Washing the Feet of my New Friends

It’s a rainy Saturday morning. I’m up early. I shower, dress and apply make-up. Unlike most days on the island, it is cool today. The rain cools the air and the clouds shield the sunrays from pounding the island. I go into the closet and dig through my suitcases to find my little travel hair dryer. I haven’t unpacked everything because I will be moving in just a few short weeks to my permanent residence in Micoud.

My hair has been in a perpetual drip-dry state since my arrival because I can’t entertain the thought of blowing hot air onto my hair. Today is different...it’s cool. I’d like to see myself as I did before I left; I take the extra time this morning to feel somewhat normal. There are not many mirrors so looking at my reflection is done primarily through peering at windowpane reflections. This is probably a good thing – I can only imagine what I must really look like! I put on one of the four dresses I brought with me, a dress jacket, and a pair of shoes. I’m ready for church.

I was there last Saturday and it was an inspirational day. I left wanting more – an odd thought for me. As we drive up to the Seventh Day Adventist Church, the door of the pick-up truck opens and Bea says “go ahead into the church and I will be back later”. Humm; not quite what I expected, but I’m alright with it. I walk up the steps to the church and there is a man in a suit waiting to greet the people who enter. I am received with a handshake and a warm welcome to the church.

I take an isle seat in the second to the last row of pews. At the other end of the pew there is an elderly woman. She is short, wearing a gray skirt with a white blouse. She is wearing her church hat and her pocketbook is resting next to her. On her lap sits two books: the Bible and her Seventh Day Adventist (SDA) Hymnal. No one occupies the seating between us.

They are singing from the Hymnal and the woman who is leading the hymn has a piercing voice which bounces off the walls in the church. The hymn is finished and the church silences while a speaker steps up to make announcements. As I sit quietly I hear my name. A woman is introducing me as Micoud’s new Peace Corps Volunteer. I’m asked to stand so everyone can see me. I’m not sure why that’s necessary as I’m the only white person within miles and it’s pretty obvious that I’m the one they are talking about, but I comply. It is another warm welcome.

Another woman announces the next hymn that will be sung and instructs the congregation to turn to Hymn #156. I don’t have a book so I just listen. The elderly woman at the other end comes down to my end of the pew and hands me her hymn book – she is singing and it’s obvious she knows the hymns from memory. She points to the words on the page and returns to her side of the pew. We sing a few more songs and with each song the old woman walks over to me, turns the pages and directs me to the hymn. Each time she walks back to her place at the end of the pew. Then we are instructed to open our Bibles to a certain verse. You guessed it – I have no Bible. Once again the elderly woman at the end of the pew comes to my rescue and hands me her Bible and then returns to her place at the end of the pew. Enough. I pick up the Bible and the Hymnal and move to sit next to her. She smiles and we share the page in her Bible. One of Bea’s sons, Kyle, is sitting in front of us and looks back at me and then looks at the woman. The woman whispers to Kyle, “I have a new friend” and she smiles warmly.

She is indeed my new friend. She explains everything that is happening. Four times a year they take communion. It is like none that I experienced. The Deacons lead the men from the church while the women stay seated. We are once again led in song while the Deaconesses, each dressed in a dark skirt and white blouse with white ”maiden” type hats disappear to the back of the church. While we are singing the deaconesses return with large white metal wash tubs filled with water. White towels are draped over their arms.

The older woman next to me explains that we will be washing one another’s feet as a symbolic gesture. The men are in another room performing the same ritual. More singing and tubs of water come out from the back of the church until everyone is paired and washed the feet of others. When this is complete the Deaconesses return the tubs and dirty towels to the back room and leave through the large wooden front doors. They are going to fetch. Within a minute, the Deacons lead the men back into the church and everyone is united. The bread is broken into pieces and the Deacons distribute it to everyone who wants it. The pastor leads the church in prayer and then says, “Let’s eat together”. And then the process happens again, this time with the wine, “Let’s drink together”.

After church there was a line-up of people waiting to meet me. Yet, another warm welcome. I have just acquired another fifty best friends.