Evangelical Christian gets scaaaared in Port-au-Prince, and some humor

[Mambo Racine Sans Bout]

Here is a typical Christian description of our religion:

(found at http://jacksonsnyder.com/arc/2001/Voodoo as Evangelism.htm)

"Port-au-Prince is a dark, dirty place, both in the natural and the
spiritual. In the middle of the night, the spiritual darkness needs no
longer to hide...Wherever I went, there trailed behind me an entourage
of child prostitutes, the victims of intense urban poverty. I also
encountered hundreds of the drunken homeless, some publicly urinating
or worse along the way...

I discovered Voodoo -- everywhere. At one juncture of the dirty
pavement I heard wild music -- chanting -- drums and guitars --
cacophony -- emanating from a crack of an alleyway off the drag I
followed. Down the filthy cobblestones I stumbled, nearly overwhelmed
by the noise and the smell. Before my eyes appeared drums and guitars
and whistles and fiddles and rattles and a crowd of pitiful people
engaged in the wildest of parties. There I felt the press and breathed
in musky sweat and urine, now mesmerized by the savage dancing of the
nearly naked possessed -- with their dizzy shaking and gyrating --
their provocative fondling by lecherous eyes and hands.

There were chickens about. One was bloody dead upon a stump of an
altar, the rest were in the stir and whir. This was an evil place. I
recognized at once that I had stumbled upon a Voodoo sacrificial
ritual in full swing. As a Christian, the cold feeling of the demonic
squashed my flesh even harder than the crowd. Some kind of sick began
to so grip me that I was unprepared either to rebuke or retreat.

Unprepared, that is, until the music and dancing instantly and
abruptly came to a dead halt. The man in charge (the "hougan," or
witch doctor) looked straight at me across the alley and smiled a
haunting, toothless grin like a black skull. His eyes were like
flashlights in the dark. He pointed at me (the only white person for
miles), shouted, then everyone else turned me-ward. And everyone
smiled -- not the compassionate kind of smile -- but the smile of a
viper at his mesmerized prey. Everybody, it seemed, started moving
in.

My morbid fear was that I would be the next sacrifice, sharing the
bloody stump with the hapless chicken. I turned and ran as fast as my
twenty-year-old legs would take me right into the uncertain blackness
of "The Port." As I retreated, I realized that I had witnessed a
classic (and prosaic) form of devil worship. And that there was no
place to run but to Yahshua.

-------------------------

I am willing to bet that the Houngan, that evil, skull-like, toothless
scary Houngan, probably pointed at this ninny and shouted, "Get him a
chair! Has he had anything to eat? Offer him some rum! Where are your
manners, lazy hounsis!"

LOL

Peace and love,

Mambo Racine