Holuwon - Sun., March 2, 08

I had a duel last night. On this side is me. On the other is a mouse and rat. They keep wanting my teas and soups. Finally, I place the soup up high on an open closet. What this house needs is a good mouser. (Later they are placed in a plastic container)
I find "Last of the Mohicans", portions of it. I am delighted. I enjoy the evening when Yariut leaves, stomach is full, or partway, and I can read unbothered. The Yali believe that being alone is to be avoided at all cost. Always, there is someone who stops in or walks with me. Solitude is understood as a failure of the community.
Sunday worship - Yariut arrives close to 9:00, and ushers me to the Gereja (church). Singing has already been in full voice for 30 minutes. The Gereja has several steps to a small porch and entry is at the back. Stepping over children, we enter. Immediately at the back is a row of benches, also a row along the very front right. Otherwise, worshipers are seated on the floor; men on the right and women on the left. The bench loses someone and I sit. I'm fortunate not to be ushered to the front. The leader sings verses as the audience replies with a chorus. There never is silence, just less noise - children milling, crying, whooping, low talking. The leader carries on. One man stands on stage and begins a prayer, fig leaf stance. At the length of his "prayer" he must be either reciting every bit of Bible knowledge he has, or is relating his family history. My bet is on the former. A cockroach scurries among the seated, no one notices. Now the doorway is blocked with children and late comers. Trapped! Come prepared, no bathroom breaks. Up stands the preacher and begins a too long rendition of something. Bible is read periodically. At the 30 minute mark he shows no signs of slowing. Where did he learn that? Or is it for my benefit? Children continue milling. Heat builds. Worshipers are restless, some node off. A few parents walk out with children, i remember that trick. Pinch the child... Suddenly, since I didn't hear it coming, the preacher is finished. One more song and I am told that I cn leave. What no offering? The mundele (Kituba for white guy) could be tapped for some cash. Apparently it happened prior to my arrival. I am guessing that won't happen again.
Evening comes, again the rain, a welcome visitor. Candles and soup. An old man brought me 4 sweet potatoes following service. Tomorrow!
On the stove is a large kettle which I use for a hot shower (pour water over oneself). My first hot shower since Kota Kinabalu.