Getting the Bishop's goat ... leg

Of all the wonders I have observed here in Tanzania, yesterday – Sunday, 9-7, took the cake! But let me give you some background first. This was the day I went with the Bishop, Mdimi Mhologo, to some villages – far away (about 2 hours one way by Land Rover) – for confirmations. The Bishop met us at the first village – Nagulo – because he was on the last day of a four day journey – doing confirmations at the far end of the Diocese – about 130 kms or 78 miles away. He had stayed in a village over night.

We arrived, and of course, had “chai” – hot tea or coffee, a hardboiled egg – “still warm from the pot, not the chicken” the Bishop advised me – and that wonderful fried dough thing – which reminds me of the “fried cakes” (cake donuts fried in hot oil) that my grandmother used to make. We then got “dressed up” as one of the seven other priests who were there said. There were too many people to hold the confirmations in the church – even though this is a fairly new parish, the members had already outgrown the small structure they started with just several years ago. The head of the parish committee – kind of like a senior warden – showed me the digging around the church, which was the start of their new structure – to be built in stages, as they had the money – starting after this year’s harvest (after the rains in December- March). The confirmation was held outside, where the people had constructed a kind of verandah – covered by a tent made from cloth feed sacks sewn together to block the Bishop, we priests and the confirmandi. They had also strung rope with brightly colored strips of cloth – and set up several long tables for us to sit behind, covered with beautiful cloth – purple, for the Bishop’s table, of course!

There were over 100 young people and adults to be confirmed. Confirmation can occur here after a person is 12 years old, and has had about 6 months of instruction. The candidates are trained by the catechist of the parish and/or the youth worker (youth begins at age 18 here – and ends around 40). They are then examined by several priests – the local priest, the priest in charge of the deanery (called the coordinator) before they are declared ready for confirmation. Yeah, buddy- you can bet we are going to have some conversations about how we do confirmation when I get home!!!

It was really interesting to see the extreme similarities between our confirmation service and theirs – right down to the little pieces of paper each confirmand had so that the Bishop would know their names! (Okay, we use index cards…). There were the officious priests, fussing around to make sure that the cloths put down for the confirmands to kneel on were “just right” – and then they fussed about how each young person was holding their papers – or kneeling up straight, etc. I could hear my old 5th grade teacher, Sister Mary Cletus, and see her “look” on the faces of those priests.

The service was not a Eucharistic one – in this Diocese, they are still more familiar with Morning Prayer rather than communion each Sunday. The Bishop preached for 45 minutes…and also gave a talk about the Diocese and what happened at Lambeth – that is, I think he did – the service and all the talks were in Chigogo, the local language – so I didn’t understand much. (Ok, give me a break – I wouldn’t have understood much either if it was in Kiswahili!) A very wonderful priest, Father Erastos, translated as much as he could for me – he is the coordinator of the Diocese, the parish priest at the neighboring village – Nwikita (spelling??) and the father of two very cute kids! After the service, the head of the parish committee, the youth workers, the women’s fellowship folks and I am not really sure who else, gave the parish report – all very formal. So, the confirmation was kind of like our Sunday service but no Eucharist, a Rector’s Forum featuring the Bishop, and the annual meeting all in one. The Bishop gets to each village usually only once a year, so it is a very big deal. There are also gifts given – actually, to support the Diocese: huge sacks of peanuts and sunflower kernels, maize, and, no fooling, I saw at least one live chicken in the back of the Bishop’s land rover! We might consider asking Bishop Neil if we can pay our Diocesan-asking like that! I suggest the Vestry gets busy raising chickens immediately!

A word about the Bishop. His is a compelling presence. When you meet him, you get a sense of energy that is barely suppressed. He keeps an incredible schedule – doing four days of confirmation almost every weekend – because when it rains in December to March, many of the roads are impassible. They call him “Baba Askofu” – “Father Bishop” - -and he is a very wonderful, fatherly presence. As one person put it in the Diocese, he really knows how to work the crowd! He has a wonderful sense of humor, is strong and decisive – and he is well-versed in the canons and follows them. He is known for his strict adherence to policy and procedure – but also for his patience and kindness. He is a person that you like “right off.” We had a little time to talk – and he explained much to me – he enjoys wittiness and puns –so we got along great. When I introduced myself in English, he told the people I was “speaking in tongues” and so he had to interpret like in the epistles of Paul. Bishop Mdimi is a driving force in this Diocese – and was nominated to become the Primate of Tanzania last year. (Bishop Mokiwa of Dar es Salaam was elected). His is the only Diocese in TZ that ordains women – since 2001 – and he has taken a lot of criticism for his moderate to progressive stands.

Okay, here comes the amazing part. After the service, we had lunch. Huge plates of rice, “meat stew” (it turned out to be goat), and livers (goat, too) were served, with the usual bottles of Coke. Sprite and orange Fanta soda. A fine meal was had by all. At the end of the dinner, the head of the parish committee strode into the place of the meal, with something long and slender wrapped in a plastic bag. At first, I couldn’t see what it was. Then, he presented this item to the Bishop with some ceremony – IT WAS THE LEG OF A GOAT WITH THE HOOF STILL ON!!!!!!!

Now, I have been very cool, calm and collected the whole time I have been here – even when I saw a small snake on Saturday outside my door – even when my first meal was Chinese in this town. But apparently, the look of my face was priceless – mouth agape, etc. The Bishop took one look at me and burst out laughing, explaining that it is the custom to present the fourth leg of the goat to the guest, with the hoof on, to prove that you actually served goat – and not, like, monkey or dog or something. Kind of like those restaurants that serve you trout with the head still on, etc. I almost could not recover – but when I stopped laughing at myself – I replied – “Bishop, I have heard of people giving you a hand – but never a leg!!!” Now, it was his turn to laugh out loud!

We ventured next to a small village about 10 km (6 miles) away – and the first thing I saw was a small goat tied up inside the small church structure. Again, my face betrayed what I was thinking – the goat was bleating piteously – and when the Bishop caught my eye, I asked – “is she crying because she knows you will be taking something of herself back with you today?’ Bishop, laughing, again, said, “not today, not today…”