Preecha Man

macho's closed = another profound thought on the way out

Last Sunday I gave my first solo-honest-to-goodness, behind-the-bully-pulpit sermon. In Kiswahili. It took place in Ipogolo Parish at the base of the Iringa Bluff. If memory serves correctly, that was also the first parish we visited in Tanzania on the grand introductory tour five years ago. If that is the case, I find it to be oddly coincidental.

As far as sermon things go, I think I did a pretty decent job. There were neither lightning bolts nor fits of laughter due to doctrinal or linguistic heresy. Scratch that laughter part. During my rousing rendition of ‘Kichwa, Mabega, Magoti, Vidole’ (Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes) there was a lot of laughter when I pointed to my ‘PUA’ and said ‘MDOMO’ by mistake. It was a little awkward but nowhere near the top five awkward moments of my life.

I ‘have the opportunity’ to give it one more time this weekend before taking it home to Tungamalenga on the 26^th. Good Times. Good Times Indeed.