January 6, 2008

According to Nigerian projected plan, early this morning (instead of yesterday) we went to “the village” in Kaduna: otherwise called Zankwa, Fatia. We went to the large catholic church for their third mass. The place was packed. People came from everywhere. When we arrived, after some wicked driving, they were pouring out the doors from the previous service. There are three services in all and from what I hear they are all packed. Father Vincent had been taking the place of the parish priest who had been on a short break, since his return to Nigeria. Today he became a “free man.” We all lived it up in the energy of that freedom. It was much easier to encounter the local folks, with the three guys. There was no place closed to us. We interrupted a Sunday school class taking place in the back yard of a cousin priest’s parish house to take photos with the kids. We stopped at a New Year’s celebration where there was drumming and dancing. We chased down the scared children, who ran away from their swinging at the sight of a white woman. We walked into their home sight and made peace with them. We stopped at a mission to the poorest of the poor who’ve taken in orphaned babies. I have no concept of who is who and what the social classes and rankings are. I was told afterward that a man I had been discussing corruption and politics with was associated with the military somehow and had armed guards around his house. Later, in Kaduna I am given the red carpet in a posh hotel where we will be staying for the next few days. I am told that this man owns the hotel. I find it very bizarre that a humble Amish girl is in this very interesting place. This is too weird.

Yet I was reminded that I am being well cared for, as Sister Mary has called her brother (Father Vincent) several times and wondered or rather, demanded, if I am being taken care of properly. She called twice. Once when we were in the car. She must have heard the radio music and it didn’t sound like church music to her. Thus, she demanded of her brother, “Where have you taken her?! What is that music? Will I have to come and bring her back to Jos?” Believe me these guys have no choice in the matter as to caring for me properly, since they would have Mary to recon with and I assure you they are afraid. I spoke with Mary later to reassure her I was enjoying myself and well cared for. She laughed at my stories of the terrified children.