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.”