Christmas celebrations in this area are traditionally held on Christmas eve, preferably late at night. Many villages make it an all-night service full of choir numbers and the Christmas story played out, usually by the women, not forgetting a sermon somewhere between 1 and 4 am, ending near dawn with a communion service. Christmas Day, people get going slowly, with the main activities being dinner and visiting. Bilili Mandondo, the village just past us, holds a dance in the afternoon.
Ever since we first came, when our children were very small, I’ve been assigned the role of Zachariah, the father of John the Baptist (Luke 1:5-25,39-80), first because he and Elizabeth only appear in the first act of the play, then disappear. It allowed me to leave my small children home asleep for a couple of scenes, then hurry back to them. We Westerners don’t have the appetite for all-night events that Congolese do, especially when small children are concerned. Now, I think it is also because the other women, many of whom don’t read, are intimidated by the idea of learning Zachariah’s long prophecy. Since we have a small cast, most people play several roles. We don’t have children at home now, so this year, I played Zachariah, as usual, played Joseph's mother bringing the gossip from the women at the Nazareth well (he had to have heard about Mary's pregnancy from someone, and I don't think it was Mary), and a second angel (one of the host visiting the shepherds, then a replacement for Gabriel in later scenes, to allow the woman playing the angel Gabriel to play a malevolent Herod's wife).
(a picture of that well-known scene in the Christmas story where Joseph's mother scolds him about the gossip floating around Nazareth.)
Lots of kids of neighboring villages came. By 9:30 pm, the announced time for the service to start, the center of Lusekele resounded with mbodias, home-made firecrackers set off by hurling them against a hard surface like a wall. Some older kids bent on creating real disturbances were sent home. By 11 pm the generator was running and the service started. At 11:30 the curtains opened and we presented the Christmas story, with occasional stops for special numbers and set changes. The audience was, as usual, enthusiastic, especially about the special touches actors put to comedic parts like the census. The most surprising part, to us, the players, was when the soldiers were busy “killing” the children throughout the audience, someone set off three firecrackers. It was absolutely appropriate, but startled the women who were supposed to run through wailing over their dead children so much they completely forgot until it was too late.
We finished at 2:20 am, followed by more special numbers, the sermon and communion. I hear that Songo children got home at dawn. But I had collected my things and gone home and to bed right after the curtain rang down on our play.
Ed enjoyed a rare sleep in. I spent the morning cooking, then we had a missionary Christmas get- together at Vanga: Christmas dinner, then carols until voices, lips (of the trumpet player), and small children got tired.
Merry Christmas!
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