Articles tagged under peru Home

The Andes, visually

June 20, 2009 | posted by Lars under bolivia, peru, photos | Comments (4)

	Cusco, Peru & surroundings May 31-June 8, 2009
			Cusco to Puno, Perú June 8-10, 2009

	Puno, Perú to La Paz,Bolivia June 11-13, 2009
			La Paz to Cochabamba,Bolivia June 14-17, 2009

Futher up and further in

May 30, 2009 | posted by Lars under peru, reflections, updates | Comments (8)

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.

Looking down, looking ahead

May 21, 2009 | posted by Jon under peru, updates | Comments (9)

Because the community of readers that checks this blog regularly has been so supportive of this trip through emails, offers for places to stay, and comments, I figured I owed it to “the enjoyment of the people” to quickly recount an event that actually just happened minutes after Lars’ last post, while we were staying with the Catholic church in Barranca.

Long story short, I fell in a hole.  I know, I don’t remember the last time I fell in a hole either… To my defense, the Plaza de Armas (where the church was located) was being COMPLETELY redone, and there were dangerous 5-6 foot deep trenches everywhere.  Even so, I usually see myself as a fairly well-balanced person, especially from all the slackline practice I have indulged in at EMU.  Despite this, as I was wheeling my BOB trailer around on the sidewalk, I suddenly stepped where there was nowhere to step.  In a split-second I found myself standing upright, chin deep in a hole with my BOB trailer on top of me, and a wonderfully kind 80-year-old Catholic priest trying to help me out of the hole.  I politely but quickly declined his help, not wanting to have the father in the hole as well as I climbed out and dusted myself off.  I later learned that I had fallen on the city water main, which thankfully remained intact despite my landing on it.  I was quite glad to be spared the title of “The Gringo who flooded the Plaza de Armas,” and walked away from the whole thing laughing at myself.

The next day my right shoulder was quite stiff and it hurt to bear weight on it, so we took a bus to Lima, where we were fortunate enough to find the Mennonite church in Lima and stay with them for the long weekend.  We enjoyed getting to know Jaqueline, (”the encargada” at the church while the pastor is on vacation), and the youth of the congregation.  We sang songs and told stories (in Spanish) Saturday night in Miraflores Park, as well as had lunch with the youth on Sunday afternoon.  We also enjoyed having access to a well-equipped kitchen and being within walking distance of a giant grocery story. Highlights include sweet potato and spinach curry and some wonderful avocado/egg/aji sandwiches which I believe are pictured in our photo gallery.

Since leaving Lima on Monday, we’ve encountered:

Hospitality in Mala - staying in a Catholic elementary school and being served delicacies such as potted meat and paneton, the Latin American fruitcake, which is quite good.

Healing in Pisco - the town suffered an earthquake in 2007 which registered a magnitude 8.0 and lasted for 3 minutes.  Much of what we encountered there was related to rebuilding and piecing back together what used to be.

Healthy Eating in Ica - where we purchased 1.8 L of drinkable peach yogurt and then stretched that with another 1 L of 3 grain enriched milk beverage.  The combo was quite good, and we got our dairy for the rest of our time in the Andes.

Today we find ourselves in Nazca, among the mysterious lines and the foothills of the Andes.  We plan to rest here for a day, then begin our journey upwards on Saturday, the 23rd.  We ask for your continued prayers and thoughts as we switch gears, terrain, culture, and climate once again on our way to Paraguay.

Notes from the Peruvian Desert

May 13, 2009 | posted by Lars under peru, updates | Comments (9)

A couple of jottings from the past two weeks since we landed on this continent, as they come to me (read: loosely reverse chronological, by topic):

• We’ve been biking countless hours through the Peruvian desert mostly into headwinds of 20+ mph.  Or, we’d rather not count them too closely - though 7-10 hours a day is a good estimate.  Being deserts, these have been largely dry and, well, deserted sections of road, though as we’ve come farther south, some days begin with heavy fog (depending on the heat of the day before, from what we can gather), where one can only barely see truck headlights 100 meters ahead.
• With this desert travel, we camped for the first time in the Sechura Desert of northern Peru.  We slept out beneath the stars, about 60 miles from anything larger than the odd solitary adobe and mat home.
• Thanks to the headwinds, we spent one afternoon hitching rides with truckers.  My achilles tendons were complaining loudly about having to pull a not-so-aerodynamic set of panniers around, and with a month in the Andes beginning in a week and a half, we opted to err on the side of rest.  Praise God that they have been feeling better this week.
• Two days ago, we stayed with the Missionaries of Charity in Chimbote.  For those not well versed in their Catholic religious orders, this is the order founded by Mother Teresa in Kolkata, India with a committment to “wholehearted and free service to the poorest of the poor.”  We may not have been “the poorest of the poor,” but they took us in anyway and almost effortlessly, it seemed, made us feel at peace and at home.  Their radiant, though subdued dispositions and simple, relaxed presence were models to me of the fruit of deep prayer and service.
• While staying with the Marist fathers (another Catholic order) in Sullana, through serendipitous conversations, we were able to connect with the Peruvian Mennonite Church there and for several days in Trujillo, with good hopes for Lima.  “Oh, you’re Mennonite?” the Irish priest asked us.  “The ladies I was just talking with mentioned something about a Mennonite church in Sullana.”  Sometimes, when email addresses and phone numbers don’t go through, word of mouth still works…
• In Sullana, while preparing for the desert stretches ahead, we decided to make homemade granola bars.  By the end of the whole endeavor, we chalked it up to an experience in intercultural cookie baking, though, from finding ingredients in the grocery store to baking them at the home of the parish house cook.  All things considered, they tasted and looked great, though the ants made us eat them quicker than we would have liked…
• We have three new photo albums up, from the banana plantations of Ecuador, to northern fishing towns (including the setting for Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea) where life echoes with empty static like the inside of a seashell, through the desert moonscapes, and on…
• And now, it’s time to walk back to the Catholic church here in Barranca, where we’re staying the night.  It’s nice to need long sleeves in the evenings and a sleeping bag at night again (but winter in the Andes? ask me in two weeks!).  It seems like ages ago that we were similarly bundled up in Georgia, but we’re coming full circle on the seasons over the course of this trip!