Cange, Haiti, is the place to be on Palm Sunday. Not only is it Palm Sunday, but it's also their celebration of thanksgiving to God: "Mesi Bondye 2012" reads the banner. I wrote this post a few years ago when I was living in Haiti. Due to issues with power and low band width, I couldn't get my pictures to upload, so I put off posting it. Well, it's been a while, but Palm Sunday has rolled back around this year, so it's about time I finally shared this.
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| banner over the road for the occasion |
Palm Sunday Processions in Cange
I didn’t have time to post anything earlier on Holy Week and Easter, but there were quite a number of amazing things I would like to share with you.
The first is from Palm Sunday. We went to Cange, home of the hospital run by Zanmi Lasante/Partners in Health, Paul Farmer’s organization. I hadn’t realized it was on the same campus as the Episcopal Church. It was wonderful to see it after hearing about it for so many years. If you haven’t already done so, you should immediately find yourself a copy of
Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder and read all about it.
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Art Center for the Cange Campus of the Episcopal Church and the hospital run by Zanmi Lansante/Partners in Health
I am still very sorry I never got to go shopping here! I hear the art for sale is really wonderful, and I've seen some of the iron work produced in the area. For example, in the pictures of the church interior, look at the crucifix on the back wall. |
Right now, however, I would like to focus on two amazing parts of the Palm Sunday liturgy. Palm Sunday is the anniversary of their founding, so they always have a special thanksgiving as part of the service – and do they know how to give thanks! And, so very Episcopalian of them, they can process. The Palm Sunday procession with the palms and the offertory procession were like nothing I have ever seen.
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| lining up in the yard behind the church |
The Liturgy of the Palms began behind the church. Multiple choirs and a band, acolytes galore, parishioners, clergy, sisters, visitors – any who wanted to participate gathered for the blessing of the palms. Led by the cross and the thurifer swinging the thurible with sweet-smelling incense, band playing and choirs singing, we headed down the long, curving driveway and down the hill.
I was toward the back with the clergy, so by the time we reached the highway, traffic had long since been stopped we all processed down the street. Mind you, this is the main north-south highway in the area, not a side street. People were standing on rooftops and hanging out windows to watch.
When we reached the other entrance to the campus, we turned back in and headed back up the hill and around into the church, where, unsurprisingly, the enthusiastic singing inside didn’t quite match the place in the music of the energetic band and singing outside. Some issues never change from church to church or from country to country. I felt right at home. And a joyful noise was made to the Lord.
Then there was the offertory. I don’t even know how to begin to describe it. I’ve gotten accustomed to beautiful offertory processions on patronal festivals, but this was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Not only was it beautiful and colorful, with the offerings slowly danced up the aisle, usually on baskets carried on the heads of the parishioners, but also it was incredibly varied – and it just kept coming.
First of all, the offerings themselves. I have seen the beautiful baskets of vegetables and fruit, and this was no exception – except there were baskets of all sizes, some so large it was hard to imagine their being carried. This is a real example of people giving of their life and labor in a tangible way. An entire stalk of green bananas – or maybe plaintains – arrived on the head of a man who made everyone laugh with his dance (most of which I couldn’t see). These offerings were mostly handed off to the acolytes in the front by the altar and taken to the sacristy. Flower arrangements were placed at the foot of the altar.
My first surprise was a series of items that were completely practical and nothing I had seen in a procession before. These, too, were laid at the foot of the altar as something that could be immediately of use to the church. Items I noticed included packages of copy paper, a mop, and a large jug of Clorox (essential in these days of cholera). I was impressed.
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| live turkey and chicken in offering baskets |
Then there was the livestock. In the baskets along with the vegetables were quite a number of chickens. Live chickens. Afterwards in the sacristy, some of them were still sitting in their baskets on top of the vegetables. Others may have come up separately (I couldn’t see everything), as I saw a few handed off from acolyte to acolyte, wings flapping.
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| escaped chicken exploring the altar area |
One got loose and proceeded to walk around clucking in front of the altar until someone noticed and scooped it up. There was a good-sized turkey as well. But what really astonished me was the goat, who was remarkably calm, all things considered.
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live goat in offering basket
very calm, don't ask me how |
I lost all sense of (American-mannered) propriety and began taking photos, something I would never do at home – but I was so far from being the only one. I did ask first, just in case. Most, including the clergy, were on their feet, craning their necks, laughing, admiring, enjoying the music, the thanksgiving and the praise. Picture-taking here is not often considered inappropriate in such circumstances, and even one of the other priests had a camera phone in use.
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| preparing the elements using wine brought up |
Of course, there were the usual offerings as well, both the special offerings collected elsewhere in honor of the occasion and brought up in decorated boxes, and the plates that were passed.
