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E-mail me!On Sunday I went to the regional UPC conference in Esteli. Pastor Francisco from the church in Granada was one of the day’s three preachers. The meeting began at 10am and lasted until 6pm, with a one-hour break for lunch. The meeting was held in a dilapidated basketball stadium in the center of town. About a thousand Pentecostals showed up from all over Nicaragua. People came in old buses and vans. They packed into old cars and pickup trucks. Many people brought food and water to sell in the lobby. I can’t put into words the similarities and the differences between the UPC culture here and at home. The services were loud, excruciatingly loud. The PA system was constantly being tinkered with and I was never able to adjust to the varying levels of noise.
They chanted Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! Thrusting their fists into the air. With the language barrier, I was often confused and felt bewildered by the repetition and force with which things were chanted. I assume the same would be said of a UPC meeting in the US if one did not have the benefit of good language skills.
Ten of us rode to the meeting in a small Mazda pickup truck. Three hours of driving into the mountains the air growing cooler the higher we climbed. Three people sat cramped into the front seat; seven of us packed into the open bed in the back. It felt unsafe and the truck struggled along, requiring frequent stops for oil and water.
I learned a lot about dedication. Despite the strange sounds and food, I felt at home. I was able to pick out cultural similarities as well as profound differences that I may expand on in the future.
