A Holy Hat Trick

This past weekend we hit all three major Judea-Christian religions. Since Peace Kawomera, the fair trade coffee co-op we visited, is a multifaith group, we decided to participate in all three religions' prayer sessions.

We got things going on Friday when we participated in the 2 o'clock prayers at the Mosque. Men and women were separated. We sat in the back of the mosque, separated from the men by a sheet. We all donned our hijabs (head coverings) and entered the mosque. I don't think Islam is for me due to the sheer discomfort I experienced sitting on the hard floor and well overheated from making sure my entire body was covered with clothing. We, of course, understood nothing that occurred as it was conducted in Luganda and Lugisu as well as Arabic for the prayers. But the women encouraged us to go through the movements with them. I've never done that before, so that was interesting.

There were many memorable quotes and moments from this experience. For instance, one baby started screaming at the top of its lungs when Elaine looked and smiled at it. This was rather disruptive of the prayers/sermon going on in the men's section. When the prayers and speeches were finally over and we were able to leave the mosque, the women all began talking to us in full-out Lugisu and we couldn't understand a word of it. The antidote to this was the child that came up to us and yelled loudly in our faces, 'Howayou?' (How are you?) He would shriek and run away when you responded. Despite my physical discomfort, it was nice to share this holy day with the Muslim community, especially since I never made it into a mosque during my time in Senegal.

On Saturday, we joined the Abayudaya (literally, the Sons of Judah, a Jewish community) for morning services. This was an extraordinary experience. It was incredible to watch them don their talit and beautiful woven kippot. Judaism was a major missing element for me while I was in Senegal, but here I was with Africans saying familiar prayers. I love that prayers are universal. Sometimes the melodies differed or they sang prayers and psalms in Lugisu, but certainly ones like the Shemah and Aleinu were to the same tune I grew up singing. It is incredible to share these prayers with Jews across the world, even in remote Uganda.

It was a long service. Their rabbi was actually just ordained in the US at the conservative rabbinical college. They chanted 8 aliyahs from the parsha compared to the standard 5. What was particularly meaningful for me was that the Torah portion was the very same portion from which I chanted for my Bat Mitzvah. So I heard the very same verses I chanted 9 years ago repeated in Uganda. I never would've thunk it!

The parsha was Pinchas in Numbers. At the end of the portion, is the story of the daughters of Tzelophechad (sp). Briefly, these daughters did not receive their father's land when he died and instead it was passed on to distant male relatives. They didn't think this was fair, so they took the issue to Moses, who took the issue to God, who decided that yes, the women were correct, they ought to receive their father's land. It was a major victory for women in the Old Testament.

The Rabbi did his D'var Tarah on this story. He told the women in the synagogue that they could and should stand up for themselves if they thought something was unfair. He also told the men that they needed to listen and do their part to treat women fairly. He cited the example of his grandfather who called for an end to the custom by which women were not allowed to eat chicken because it was a delicacy. Now everyone eats it. It was an example that change is possible. They served chicken for lunch. :)

It was inspiring to sit there and listen to the rabbi's message in a society that is typically oppressive to women. How empowering! I hope the girls heard him loud and clear, though sadly it did not look as though any of them were paying attention. Oh well. Change begins slowly, I suppose.

To complete the hat trick, we went to church on Sunday. Here I did not understand a single thing because the service was conducted in Lugisu. I busied myself reading a bit of the Bible and studying the map on the inside cover. The service began with a hymn sung to the tune of 'Oh my darling.' It lasted for 2 hours and was followed by an hour of speeches. The Ugandans certainly do love their speeches. Even Brant was asked to go up and give a mini-sermon.

All of the houses of prayer were quite modest. However, the Abayudaya are experiencing an interesting phenomenon. Western Jewish organizations are pouring resources into this community and fighting to 'claim' the Abayudaya. This makes me furious. It is way too reminiscent of colonialism. In addition, it is causing tensions with neighboring villages that have not received the same financial support. It's hard to know where to draw the line with financial support. Because on the other hand, it's incredible that their rabbi was able to attend Rabbinical school in the States.

It was truly exceptional to share Shabbat with the Abayudaya. And I appreciate the gesture our group made by visiting with all three religious groups.

I'd like to end with a beautiful metaphor J.J., a Jewish co-founder of Peace Kawomera, made. As he toured us through his gardens he told us coffee was the perfect metaphor for peace. He explained that it grows best when surrounded by other plants. Together all the plants coexist. Their coffee co-op teaches the rest of the world an important lesson about coexistence, collaboration, and cooperation.