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Futher up and further in

May 30, 2009 | posted by Lars under peru, reflections, updates

I sing the mighty power of God that made the mountains rise,
that formed the creatures with a word, and then pronounced them Good.
Lord, how thy wonders are displayed where’er I turn my eye,
if I survey the ground I tread, or gaze upon the sky!

The Peruvian Andes.  I really hesitate to write this entry, because I haven’t the faintest clue how.  The past week has been such a sensory, holy experience, that I’ve long resigned myself to - at best - sharing a shadow of these days.

Rather than write, I would much rather step you through the frames of our photos and invite you to a 6:30 supper of potato soup and avacado in the dark of the new moon on the dry western slopes of the Andes, under a sky scattered with ancient light, after which a psalm from the lectionary echoed what the stars sang, “proclaiming [God's] faithfulness at night.”

I’d even prefer to let the letters of this text blur and to climb with you through the pampa alpine meadows, where alpaca graze and the light scent of juniper fills the chill air, which puts hats over ears and sleeves on cold arms.

But you’re not here with me, so my job here is a bit harder.  For now, I’ll try to focus on just one theme from the week, one that has been accentuated for me by spending the better part of a month in the desert:  water.

Western Peru lies in the rain shadow of the Andes, so while east of the mountains lies “the lungs of the world,” where the dense jungle of the Amazon River basin converts a sizeable amount of carbon dioxide into oxygen, hardly anything grows to the west without heavy irrigation and soil fortification.  As we climbed the western slope, however, we began to see the ecosystem diversify, as more cacti were able to survive and various grasses began to appear.  Finally, as we neared the crest of that first ridge, I heard a strange, glad sound.  Looking to my right, there was water, flowing from the earth, around the grasses and over the embankment to the side of the road.  As we descended into the valley and continued deeper into the mountains, this image of water laughing to itself as it overflowed roadside aquaducts became something expected and normal, as did rich green pastures and an abundance of all types of life, as a result.  These springs and glacial waters became streams, which fed into lakes and rivers, which we followed through 1000 foot gorges as they headed north and east, toward the headwaters of the Amazon.  Many towns and villages take advantage of this running water, and create their own reservoirs in the hills above, providing natural water pressure.

As I mentioned earlier, this picture contrasts strongly with the situation in Peru’s coastal region.  While there two weeks ago, we learned that Lima, where one in three Peruvians live, receives less than one inch of rainfall per year.  Because other sources of water are precious few and there is high “water stress” for the 8.5 million Limeños, the Peruvian government is in the process of completing an extensive aquaduct and purification system designed to pipe water from the Andes to the coast for irrigation and human consumption.

Now, this is not inherently bad - people have to drink, after all; but it does raise for us the issue of responsible water consumption.  There have been predictions that in the next century, wars will be fought over water rights (though they’re already playing roles in places like Darfur, and the courtrooms of Florida, Georgia, and Alabama); people live and die over access to clean drinking water (an important distinction, which Jon and I have been feeling in the form of 6L bags of water we purify and drink each day).  How do we, who exhort each other to “pray for peace, and act for peace” on nice white and green flags (at least in the US & Canada), live humbly and love our global neighbors in this regard?

Think about daily water usage and ways to conserve and appreciate it.  Maybe you could put bricks in your toilet to reduce flush volume, or follow the infamous addage, “if it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down” (you’re free to define ‘mellow’ however you’d like!).  Maybe a timer while taking a shower would be helpful, or turning off the water while lathering.  If you water your lawn, think about times when you’ll lose least to evaporation, or just leave the watering to the rain.  Maybe a self-imposed water tax would be appropriate, levying a certain rate per gallon from your water bill and giving the amount to an appropriate organization of your choice.  If you’re really adventurous, you could do what some good friends in Camden, New Jersey have done and remove the U-joints from your bathroom sink and use the water to flush your toilet!

Be creative! Whatever you decide, use it as a reminder to give thanks, to remember those whose basic needs are not met, and to imagine a world where everyone has the water they need, for as followers of Christ, we are not bound by laws and regulations, but by Love.  Together, praying and acting for peace in small ways, we will be like the streams and rivers which over time carve mountains and bring life and refreshment to the land.

Let justice roll down like a mighty river,
and righteousness like a never-failing stream.
-Amos 5:24

Oh, and another reflection from the week: alpaca is delicious.