A Special Saturday

Saturday November 12th is the anniversary of the birth of Baha'u'llah, the prophet founder of the Baha'i Faith. It is a day of great joy for Baha'is, and it was our opportunity to hold a big event to which we could invite all the people from our various classes. It was organized a bit last minute since it kinda sprang up on us, but as usual, everything came together in the end. While I went around picking people up, Denissa and Victoria decorated the "carbet" where we were going to have the celebration with beautiful streamers. There was lots of singing followed by some prayers, and then one of the youth told the story of the life of Baha'u'llah.


Despite having heard the story many times since childhood, throughout children's classes and holy days, I never tire of hearing it. It is a very moving and inspiring story and one can never hear enough of Baha'u'llah's kindness towards all who crossed His path; even those who wished to do Him harm. To hear of the extreme suffering He underwent makes ones own problems and difficulties seem insignificant.
Following this story, we sang some more songs and then moved to a different area to watch the documentary "The Journey Home" made by incredibly talented mother (a totally unbiased evaluation of her writing,filmaking, and editing skills). It tells the story of the choir from Congo that traveled to Haifa, Israel for the opening of the terraces in May 2001. We felt it would be appropriate because of the joy in communicates and the unity in diversity it shows. Also, the people here feel a very strong connection to Africa, since they are direct descendants of Africans brought over here as slaves (although the history goes that as soon as the slaves arrived they escaped into the jungle and the people here are very proud of the fact that they were never slaves). However the connection is very much a spiritual one and they have a great thirst for images and anything concrete from Africa.


They watched with great attention, pointed at this and that, clapped along with the singing. It brought tears to my eyes; I thought I was back home.
The evening ended with prayers, and I drove a car full of 8 children back to their camp, who, despite yawning every two minutes, interrogated me about what animals I lived in Congo and what food I ate and what color my mother was (they had seen my white father in the movie).
It is a slow process to "re-invigorate" the community here but I think we have made a good start. Now we have seen a bit of what works here for celebrations and we will hopefully be able to plan something nice and big for the next one!