I went to church on Sunday with my family. They are catholic and go to mass at 9 in the am.

The church was so full that people sit on benches outside the church and try to listen to the sermon. They are pressed together inside and outside so everyone can fit in the limited number of benches and chairs. At 9am, the priest walks thru spraying people with holy water using a small tree leaf then continues inside to give his sermon.

During the sermon, people that work for the church pass out sugar cubes and water for people that brought cups for the water. Thirty minutes into the sermon, they bring out a loud-speaker thru which noises come out of that I assume is the priest speaking. Kids are crying and I’m cramping up from sitting in 3 centimeters of bench.

As I sat there outside of the church with about 100 other people not being able to see or hear what’s going on inside, I did understand one thing.

Jesus’ words in the Bible relate to them way more than they do to me. These villagers that walked miles to get here were living out Jesus’ lives. As I sat there looking at the Camerouneans sitting outside the church, I understood why did they it. The Bible was for them.

I am often reminded of my friend Brian’s words about our lives back in the US. He says that we don’t see God in our lives because we are surrounded by things that we built. The houses, buildings, cars that we take to work to make our money to pay for our things.

The beautiful town of Bagante. This is the market where I unsuccessfully search for deodorant every day.

Some fellow volunteers watching a soccer game on a weekend. The team on the right won.

My host dad posing in front of his palace. He’s a High school science professor. Super smart guy, and really nice and helpful.

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