Right. Let’s just say that it was frighteningly close that I could have woken up this morning with a conversion-hangover.
Last night me and Diego had been asked to play a very popular hymn at the pastor’s church. Not only had I never heard it before, but I only got 20 minutes to learn it from a youtube video before it was time to perform, as we had been spending the day at the beach at the other side of the island, together with Baby (yes, really), a friend of Diego and a proud owner of a motorcycle with in-built soundsystem, that somehow managed to carry all of us. 70 km/hr feels very fast on such a thing, especially without a helmet. Baby makes no secret the fact that he is “passionada” about the sueca, and the first thing he asked me was if I’m singel. (What’s this obsession about my marital status!?) As a 39-year old divorcee with 3 kids, he must be quite a catch, não é?
Ah, I’m digressing! So, back to the church. It was an interesting experience if somewhat loud. The pastor seemed to be rather inspired, preaching with an ear-piercing fundamentalist rethoric that put the whole congregation on fire, making them exclaim Halleluja! and waving hands in the air. Me and Diego being the only non-evangelists there got a tad nervous when he started spouting about other faiths and their founders, and how Jesus was the only one that resurrected, hence he was the only authentic teacher and so on. There was a point when he asked if there was anyone who would like to come forth and accept Jesus while glancing at us two. Somehow we managed to stay true to our respective faiths without offending our host.
There was a wind orchestra playing, two choirs and smaller ensembles accompanying the hymns. The music was beautiful, but for some inexplicable reason everything had to be perfomed with amplified sound and pre-recorded backing tracks played at a deafening volume, so that the poor chorists were forced to scream in order to be heard even a little bit. Isn’t it a little bit difficult to hear God’s voice in such a noise?