Preparing for Peru

My third time to Peru...love that
place!

When I first went to Peru in 2010, I assumed it would be my one and only trip to this beautiful South American country. Now here I am in 2014 after completing my third trip to this gem of the southern hemisphere. What a privilege it was for my husband, Dan, and I to serve as leaders of a 16-person mission team from our church.

Leaders...we learned a lot!

Dan and I participated in a 2012 trip to Peru to do this same type of work...distribute translated Bibles to the Quechua-speaking people of the Andes. A 40-year translation project resulted in the New Testament finally being available in the Quechua language, but many of the Quechua-speaking people living in the mountains had yet to receive a copy. Working with a team of Peruvian missionaries, we trekked into the mountains to deliver those Bibles. What a thrill it was to hand the Quechua people a copy of God’s word for the first time in their own heart language.

Two years later we volunteered to lead this same endeavor. And when I say, “lead,” I mean plan, organize, and direct our American team. We quickly learned that taking ourselves to South America is QUITE different from leading other people there. A strong belief in our task strengthened our resolve, as well as the knowledge that serving in the name of the Lord means walking within His protection.

Dan and I also served as the managers of the team once our feet were on the ground in Peru. The job was much easier once we met up with the Peruvian missionaries. We followed their directions for the distribution of the materials and for interacting with the people. Interacting with local people was complicated by the fact that none of us spoke Quechua, a language that’s very different from English, Spanish, or any other language the typical American has exposure to.

What a privilege to hand a Bible to someone translated into their
own "heart language!"

But, the foreign-ness of Quechua helped drive home an important fact. If Quechua felt like an alien language to us, then how must Spanish (the other official language of Peru) or English feel to them? It doesn’t make any sense at all, just as we can’t begin to understand a word of Quechua. For example, the simple phrase, “Hello. How are you?” is written like this in Quechua: Llamellacu quecanqui. If I hadn’t just given you the translation, this phrase would’ve made no sense. And so, as our team prepared to go to Peru, to the Quechua people, we felt strengthened by the belief that God’s Word is for everyone, and everyone needs access to it in their heart language.

Airport adventures...don't fall asleep! lol

On an early July morning, packed and ready to go, boots ready to walk, sixteen of us trundled off to the airport for an early morning flight to South America. Dan and I were the intrepid leaders, ready to face what lay ahead on this grand adventure, sustained by the grace of God.

Back to Peru

In the shadow of Huascaran, Peru's tallest mountain

Two trips to Peru in two years; experiencing this wonderful country twice in a short amount of time leaves me humbled. And now as I stand in the early weeks of 2014, I find myself planning another trip to this South American wonderland.  I don’t speak Spanish, I’m not fond of eating guinea pig (the Peruvian national dish), hiking in the Andes is strenuous, the rain forest is wretchedly humid...so why would I jump at the chance to go back to such a place? The bigger question is, why wouldn’t I?

Observing parrots at the clay lick near the Tambopata
Research Center.

My first journey to Peru was a trip for teachers to the Amazon rain forest. I spent a week sleeping under  mosquito nets, dodging bats (not my favorite animal), and sweating profusely without end.  However, the ability to witness this marvel of nature was worth 

all the difficult times. Never could I have believed that such a place existed. The monkeys howled in the trees, the beautiful birds soared through the sky, the frogs and insects chirped at all hours of the night; the Amazon presented itself as an alien planet, not an earthbound locale.

My second journey took me in an entirely different direction. I hiked in the Andes Mountains with 13 members of my church. Our goal was to deliver translated Bibles to the native Quechua people. These folks had never owned a Bible in their own language until our band of “Gringos” appeared in their villages to give them one. The trekking was rough, but the thrill of handing God’s word to people for the first time in their lives made every step worth it.

My third trip south of the Equator will again require a trek into the Andes to deliver Bibles to native Quechua people. As a co-leader alongside my husband, we’ve assembled a 16-person team who will walk into little-seen corners of the mountains, Bibles in hand. As heads of the team, it’s our job to get everyone safely there and back and to accomplish our mission in the process. It’s amazing experience to lead a group of friends and to have the responsibility of bringing God’s word to those who’ve ever had it. I expect that we will bless people through our actions, and the experiences of our last trip make me hopeful for our success.

