Morning Mass in Douala

Let me try to describe for you what it is like here to go to morning Mass. When we go outside it is still dark, although not entirely quiet as we are in a city and there is always at least some traffic noise. But it is nonetheless peaceful as the courtyard is not yet filled with patients, the moon is shining down, and only a few people are about. The Sisters and I murmur some soft bonjours, but nothing more than that.  

One of the men who watch the front gate at night emerges to drive us and the drive is slightly less perilous then as the traffic is a bit lighter early in the morning. As we approach we see many people walking in the dark toward the church. Older women slightly bent with age, young men with a young man swagger, older men dressed for work, children in their colorful school uniforms, and mothers with little ones.

It is pleasant in the church as large fans are blowing and the heat of the day has not yet arrived in full force. The pews are a bit dusty and I always see the Sisters wipe them clean before they sit. The benches on which we kneel are hard wood. There are empty spaces in the pews, but not a great many.

The church itself is wooden with painted murals of the Stations of the Cross along the walls. A large bouquet of Bird of Paradise flowers fronts the altar and periodically flashing red and green lights surround the large gold tabernacle.

The Order of Mass does not differ, so I can follow along even though I cannot understand more than a few words of what is said. The accompanying peace and joy are the same. And the singing! I would go for the singing alone. It is jubilant and soaring, sometimes accompanied by clapping hands and swaying bodies.

As we leave the church we see Douala burst to life with people gathering everywhere, roadside food carts doing a brisk business, children running to school, and motorbikes weaving in and out. The trip home is a lively affair with the Sisters talking and laughing. I, on the other hand, grip the arm rest as the driver darts in and out of the terrifying traffic and only relax when the metal gate opens and we reenter the courtyard, nourished for the day ahead. 

waiting for Mass to begin with the sound of singing