Mass: Nigerian Style

I have been fortunate enough to be able to make it to Mass here the last three weeks and shouldn't have much of a problem from here on out. My first week, sadly, I was not able to because I couldn't arrange a driver in time and didn't really know how to go about leaving the camp. But, my second week, determined to make it, I was able to arrange a driver days in advance and find a few churches not too far from me. I spent a little time at work googling Catholic Churches in the area and ultimately just decided that the first time I should just go to whichever is closest. I found the Mass time on the website slated for 9:00 AM, printed off directions and a map of how to get there, and was all ready for my driver when he picked me up at 8:15 Sunday morning. To be honest, I never really gave much thought to how different the service would likely be. I had heard from people that it would be, but in my naïveté just didn't really think much about it. The first time it actually crossed my mind was when I showed my driver the address and he just started to chuckle. He asked me if I was sure that's where I wanted to go and I responded with a hesitant, "Yes, is that okay?" He followed up by saying if that's where I wanted to go he'd have no problem taking me, but he still seemed plenty amused at the idea.

It didn't take us nearly as long as I thought to get there, so we pulled up twenty minutes early around 8:40. My driver, still smiling, told me to call him if I needed him as I hopped out of the car. As soon as we arrived I knew exactly why he was getting a kick out of this. As I first walked inside I noticed this church had a very unusual set up - half of it was inside and the other half was outside. There were plastic chairs set up all around the outside of the building from the back wrapped all the way around the sides. I entered from the side and, for fear of being awkwardly stared at if I went too far in, just found an open seat as close as I could and sat down. I could hear someone talking inside rather emphatically, but figured it was just somebody giving a talk or announcement before Mass started. As soon as I sat down I also realized that I had no view of the altar, or inside of the church whatsoever because I was stuck on the side of the building. There were plenty of other people there sitting with me who I guess were all satisfied with not being able to see anything. I quickly realized how bad my seat was, but was too nervous to get up and scout for another one because I felt so out of place. Before long, I realized we were smack in the middle of the service. It took me about 20-25 minutes before I actually realized this because the homily was so long and it wasn't until afterwards that I could decipher how far along they were. Apparently the 9 AM start time on the website was completely inaccurate. People kind of came and went throughout, almost as if there was no definite start or end time. It seemed to be a very casual come and go as you please.

Needless to say, the experience didn't get any smoother from there. It finally got to time for Communion and I saw people inside starting to get up and form a line. I stayed put because I figured people around me would just start heading in when it was our turn... That never happened. Nobody around me ever moved and before I knew it I looked up and it was all over. I guess the majority of the people outside just don't go up for Communion. I don't know. I never really figured it out. About twenty minutes later another procession began and people around me started going up to get in line. I figured now it was maybe our turn so I followed suit. I didn't realize until I got close to the front that it still wasn't Communion, but people bringing gifts and offerings up to the altar. I noticed this when I was about five people away and realized I couldn't walk up there empty handed and not drop anything. I quickly grabbed my wallet and whipped out a few bills just so I could drop something and not look stupid. On the walk back outside I was able to scan the whole crowd and quickly realize I was the one and only white person in attendance. All eyes were definitely on me. This was certainly a local village church and I don't think they were used to seeing anybody like me there regularly. This brought me back and made perfect sense of my driver's initial reaction. Anyways, it was quite the experience. From the point I arrived during the homily, the service lasted another hour and 45 minutes and still wasn't over yet. The priest had given the final blessing at one point, but everyone still remained as more processions began to occur. I couldn't really understand what was happening, but parents were bringing children up to the altar, people were bringing food and gifts, there was all kinds of stuff going on. Ultimately, I ended up leaving early because I had no idea when it was going to end and I truthfully did feel slightly out of place. It was really neat to see so many Nigerian Catholics and share in their worship with them, but it was totally different than anything I'm used to. Definitely an experience I'll never forget. And don't get me wrong, I didn't feel any hostility or unfriendliness of any sort. I never felt unsafe, just confused I suppose.

On the way back, my driver and I had a good laugh about my experience, but he informed me that there are tons of Catholic Churches in the area and we could keep trying them all until I found one I liked. One of them that he mentioned is catered specifically for expats and offers an international Mass, but is slightly farther away. He thought I would like this one so we agreed to try it the following week; and he was totally right. After attending Mass the next Sunday at the church he recommended I felt much more at home. He was right that the service is offered for expats and is done concurrently in both English and French, but mostly English. They'll read the readings in both French and English and do a couple of the songs in French. Coincidentally, I even met a couple people there who also work at Chevron. To my surprise, they informed me that there's a bus that actually takes people there from camp every Sunday. This made me happy because it means I wouldn't have to continue coordinating a driver every single Sunday (not to mention, the bus is free, unlike a driver). Just one less hassle. I took the bus this past weekend like they recommended and was able to meet more Chevron Catholics on the ride over. I'm really excited to continue going every week and get to know these people and settle in to the church. It truly seems like everywhere I go things just always work out so nicely. I feel super blessed to have found this community already and know it's all in His hands. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't all been easy and there's certain things I'm really starting to miss, but experiences like this are what make it all worth it.


Random thing I learned today: the guest house across the street serves Johnnie Walker black label. Amazing. They don't keep it out on display, but if you ask they'll pull it out for you. I was already starting to get pretty sick of my two beer options here (Becks and Heineken), so I think I've definitely found my new night cap. And yes, I just wrote a post about going to church and finished by talking about Scotch. I'm Catholic... What of it?