Nairobi: Day 4

This morning I went to church with Peter. We were late because Peter allowed me to sleep in. Of course, this made me feel terrible, but he seemed OK with our 15 minutes of tardiness. We sat in the back row, off to the side behind a congregation of several hundred worshipers. A lot of people were out of town on a mission to the United States.

The pastor spoke in English, and was echoed by a Swahili speaking interpreter. Sections were read verbatim from the Bible, and the rest was built around praises, analogies, and music. Football (soccer) is definitely a national pastime in Kenya, and the pastor had an interesting way of weaving it into the message for the day. He described the fervent enthusiasm Kenyans have for football; how the excitement and strong interest in the game is enough to get you standing on your chair, shouting with all intensity, fully and completely engaged. The pastor went on to explain, that God shares that same interest; that same enthusiasm in you. He too is standing on the edge of his chair, cheering wildly for your success, believing in you, fully and completely engaged.

There were so many familiar rituals with this church. If I had to assign it a denomination, I would lean towards Pentecostal. There was a band and choir, the pastor spoke in tongues along with half the congregation, the preaching was tempered with bouts of yelling and jumping, an offering was taken, and the sermon ended with the sinners prayer and call to alter.

The choir sang a few songs from a hymnal allowing the congregation to follow along, and you could sense joy in the room, but nothing compared to the overwhelming response to the man who came up to lead a traditional tribal song. That’s what really got everyone on their feet, raising up their hands in praise. Everyone was dancing and singing. I don’t understand why they would ever sing the western songs. Clearly they are not as moved by them.

After church, we went to lunch and then to Bomas of Kenya. I had reservations about this place because I’m sensitive to indigenous persons who are exploited in the name of tourism. Bomas of Kenya showcases traditional African dancers, and also has an area of reconstructed traditional African villages. Bomas means homestead, so Bomas Kenya loosely translates to Houses of Kenya.

When I have a better Internet connection, I'll post some video of the dances, but for now, here are some pictures.


Peter had never been here, and I'm not sure if he'll take other tourists there. There wasn't much information to guide you through the reconstructed bomas. Luckily Peter was able to describe many of the tribes.


Peter is from the Kamba tribe.



And this picture really really wants to be sideways, so tilt your head please:


As if this wasn't enough for one day, we went into the city that night. Of course, I have no pictures to show for that interesting excursion.