Thursday, March 7, 2019
Cultural Plunge in African Church Essay
On my way to the university I always passed by this church. I heard reverberations and singing entirely I had never eyeshot much of the place. When the multicultural Class lecturer assigned the paper, the place directly came to mind. I knew it belonged to Africans because I frequently saw around African women plinth outside greeting and talking to each separate. They were non African- American because they did not speak to each other in English. At first I was apprehensive. I wondered whether I should enter the church. I do not lie with any Africans nor I do any African friends.Humans live with preconceived ideas of life other cultures, which may not necessarily be true. Not even research and an open minded approach prepares matchless for the misunder rests and surprises that emerge in cross- cultural experiences (Puffer, 2004, p. 3) I know Africa has a consider of problems with hunger and wars. I know Africa is not as developed as the rest of the world. Africans do not fit the Chinese model of watcher because of their dark skin and their bigger bodies. One Saturday, I was just restful at a park nearby and decided to enter that church.I was nervous because I re every(prenominal)y stood out. I did not want to stand out from everybody else. Everybody would know there was stranger in the place and look. I reached the door, and then I turned back. I was not very comfortable. That succeeding(a) morning roughly nine oclock I last gathered the courage and went into the church. Ushers at the door welcome me in and gave me a program. It was a large sloping theatre hall with a well-lighted podium. The choir was leading the congregation in song. There were most a 100 worshippers that day.The noise was deafening, loud music from the speakers, yelling, singing, clapping, praying, talking in tongues, dancing, jumping. patently I came in the middle of praise and worship. I began observing the Africans in that church service. It was one of the many charism atic churches in the city. I do contact at the church when I decided to enter for the evening service. They sing in both English Swahili (the person I was standing next to graciously offered this tidbit. ) All around me black men and women raise their voices and sang.The white faces were few and far between. There were absolutely no other Chinese in that church hall other than me. At first, I just stood transfixed in one spot. I wondered what was going on. I was everywherewhelmed because of the noise and the actions. Adult men and women jumping up and down let out and shouting some raised their hands in praise. It took time to discipline to the din. I am not very religious and even if I were I certainly would not make all that noise about it. I had never been to black church before. The congregation seemed to know all the lyrics to the song.I assumed that is because they met regularly and sang them in each service. The sight seemed to be happy and declared their joy all the t ime. There was a constant repetition of name Jesus. They members of the church greeted each other warm and vigorously, some shook hands, others hugged each other. The choir was dressed in African designs and sang in Swahili. In my view the Africans view religion as a communal event and even though they are in a foreign land they want to hold onto their culture. To them, dancing and shouting is celebrating life.Compared to my own Chinese community, which is very reserved at times, this display of exuberance would be frowned upon. The congregants (volunteered my neighbor again) were mainly from East Africa. At the outset I did not feel as relaxed as them. I just looked around me. Everybody was dancing and shouting. I was still. My neighbor poked me in encouragement. She held my hand and started swaying with it. At first I did not respond. Then she patted my arm in encouragement and I started bobbing and swaying with her. Her face lit up.We danced together and jumped in unison until the praise academic term was over. The next item on the agenda was a worship session, which was much muted than the praise session. I preferred this to the latter because it was more in tune with my personality. I watched as the Holy Spirit took control over the congregants. I did not really understand it. The songs were very slow scarce emotional, There was weeping and praying in tongues. Then the preacher said his sermon, which was taken into Swahili word for word. I had been in a church before but curiously some of what he said was common sense.There was some religious jargon in the sermon but it did not matter. It was entertainment to be amidst joyous and expressive people. Later after the service Joyce the wench who was sitting next to me invited me to a church event. There was a smoke of African food and drinks. It was almost a party mood as they updated each other on their week. Joyce introduced me to her friends. I was surprised that in quintuple hours I had meet mor e Africans than I had met in my entire life. subsequently the event, she invited me ago. This is a routine every Sunday. They go for the service and afterwards fertilise together as one family.Among the cultural patterns I witnessed was a divided up communion. First, they worked, worshipped and ate collectively. Secondly, they kept their language and dressing even though they were in a western country. Third, they were more animated than the Chinese in terms of body movement, speech. I was biased about Africa. According to Joyce, Africa does present problems but not everyone is dying of hungry or conflicts. The countries are create rapidly and democracy is taking root. Africans may not fit the Chinese definition of beauty but are beautiful in their self-expression.I learnt habari yako which is Swahili for how are you and mzuri sana which translates to I am very fine. I also made new friends that day and I am welcome to attend that church any Sunday. By the end of the service I had a new bounce in my step. I did begin misconceptions and I was shy(p) of whether to enter that church. In fact, I did it just to complete an assignment for my Multicultural Class. Nevertheless, I am glad I went to the church because I have gained much more than I anticipated. Reference Puffer, S. (2004). International management insights from manufacture and practice. New York M. E Sharpe Inc.
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