SUNDAY, DECEMBER 16 Today, I attended two church services and a wake. The first service was in one of the three predominant languages of Guinea. Nine people were in attendance. We sat on mats in a room with a half-wall open to the outside. We sang in two languages (it was interesting to try to read and sing the words to a couple of the songs, originally written in English, in a language unfamiliar to me.) I will not publish photos of this service, since announcing one’s Christian faith in this particular Islamic context is a matter of considerable difficulty and, sometime, persecution. It can be a long process, often starting with trusted friends. It is not my place to publicize these believers’ faith for them.
The wake was for the brother of one of the church members. Her house and yard were full of men coming to pay their respects. As special church guests, we were ushered into her living room and served a meal of bara-bara (BAHda-BAHda)—a delicious rice—and sauce with a little meat.
The second church service was in the evening, conducted in English, and attended by American, Canadian, and African missionaries and personnel from various embassies. Much more in my own tradition, it was a welcomedly* familiar end to the day.
Today's photo is of something I saw many times in Guinea, food laid out on the shoulder of the road to dry. In most cases, as shown here, it's rice, but I also saw a bleached-white root of some sort, perhaps manioc, handled the same way.
*I made that word up. Feel free to use it without asking my permission. Just footnote me in the history books.
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