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Five centuries of power shifts between Muslim and Christian forces, and half a century of 'international zone' regime have left Tangier with more than one oddity: central plazas with names like "Grand Soco" or "Place de France", iron clad balconies in the Andalusian style, Spanish cathedrals and... and Anglican Church. The Anglican Church, unusually weaving British country-style garden and minaret-like steeple wouldn't be half as odd, were it not for it's very unconventional sexton: "Mustafa".
Mustafa
will gladly show you around the Parish grounds and into the Church (rather
Chapel in size), where he hurriedly points to all the things he participates
in. Before you walk in, he emphatically points to a piece of paper on
the door listing Chaplain, In the Church, Mustafa has you sit and pray. He can't imagine why else you could be there. You're English aren't you, and this is where the Englishman worships his God. For those who seem a bit confused at his insistence that they sit in the pews, he walks them in, kneels and puts his hands together, whispering a helpful "pray" and pointing to the altar, where one should look while communing with God. Knowing you might feel shy or uncomfortable praying before him, he uses this 'quiet time' to slip behind the altar and arrange a few flowers. "Flowers... me arrange all flowers every Saturday. This week-ind, Easter Sunday, many peoples we have, many flowers. Me arranged well. Also palm Sunday, me finds the palms and everiione quite happy. On Sundays, me rings the bell." He hurries into the Chaplain's quarters, to the right of the Altar, and points majestically to a long rope hanging from the ceiling. " Like this" , he tugs at the rope sending a ringing yell through the streets of Tangier, then receding in laughter, a glimpse of mischief in the eye. Earlier, as we walked in , I noticed the guest book- at least 7 or 8 tourists had come in that morning. I wondered if they each got to sample the ringing of the bell- and I imagined the stories the Tangier people tell about the Anglican practice of ringing bells! Still in the Chaplain's quarters, Mustafa points nostalgically to the late Chaplain's picture. "Siven years, he stayed". " Before, they all stayed foor, six, siven years. Now, it's three, six months". "Thank you veery much, they says, Thank you Mustafa for all your help. Hope to see you again. And they leaves". "This one, he a good man, a veery good man. He goes to hospital and helps the people here. Veery good man, from America". "That's me". He points to a minuscule head, behind the prominent figure of a cardinal and the late Chaplain. The minuscule figure wears a white Djellaba, and what seems to be a red hat,a Fes. "Me", he repeats." I wears white Djellaba for Sundays, for ringing bell and service." Back into the Church, he points to the ceiling- an intricate Moorish like painted ceiling: "lovely ceiling" he whispers, with all the quaintness of a small town British dame. We smile, imagining the looks of the Chaplain's wife who taught him that expression. Solemnly, he stops before the Altar, pointing to the Arabic scripture surrounding it. "One, two, three, four , five, six , seven". Seven verses. He starts reading, and we recognize the Lord's Prayer : "Our Father who are in Heaven...", but in Arabic. "Christians, Muslims, Jews, all have the same God, one God, all the same". And suddenly, this Muslim sexton, ringing bells in white Djellabas, and assisting cloaked cardinals seems a rather natural occurence...."Thank you veery much"!
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Mustafa,
"thank you veery much", has been the Church's sexton for thirty
eight years, "eight and thirty years, thank you veery much, and Church
eees nine and hundred years, thank you veery much". Sexton, for those
of you who haven't grown up in the strictest Anglican fashion, is the
happy lad who rings the bell, tends the grounds, looks over the Church.
A Quasimodo of sorts.