There and Back Again

It's taken me a few days to sit down and write this because I'm still struggling to process everything. Tonight at church most of us "Peru Trippers" had a little testimony time where we got to share about our experiences in Peru. I had such a hard time sorting through my thoughts. I kind of knew what I wanted to say, but I lost it as soon as I stood up. Thankfully, I didn't dissolve into tears. But there was so much more I couldn't find the words for. I still want to share all of that.

I'm planning on doing a series of detailed posts after this one, rather than cramming everything into one long, unorganized, rambling post. For right now, however, I'll do an overview of sorts. 

Practically everything I knew about Peru before this trip was what I saw in movies, read in books (though few fictional characters ever go to Peru), and heard from my family and others who have gone there on missions trips. I looked up Peru on Wikipedia after my trip, and I can tell you that short page doesn't even begin to describe Peru for real.

I didn't realize how little those stories would prepare me for the reality. I think we all tend to develop ideas and pictures of places we've never been based on what we're told or pictures we see. I know I do. Turns out all those images I'd subconsciously developed over the years were not even close to correct. I can't say I really had culture shock. I did wish I had dedicated myself to my Spanish studies.

We had a number of bus rides between the children's home and the city of Lima and its suburbs. During many of these, Bro. Mike, the missionary whose family founded the children's home, rode with us. He provided little educational lectures rather like a tour guide, acquainting us with Peru. I learned that Peru contains every kind of climate existing in the world, from snowy mountains (3 hours away from us they were having snow storms) to rainforests to deserts. The area with which I am now familiar is the "costal" area: rocky, arid, and among the foothills and edges of the mountains.

We arrived at the end of their winter and rainy season. "Rain" there is actually a fine mist. We rarely saw the sun and most days were cuddled up in sweatshirts. Once or twice I wished for gloves. One the warmer days, we Americanos locos went barefoot, and the nannies asked if our feet weren't freezing.

While we visited the ritzy areas of Lima on occasion, that area and class weren't our focus. We spent most of our time among the normal people, the "average" population (and I'm not sure how else to word that, but I don't mean it offensively). The houses are small and full of large families, the conditions are poor and often filthy, there are dogs every where (I mean everywhere).... But that's not what I'll remember. Almost instantly, I was impressed by the spirit of the people we met. They were happy, open, humble, friendly, kind, and even content. Yes, many talked of how they wanted their children to have better lives; but they weren't consumed with that. They work, they struggle to get by, they laugh, they love. 

Peruvians (or los Peruanos, as we learned) are proud. Not high and mighty proud. It's more like dignity. For example, they might be poor, but they dress as well as they are able.

While we were there, we got to witness their Independence Day celebrations (which we didn't even realize we'd be there for). The actual date was the 28th, which was a Sunday, but most of their celebrations took place on Saturday. Just down the street from the children's home was a parade which lasted a good four hours. It was mostly school groups, all dressed in costumes reflecting different parts and times of Peru's history and culture. You could see the patriotic pride there. 

From a tourist's standpoint, Peru might appear very religious. There are certainly plenty of churches, and I'd guess the majority of the population, at least where we were, had some sort of religious ceremony they went through. But it's not real. It is simply religion: a practice, a pattern, empty words and actions in an effort to earn one's way to Heaven. There's no relationship with God, no fellowship, not faith. That was one of the most heart-breaking things of all.

But despite that, the people were still so willing to accept our gifts of tracts and Bibles. They're hungry, and they don't deny that. Again, they're so open and so humble, willing to receive, quick to love, ready to help. The people we went to serve and to be a blessing to turned out to be an even greater blessing to us.
This is turning out to be just as confused and rambling as I feared. I'll try to work on that. Before I close, I suppose I should mention something about the plane ride.
I was strangely composed when we boarded our first plane. Referring again to things I learned from movies, I expected it to be bigger than it was. Turns out all those planes in the movies were the long-distance type, while ours, for two hours of travel, was considerably smaller. The first take off wasn't as terrifying as I anticipated. There was the initial felling of weightlessness and I clutched the seat in front of me (where, thankfully, Dad was seated) and probably went pale. Mom was laughing at me, so I guess I was a sight. But after we leveled out, I actually was able to enjoy myself. It almost felt like riding in a van or bus, until we hit turbulence (which we did while passing the Andes on our longer second flight). Turbulence still bugs me, but I'm cool with the rest.
And our 7 hour flight from Lima had personal TVs with a wide selection of movies. Though I was exhausted from a long day, I did watch one. Heather turned on Sound of Music, of all things.
So the thing I was most worried about turned out to be no big deal. Yay for me!
I'm going to go now before I make any more of a mess with this post. I'll be back soon.