“Why aren’t you wearing your ga-gong?” the chief asked me as we sat visiting on the floor of his stilted house.

“Uh, well, I’m shy,” I said.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” he replied.

This wasn’t the first time he had inquired about the nice ga-gong cloth that he knew lay wrapped in its packet in my closet drawer. Ga-gongs are long wrap-around skirts that Cham men wear to the Mosque, on special occasions or when relaxing in the village after the late afternoon bath. Molly had decided long ago to wear the typical head covering around the village, but I had put off garbing myself with the ga-gong. Wearing a skirt was not the highest priority on my agenda.
After returning home and telling Molly about my conversation with the chief, I admitted to her that I knew the day was coming when I would have to take the plunge.

The day came sooner than I expected. About a week after my visit with the chief, some neighbors invited us to their house for a feast. “It’s now or never,” I thought as, with a queasy stomach, I opened my drawer, pulled out the ga-gong and wrapped it around my waist. “I think this is the hardest thing I have done here yet,” I confided to Molly as I took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out into the public eye. Immediately, my children started laughing and pointing. “Look! Daddy’s wearing a skirt!” I hurriedly tried to hush them, but their gleeful cries had already drawn the attention of the other kids standing around. I swallowed my pride and walked resolutely across the road to the feast. I must admit that the satisfaction of hearing our Cham friends’ enthusiastic laughs and seeing their nods of approval more than made up for the awkwardness I felt.

Paul said, “I have become all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.” I thank God that we can become as Cham to the Cham so that, by God’s grace, we can save some.

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