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| offerings in decorated boxes |
Later that day, I was remarking to a sister what an amazing offering that was, and I said, “… and it must have lasted at least twenty minutes!” She stared at me. “Twenty minutes??? Sister, it was an hour!” Time flies when you’re having fun, I hear. I shouldn’t be surprised. The 9AM service, which started around 9:30, lasted until around 1:30. Even with the procession down the highway, the time had to have gone somewhere. It certainly didn’t seem that long; I would have guessed two hours.
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| the clergy afterwards |
So what happened to all those offerings?
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| offerings being sold behind the church |
After the service, what usually happens is that the produce and animals are sold out back and the proceeds are given to the church. There was so much to sell that I actually saw the sale in progress.
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| Looks like we'll be bringing home some shopping, too. Easter dinner? |
On the way out, we picked up two seminarians who were waiting for a taptap back to Port-au-Prince. Remember the live turkey I mentioned? He had been bought after the service and was already settled in the back of our vehicle, where we have fold-down benches.
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| traveling companion |
The seminarians rode back with him, and there was no pecking.
Thanksgiving abounded.
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As long as I am posting and have found this, I'm going to add some of the pictures I took on the road on the way there and home.
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Welcome to Mirebalais
This is the town where Partners in Health now has a second, much larger hospital, state of the art. What an amazing ministry that is. By the way, there is a link to donate to them off on the right side of my blog. |
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| Mirebalais |
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| Not too many of these houses anymore, but they're still around. |
The wedding at which I preached had the most beautiful set of dancers - eight couples doing a sort of half-dance, half rhythmic march to recorded music. They stopped when they were all in and danced in the aisle. It reminded me of a minuet or a stately Virginia reel. This is a traditional part of the service.
All in all, it was a lovely wedding. I wish Thania and Jhonson (no, that is not a typo) much happiness. Keep this young couple in your prayers as they grow together.
Early Sunday morning, Pere Samuel, Margarette (the other seminarian), several parishioners, and I set off for the Mission St Pierre. We had originally planned to go on motorcycles, so I was relieved to hear that we would do the first leg of the trip in a four wheel drive pick-up. I was even more grateful as we headed not across a shallow river, but right into it and down it, using it 
as a road. I've gotten used to some amazing road conditions and a lack of seatbelts, but this was an entirely new idea, not to mention experience for me.
We encountered quite a number of people on the way down the river - bathing, doing laundry, and collecting drinking water. There is a spring partway down the river which makes it a little less muddy, and Pere Samuel explained to me that people would dig a sort of a hole to let the sediment settle out of the water before putting it into containers to take home to drink.
gift of that horse. Each horse also had a small boy assigned to urge the horse along when it got balky, which was not uncommon; a few times I had to get off so it could get up particularly steep, rocky places in the path. I was grateful for the dozen riding lessons I had taken ten years ago at the boarding school at which I taught; even without reins and with stirrups too long for my short legs, I was told I looked 
comfortable. As my mother says, will miracles never cease! By the end of the trip up the mountain I had collected someone bookbag and a hanging bag with dress shirts along with my backpack (which held habit, shoes, water, prayer book, bug spray, kleenex, etc.). 
When we arrived, an hour before the service, there was already a good crowd gathered, rather unusual in my limited experience, given that service times are approximate. It is important here for parishioners from other churches, Episcopalian and other denominations, to come for a patronal festival to show support, and a number of people had come the night before and pitched tents. We were offered coconuts (juice and fruit) right away, as well as coffee (which I dared not drink, given the water situation) and bread. 
The service itself was beautiful and well attended. "Standing room only" doesn't cover it: some people had to stay outside for lack of space within. The parish choir sang, accompanied by electric guitar (powered by generator), as did a ten voice men's choir, accompanied by accordion. There were two thurifers with their clouds of incense, candle-bearers, and two crucifers. There were a dozen of us in the altar party. Once again, 
the offertory was fabulous, with a group of women wearing red dancing up the aisle with their offerings in red baskets on their heads, followed by two boys dancing with bags and hoes. 
He also talked to the congregation about the fact that the Episcopal Church has women priests, and that the two women with him were seminarians. As there is currently only one ordained woman in the diocese of Haiti, this is new for some, I think. He also reminded them that Episcopal clergy can marry if they are not called to take a vow of chastity in the religious life, and that it is possible to be a sister and a priest at the same time.
the mountain with an even larger crowd, this time on foot. The views were spectacular. 
The pickup held a dozen or so of us on the way home. It was quite hot, so when we got back to the river, I was seriously envious of the horses being bathed. What I wouldn't have given to hop out just for a few moments! 
