Sunday my housemates and I all made the early morning English service at St Etienne's. We often cave and end up going to the 10.30 at Christian Life Assembly. Yes, the name does give it a way. Dubious, dubious church. Apart from taking me way outside of my Church of England/Catholic comfort zone (band, waving of arms, thousand strong congregation, you get the picture) the preacher made jokes about incest throughout his sermon. His parents are first cousins, and apparently his clan has been intermarrying for centuries. It did at least jolt me from my mid-sermon nap. St Etienne's is still a little too spangly for my liking. Graham Kendrick hymns are the order of the day - any friend from Marylebone will know where I'm coming from 'Shine Jesus, Shine' *Clap Clap*. The Catholic church, strangely, feels much more familiar, a part from not being allowed to take Communion and having not memorised the order of service in advance. I feel like more of an observer than a member of the congregation.
I awoke this morning tired. Film followed by skype followed by late-night emailings. Yawn. Luckily, I was able to take a two hour lunch break, including one hour for nap-time. My new(ish) house is just around the corner and down a dirt road from work. I could probably stay at home and never return, but I have to fight the lethargy. Oh the pace of things! I do at least have a new project, doing some research for Aegis Trust and the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre. It's good to be donning my history hat again, though I miss the Bodleian. Even the History Library would do. Books, good books in particular, are a scarcity here.
It's been raining for over an hour now. And when I say raining, I mean raining. Nothing quite like an African shower. I wish my shower had this kind of water pressure, just a wee dribble.
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