For example, on the 2012 trip we visited four different villages. After the third village, we embarked upon the trail towards our last and final village. When I say, “trail,” imagine a small winding path that may be trod upon by people, donkeys, horses, or sheep at varying points throughout the day. At times we didn’t even walk on trails but just cut across country, as needed.

How privileged we were to see this man
come to Christ!

Our group was walking along one of these paths when a farmer came running to us. He’d heard about our nightly presentation where we passed out the Bibles. He’d been unable to attend the previous night, but he still wanted to talk to us. Through a translator we learned that he’d been struggling with alcoholism, and he knew he needed help. He wanted to accept Christ into his life. So, we all prayed with him right on that mountainside and watched as the joy of Christ became evident in his life.

He was thrilled that he hadn’t missed his chance, and we were thrilled to see the hand of God at work in the mountains of Peru. As we trekked on, it was unclear who was more excited, the Peruvian man we’d just prayed with or our band of travelers who’d just witnessed a miracle.

When I think ahead to the upcoming trip, I can’t help but pray for more experiences like that one. It makes all the work, the planning, the trekking, and the journey into the unknown worth it...to go back to a place I love. To go back to Peru.

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.”

Distributing Bibles by the Light of a Generator

Thank goodness for these donkeys! They carried our gear in the mountains.

In July, I had the privilege of traveling to Peru as part of a 14-member team from my church. Our mission was to journey into the Andes Mountains to deliver the recently translated New Testament to the Quechua people, the native people of Peru. This mission required hiking between villages to places not easily traversed by vehicles.

We spent the majority of each day hiking, usually about five to ten miles a day. Our group attracted a lot of attention as we traipsed along the mountain pathways. The people living in the mountains looked on with curiosity at this group of “Gringos.” A team of 20 donkeys carried our gear: tents, equipment, and personal effects packed into duffel bags. So, in addition to the Gringos, we had donkeys and the Peruvians who traveled with us as our guides, cooks, and “donkey drivers.” We were quite a crew!

Our teens played soccer with the local kids in each village.

We normally reached our intended villages by mid-afternoon, and our first task was to make camp. After that, we attempted to interact with the local people. To engage them, the teens in our group would start to play soccer. That drew a great number of kids. It didn’t matter that the same language wasn’t spoken; soccer seemed to be the universal language. After playing with us, the kids eagerly brought their parents back later in the evening.

Yeppo, one of the Peruvian missionaries, also walked around the surrounding area with a bullhorn. He’d announce the activities for the evening, which included the “Jesus” film translated into Quechua. As the sun set, the people made their way to us. Some people walked for two or more hours to watch the video and hear what we had to say.

In an area that had virtually no electricity, we had to be fully prepared to share our message. That meant using a generator to power all the equipment. The video projector, the sound system, and a single light bulb were the extent of what we used for the presentations. One little light bulb made a huge difference in a space that was totally dark otherwise.

The “Jesus” movie was shown first. Once it was over, a Peruvian missionary shared the gospel message with the crowd. After that, it was time for the Gringos! Our leader, Pastor Adam, would give a brief introduction to the crowd which was translated by our Peruvian leader, Ade, since he could speak English, Spanish, and Quechua.  Two members from our group would then share their own testimonies, again translated by Ade. After that, we always sang a song in English. Even though the Quechua people didn’t know exactly what we were saying, they seemed to enjoy and appreciate it.




I present a Bible and calendar to one of the Quechua people.
(Photo courtesy of D. Griffieth)

The final moment of every evening was the distribution of the Quechua Bibles. This was a huge event for the villagers, as they’d never before had a Bible in their own language. The mayor of each village called families up one by one, and we took turns presenting them with a Bible. Many families opened the Bibles immediately and started to read by our generator-powered light bulb or by their own headlamps. It humbled me to think how I’d taken for granted owning a Bible in English, and here these people were getting one in Quechua for the first time. The smiles on the people’s faces said it all. This was a big deal. It filled me with joy to be able to spread God’s Word to people who were reading it for the first time…in Quechua!

Next week: Enjoying Peruvian cultural moments