It seems unreal that with the three hours time difference, we'll have got our 7.45am-10.15am service over before folks in UK are thinking of getting up. Rukundo and I are at Bishop David's Nabioth Church. He's General Secretary of the Tanzanian equivalent of UK Evangelical Alliance. He's a portly and affable brother. As we'll discover - today's his birthday.
Arriving at ten to eight, a lady in a pale green two-piece is already getting the crowds warmed up on the dance floor in front of the expansive platform. I can't help noticing that two thirds of the congregation appears to be women. She is followed by a little guy in a jacket and bright red shirt who boogies and hops theatrically, gyrating on the heels of his obligatory black winkle-pickers. (I could write a whole blog about preachers' shoes.) Bishop beams generously. Next comes a lady in a frothy dark red outfit. I'm beginning to relax about the fact that I only intend to talk for 15-20 minutes, although Bishop has proposed 50 minutes will be available before the prompt 10.00am finish. We still have to fit in the offertories, the children's talk, testimony time and introductions.
What happens next catches me out. Red lady begins to shimmy towards the Bishop. A crowd of ladies follow her, with five guys in tow holding cameras aloft. "Happy Birthday," I can make out through the 80+ decibels. The Bishop's beam broadens. He stands at the platform front with his wife, while 'blessings' are pressed into his hands by a queue of affectionate members. As we move on to the children's talk, an usher discreetly removes the pile of crumpled notes from in front of the lectern, and Mrs Bishop counts them into a neat bundle at the dignatories' side table where we're sitting.
Rukundo asides to me during the testimony time as we've been going an hour and a half and there hasn't been a break from Swahili. As the Bishop prays for them we're pushing 90 decibels. Later I find that the worship leaders also receive a 'blessing' for their ministry. Rukundo follows me at twenty to ten and we deliver on time. Afterwards, in the Bishop's office, we enjoy a cup of coffee, each made with four sachets of full cream powdered milk, and bread and runny honey applied with a spoon. I must try that again some time.
Rukundo and I slip down to the hotel restaurant and enjoy a mango juice. 1.00pm passes and eventually Len and Gregory arrive. Their 10.00am meeting finished at 1.00pm, and Len has been given a 'blessing' equivalent to £10. Time goes by and I try to ring Steven. My phone has alternately connected - with Internet - to both Airtel and Zantel, but only through the latter can I ring out. "Samahani," the nice lady keeps saying as I repeatedly fail to connect. He arrives at quarter to three, hot and apologetic. He didn't get to begin his preach until 1.00pm (but his 'blessing' was $25).
We pile into Jacob's Toyota Previa, and head of for rest and adventure. We drive past the Landmark Hotel of 2012's visit fame, and the central Barclay Bank branch, too. We pull off the road into the Atrium, an Arabic-style restaurant with tables set out under palm trees. Eventually we order, and an hour passes with no sign of a meal arriving. We're filling in the time with an animated conversation about how Multiply could do better at facilitating the visa process for UK conference invitees, and how to get Rukundo kitted out with a minibus. He's just been given a 23-year-old-car, which is somewhat inadequate for the community of 18 adults and 28 children.
Another hour passes. In half an hour the light will begin to fade, and lunch will turn into an evening meal. Our table represents half the customers. The trip to the beach has been sabotaged, and after we've finally eaten we drive round the waterfront struggling to make out any significant features. We arrive back at the hotel glad of the aircon. Manchester City versus Wigan blares from two large TV screens. Steven suggests a drink of tea all round. Another impossibly long wait follows. I take a cup up to the room and collapse into bed.
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