PB walk activity through Leah's eyes

In class the other day, we were assigned to just walk around campus inhabiting the point of view of one of the main charachters of The Poisonwood Bible. My assigned characther was Leah. In a nutshell, she is a rather passive charachter who strives to please her pious father, but at the same time is nothing like him, having eyes "better suited" for seeing.

Immediately upon arrival, I was compelled to ask Rachel just what day it was. She just rolled her eyes and said, "You don't see the market do you?", and just ambled off flicking her hair in my face. I wanted to remind her that we weren't in the Congo anymore, but I figured that trying to find a cure for stupidity was useless as well, so I dropped it. The reason I wanted to know was queer because everybody acted like the Holy Sabbath had fallen strangely on this sun-bathed Thursday!

Standing on the exquisitely colored tiles arranged in a circle, with carved words stranger than those of Kikongo as the evenescent beams of light radiate from the sky and off the thick overglaze made me feel uneasy observing these people, given that simply living in Kilanga used to be a life or death struggle. My shoulders felt depressed and weighed down liked standing in the nave of a great gothic cathedral, burying me completely in its immenseness, filling my heart with both the holiness of a pure choir and the pity of seeing such slothful people bask in God's light when they seem to do nothing to deserve it.

Maybe they've bended the bible's meaning. "God helps those who help themselves". I suppose they're just helping themselves to other people's work instead of making their own work. Seeing this got me a little riled up, but I calmed down after I remembered how I felt in the Congo and how strange everything they did seemed to me at the time. But I also remembered how different Pascal and I were, now that I think about it. But it's just that they are so materialistic and attached to their worldly possessions that simmers my blood a little. I mean I'm used to Rachel flouting about vainly her accessories and sneaking make-up -- but these people!

I would like to imagine myself giving a talk to a few groups of these people and show them the error of their ways, but I lack the forcefull will of God that my father carries with him in his heart, or his tolerance and compassion for people unaware or ignorant to their potential salvation. Even Ruth May is starting to become more charismatic than I, always playing "mother may I?" with all the village kids.

If I ever have my own kids, I should want to teach them of the lessons I have learned here as well as those I have learned in the Congo. To ignore obvious cultural difference and racial diversity of this place, and to not understand their reasons, or take into consideration their upbringing into their habits of mind would simple be shameful.