German Church Bells and Kiswahili Proverbs
Bringing parts of Home with me to my many homes...
The church bells in our German village of Enkenbach- they felt like the memory of my mom or dad calling my brother and I home, after a long day of playing outside of our Brooklyn apartment’s courtyard when we were young.
There was such an auditory and physical centering in my body every time I heard those bells. And even now as I remember the sounds I can encompass the same groundedness. I take a deep breath without the thought of needing it—but just a knowing that I can get that same calm those church bells gave me, right here right now…
The church bells were like a right of passage for the day, the time of year, a celebration, or even to recognize a time in history.
They of course rang every Sunday morning at 9am. But they also rang every weekday at 6pm. They rang at 12midnight on the eve of the New Year. They rang as newly seasoned first graders started off their elementary school years. And again when those same students graduated 4 years later.
And then during the height of COVID, they rang at 7pm every evening as a nod to all the caretakers treating sick patients. What an experience to have a sound that held me and the whole village. It was dependable when things felt undependable. It was a sound that brought in openness and hope when things were so fearfully uncertain.
Of all the things cozy from my time living in Germany, those church bells are at the top of my list. I miss them like I miss my dear friends and the bakeries filled with breaded and baked delights.
They were that gentle call back Home, no matter what was going on.
The power of a sound to reflect the rhythms of the day and life is truly awe-inspiring. What a gift to have that reverberating in my heart through the sharing of this memory…
As I continue now to get settled in a place that will be the longest we’ve lived anywhere as a family, it feels good to bring along parts of Home from other places we’ve lived. The church bells, like my beloved friends live in my heart, truly.
It’s moments like this in soulful reflection that I also remember a Kiswahili saying from when I lived in Zanzibar, Tanzania. It goes like this: ‘ikiwa inaingia moyoni mwako inabakia”. It means: “if it goes in your heart, it remains…”
And I think as we go through life transitions whether in our relationships, in our place or space of working, or in our location of aboding, there’s aspects we let go of because we have no choice. But then there’s aspects we do have the choice to carry forward with us.
Knowing the difference can be helpful. I can always feel when I’m supposed to let go of something because it feels like a lot of work to keep holding it close. Almost like struggling to put on a shrunken shirt that just doesn’t fit anymore- even if it was my favorite color green. Instead, when there is something I’m supposed to keep with me, it feels more like a scarf I can easily swing around my neck!
In fact, that Kiswahili saying I mentioned before? Well funny enough it’s also printed on a traditional piece of material called a kanga- which has many uses! Each kanga has a different colored pattern and a different proverb. Women wear kangas over their head or wrap up their hair with it. They wear it around their waist like a skirt, or over their shoulders like a shawl. And once they are old and worn out, they’re used for cloth diapers or rags. Talk about versatile!
When I left Zanzibar, my friends gifted a kanga with the aforementioned proverb to me. And indeed, just like that scarf metaphor, it has felt easy to keep with me both in spirit and materialistically...no matter what transition I’ve been in…
This is a beautiful piece. I could hear the bells and understand the sense of place. Of home. And I love the kanga! Such a great gift and yes the colors are amazing.