room at the time when the service was to start and the only person there was the pastor kneeling on the stage steps praying. Many people kneel at the steps to pray either silently or aloud or in song. Gradually people started filtering in and either found a seat or went to pray at the front. Some people’s prayer turned into song but each was singing something different. Then one of the songs slowly became popular and people began singing in a cappella unison. The keyboardist arrived, finished his praying and setting up the keyboard, and now is working on figuring out what key people are singing in. Soon after the drummer sat down in his stool and laid down a rhythm. They sang a string of praise songs that were loud enough that I probably wouldn’t have been able to understand even if they were in English. This experience illustrates the difference in the perception of time between home and here. I’m finding that lots of “starting times” are often more like suggestions. It was something I was expecting to encounter but it still feels weird because of the difference of cultural norms. Last Monday evening was a surprise birthday party for the pastor. The invitation said 7:00 pm and we didn’t leave the house until 7:15… I can’t imagine casually arriving late to a surprise party in the States. It turned out to be fine and were some of the first to arrive. Plus the pastor didn’t arrive for another hour, but soon after they had him blindfolded and swinging at a piñata.
I also have been fighting some kind of stomach bug for the past few days and have not had much of an appetite. I think I’m starting to swing back but it’s been a tough one to shake. I’m Ready to be done with it though.
