Distinctly Peruvian

Two trips to Peru in two years; I am humbled to have had the opportunity to experience this wonderful country twice in a short amount of time. My first journey was a trip for teachers, and the second journey was with my church.  Both took me out of my comfort zone. I learned, saw, felt, and thought. I was changed beyond my wildest expectations, and it left me thirsting for more. And while I yearn to go back, I am left me with certain memories that are crystal clear in my mind…distinctly Peruvian moments. Allow me to turn back the clock and share a few with you.

We're waiting for the birds to arrive at the clay lick.

I’m in the Amazon rain forest sitting by a clay lick at 5:30 a.m. with twenty American teachers and our Peruvian guides. The goal for the morning is to observe macaws at the clay lick and to take notes about their behavior. The birds don’t care that we’re waiting for them. They’ll arrive when they feel like it. And so, we wait. I begin to write a few notes in my journal when a terrible cacophony starts up in the trees. It’s the howler monkeys. They all howl at the same time, and the noise sounds like a freight train. The din continues for a few moments, and then it suddenly stops. As I puzzle at the abruptness of it all, rain starts to fall. I pull out my raincoat and marvel at the timing of the monkeys. Did they know the rain was coming and call out as a warning? I’ll never know for sure, but the timing of it seems too perfect to be anything else.

It’s a dark night in the Amazon rain forest. We have spent an hour in a boat searching for caimans, relatives of alligators, along the river bank. We found a few, easily seen by their eyes reflecting our light, but it certainly wasn’t the bounty we’d hoped for. We return to the shore and stop for a few moments to listen to the sounds of the forest, the tree frogs. Their croaking sounds more like the chirping of insects. I lay down in the sand of the riverbank to watch the stars above and listen to the frog chorus. With no light pollution to mar the sky, the stars are brighter than I’ve ever seen them. I search for familiar constellations, but the southern hemisphere’s sky looks different from the northern hemisphere’s. In that peaceful moment, I feel like staying on the riverbank forever, listening to the frogs and watching the stars twinkle in the sky.

Fast forward two years, and I’m in Peru again. This time I’m standing on a mountain top. It’s cold, and I’m wearing multiple layers of clothes, plus my hat, scarf, and gloves. The sun has set and the night sky is clear. The stars above me make the sky look like it’s filled with diamonds. I can see the Milky Way cutting a path through space. My breath is taken away at the spectacle of it all. The constellation of the Southern Cross, only seen in the southern hemisphere, is visible before me. Our group spontaneously starts to sing because the sight before us is so majestic. This beautiful scene is repeated night after night. I wish I could photograph what I see, but no camera could do it justice.

This family came out to meet us as we hiked.

Now I’m walking along a mountain path heading towards a village to distribute the translated New Testament to the native Quechua people of Peru. As usual, I’m at the back of the group because I’m a slow hiker, but this time it pays off. A family comes out of their house to talk to the people at the end of our group. Through a translator we are able to have a conversation with them and give them a Bible and a children’s picture Bible. They are so touched by our gift that they run into their house and return with a large basket of potatoes. They insist that we take the potatoes as a thank you gift for the Bibles. They immediately start to look through the Bibles we’ve given them and they even walk down the road to meet the rest of our group. Later that evening, they walk two hours to the village to hear our presentation and see the Jesus video. Their excitement humbles me as I realize what a big deal it is for these families to receive Bibles written in their own native language.

It’s moments like these, plus many more, that have caused me to fall in love with Peru. The people, the scenery, the ruggedness of the place; it has seeped into my veins and become a part of me. I can’t wait to go back, to experience more of what makes this South American country “distinctly Peruvian.”

Adventures in Sleeping in the Peruvian Andes

“Sleeping in a hotel and a tent in the mountains shouldn’t be difficult, right? It doesn’t matter that the hotel and tent will be in the Peruvian Andes. This should be easy.” I deluded myself into thinking that before I left the United States for Peru. Boy, was I wrong! The simple act of sleeping challenged me during the 10 days I spent in Peru.

My first adventure in sleeping took place in a hotel in Huarez, Peru, nestled in the Peruvian Andes. Huarez is not a small town, and thus, I figured the hotels would be decent. Our hotel was not bad, but it had a few quirky qualities that kept reminding me that I was not at home anymore.

Want hot water 24/7? Then this may not be the hotel for you.

One of the most painful quirks was the lack of hot water. Strangely, our shower never had more than a pencil-width stream of water coming out of it, but it was also cold half of the time. There wasn’t a predictable pattern as to when the water would be cold and when it would be hot. In a few instances, there wasn't any water at all, but the hotel staff seemed to be able to fix that. We decided that if there was water and it was hot, then it was time to take a shower!

The particular room my husband and I bunked in allowed us to hear the conversation of our neighbors with startling accuracy. A morning conversation about bodily functions and intestinal distress left us laughing out loud. Poor Stephanie…we didn’t know who she was, but we learned a lot about her health issues that morning.

Street noise was also our constant companion. Loud singing, bands playing in nightclubs, and car horns honking provided a background for much of the night. We learned that Peruvians honk their car horns much more frequently than Americans do, but the honks aren’t necessarily angry honks, just attention getting honks.

Our first campsite, nestled in the mountains. Beautiful, but cold at night!

After leaving Huarez, we set out for the mountains. The main purpose of our trip was to hike in the mountains and distribute translated Bibles to the native people. While on the trekking part of the trip, we slept in tents. I am not a proficient tent sleeper, but I’m always up for an adventure, and I figured that tent sleeping in the Andes ranked in the adventure category.

We slept at elevations above 10,000 feet, and it dipped into the 30’s at night. During the day the sun was always out, and we were toasty warm. After the sun set, the temperature dropped rapidly. In the evening I wore two to three layers of clothes, plus a coat with a hat, scarf, and gloves. I then understood why the Peruvians chose to wear woolen clothes in those conditions. 

When it was bedtime, I still kept on two to three layers of clothes, plus my hat which was made from Alpaca wool. I had my sleeping bag, plus a fleece liner. In the four nights that we camped, I froze for three of them. My nose, the most exposed skin that I had, was the coldest part. Otherwise, I cocooned myself into the sleeping bag to stay warm.

Donkeys may look cute, but they are NOISY!

Being cold wasn’t my only challenge in the tents. It was noisy. I thought that sleeping in the mountains would be a quiet affair, but it was just as noisy as sleeping in Huarez because we were surrounded by the native peoples’ farms. Dogs seemed to be everywhere, and they barked all night long. One night a dog barked directly outside the entrance to my tent, which woke me from my sleep and set my heart thumping against my chest. Donkeys carried our gear in the mountains, so the braying of donkeys was another noise. Their braying is LOUD and long. The roosters started crowing around 4:00 a.m. and continued for hours. The entire group had something to say about the roosters, but our cooks solved the problem for us. They bought a rooster from one of the farmers, and we ate it for dinner that night. It was some of the best poultry we had!

Another night we were camped on a slope, and my sleeping back was made of slick fabric. It constantly slid down to the foot of the tent because my mattress pad was also smooth. I kept trying to scoot back up, but I was cocooned in my bag, so I wasn’t mobile. After a constant battle of sliding down and scooting up, I finally gave up the fight. By morning, I was sleeping in a pile at the foot of the tent.

The sun is starting to go down, and I'm getting cold. But,
it's all worth it for views like this!

After four nights of camping in the freezing cold, I was actually glad to go back to the hotel in Huarez with its lack of hot water, noise from the street, and talkative neighbors. Even though my sleeping wasn’t great for all those nights, all I could do was laugh about it. There’s nothing like having adventures in sleeping!