The reason I was forced to wash the banana cement out of my hair was church. Hannah was talking about a special service today and because I hadn’t done too much this weekend, I decided to go with! We took a taxi with her roommate and two other girls (because you can fit six people comfortably in a taxi here, suck it Kenzie!) to the hotel where the service was being held. Apparently the church wasn’t quite big enough. Service was supposed to start at three, but adding Ghana time into the equation, it didn’t start until 4:15. The pastor started normally, like any other services, but then I thought he had some sort of heart attack. He started freaking out, yelling unintelligible things into his microphone! Then everyone started doing it, leaving Hannah and I staring at each other. They were speaking in tongues, yippee. So we sat in the conference room of a nice hotel, trying to shield our ears from the shrieking, yelling and jumbling that surrounded us. I’ve heard a lot of stories from others here who have wandered into a service with prayers in tongues. Most of them are horror stories of pastors and roommates trying to expel the devil from the student’s body, forcing them to speak in tongues. Needless to say, I was freaked out a bit! Fortunately, after 30 minutes of gobbldy-gook, the service flipped into English. It was a special service, like Hannah had heard: speaking about how important it was to speak in tongues. We made it through three hours of the program before our bodies told us it was dinner time and we couldn’t wait any longer. We stopped at a chicken place on the way home and found a shared taxi for 1.50GH each (which is amazing by the way)! It was nice to see a service with tongues because they’re so different from the churches I’m used to. But I was still glad to be walking outside after we ditched. We asked after we got out and the service definitely would have gone on another hour, if not much more. An interesting day, that’s for sure.
something you will never forget!
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