Articles tagged under updates Home
Asunción 2009! We’ve arrived!
July 10, 2009 | posted by Lars under gys, mwc, paraguay!, updates | Comments (38)
A bit after noon yesterday, under a grey sky reminiscent of our first days of biking in Virginia, we rolled into Colegio Gutenberg, where the Global Youth Summit will take place this weekend as a part of the Mennonite World Conference Assembly here in Asunción. We were accompanied by two youth from a Mennonite church here in Asunción for the last 10 miles or so, and after arriving, being greeted by folks, and reenacting our arrival for the MWC photographer, we began to settle into the campus which is now filling with young adults from all around the globe.
Among the many new faces from Paraguay, Cambodia, and everywhere in between, it’s been wonderful to also see people we left weeks or months ago, from Bolivia, Mexico, Peru, and several from the United States, including the EMU cross-cultural. We had an informal service last night for those who arrived early, but the summit begins in earnest in 20 minutes, at 9:00; being a part of this incredibly diverse gathering is an exciting opportunity and I look forward to the many interactions and conversations which will come out of it (and already are!). At the same time, it’s rather surreal to actually be here. We left Harrisonburg just over 6 months ago, and have traveled though 12 countries and more than 12,000 kilometers (around 7,750 miles), spent time in many places and with many people of diverse backgrounds and beliefs; we’ve been through many seasons and climates, and now we’re here, among many others, also representing many experiences, cultures, and congregations. May God be glorified in these days - in our interactions, conversations, worship, meals, and recreation!
Filadelfia, Paraguay
July 4, 2009 | posted by Lars under paraguay!, reflections, updates | Comments (4)
I am glad, on this fourth of July evening, to be resting in the City of Brotherly Love. After a truly spectacular week of biking - riding 550 miles in 6 days, staying with a “traditional” Mennonite family on a colony in Bolivia, seeing incredible wildlife (including a toucan, several armadillos, & flocks of parrots) and unique flora, eating empanadas and staying the night with the Paraguayan customs officials, and riding with a young woman from Filadelfia 90 miles into town today - it feels wonderful to rest again, here in the home of the Klassens in Fernheim Colony, in the center of the Great Paraguayan Chaco.
It seems serendipitous that, on the day the USA celebrates its independence, we would be reminded by our host town’s name of the undergirding importance of love, over all. We, it seems, are not so independent after all; and maybe that shouldn’t even be our goal. Life seems much richer as it is given freely and shared with others; exclusion and self-preservation may be the way of the nations, but it doesn’t seem like the way of Life.
That said, we had delicious asado - barbequed steak & pork - and ice cream made with milk from the colony’s dairy today for supper with the Klassens. It reminded me of celebrating the fourth with family and friends in what feels like a parallel world back home, where the hamburgers, homemade ice cream, and fireworks all seem to point, not to our individual autonomy, but to our community. We, when we live well, live as if we need each other.
Nine days!
June 30, 2009 | posted by Lars under bolivia, gys, mwc, updates | Comments (9)
It’s hard to believe after nearly 6 months of traversing the American macrocontinent that in nine days we’ll be rolling into Asunción, the day before the Global Youth Summit begins on July 10. In order to make this journey manageable, I’ve taken it day by day and section by section. Now, with the end of our ride very much on the horizon (not literally, yet; though much of the chaco is flat), there are many thoughts, large and small, running through my head. More on those may come later; for now, a bit on our time in Santa Cruz.
We had a wonderful extended weekend in Santa Cruz spending time with the two Mennonite churches in the city and with MCC Bolivia, which has its headquarters and much of its present work there as well. Saturday evening, we were able to get together with some of the youth who are planning to attend the youth summit and world conference assembly for an interesting and lively time of fellowship and discussion on the theme of the summit, which will be ”service: live the difference.“ Their final fundraiser for their trip was a meal the next day after church, which we (and many from both churches) gladly joined them for. I didn’t hear how much was raised, but it surely seemed like a (delicious) success to me.
It’s amazing to think of all the people who have been making preparations to be a part of this assembly. By this point, the first of many trails from around the world are no doubt beginning to converge on Asunción to prepare for the swarms which will follow. More incredible yet, we who will be in attendance will only be representatives of diverse Anabaptist congregations from many disparate communities around the globe; and we Anabaptists, only one of many confessions of faith in the same triune God, incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth. I can only imagine, that, as one of the youth on Saturday - a YAMENera from Zimbabwe, who was at Assembly 14 in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe - said, of the assembly, “it must be a little taste of what heaven will be like.”
In order to make the assembly more financially accessible to all, registration is based on a fair share principle, where fees are pro-rated according to basic costs of living in one’s home country. Beyond that, there are travel funds to assist delegates who have been chosen by their church conferences as representatives to the general assembly and youth summit (for North American readers, in this context, church conferencesrefers to members of the MWC - MCUSA and MCCanada would each be such a conference). For those of you who have browsed this site or spoken with us, you know that helping raise money for the global youth travel fund is part of the goal of this bike ride; for those who haven’t, you’ve been informed. 
We tend not to make solicitations, but several times throughout our journey churches have spontaneously taken offerings for our trip expenses, which has both surprised and humbled us. Our expenses largely being covered (and being relatively low), these offerings have been designated for the global youth travel fund. On one occasion about two and a half months ago, a small church gave us what they called “a small gift,” lavishing us with US$50. I couldn’t help but think what it would be like if each of the 939 Mennonite churches in the USA were to contribute $50 to help youth from around the world attend the gathering in Asunción. That $50,000 alone would easily cover the fund’s remaining goal as of last January of $30,000 (the most recent data I have); and that doesn’t even begin to include Mennonite congregations outside the United States, or Brethren in Christ churches anywhere.
Whatever your accounting of $50 is - whether it’s your dream, your bank account or your pocket change - big things are easily achieved with the contributions of many. If you’d like to make a donation - in any amount - to the global youth travel fund, click here or on the icon on the left sidebar of this (or any) page.
Meanwhile, back on the Altiplano…
June 20, 2009 | posted by Jon under bolivia, reflections, updates | Comments (6)
Altiplano: (high plain) An extensive plain that sits at around 11,000 feet above sea level and occupies parts of Chile, Peru, Argentina, Bolivia, and Ecuador, the altiplano is the largest high plateau in the world except for that of the Himalayas in Tibet (Wikipedia).
Besides pondering how many pounds of dirt and rock were underneath our wheels as we rode through this high plain, these past three weeks bring so many rich and varied experiences to mind that I am at a loss as to how to tie them all together, so I will call upon the help of the three photo albums that we just posted to supplement the small tidbits I will leave you with below, in more or less of a chronological order.
- While in Cusco, we had the privilege of staying with Shultz Family, missionaries there with EMM who are closely tied with the Mennonite church in Cusco as well as PROMESA, a Mennonite affiliated bilingual school begun in 2005. Looking back on it, our time with the Shultz´s was, I think, one of our most comfortable long term stays on this trip. By the time we left (8 days later), I essentially felt like a member of the Shultz family, and was continually amazed by the quality of the home cooked food that came out of their kitchen. The hospitality didn´t end when we left either, as we were sent off with 4 sandwiches, 6 homemade bagels, trail mix, dried apples, 8 peppermint patties, and a variety of fresh fruits. Lars and I talked about how our experience with the Shultz Family provided us with an excellent example of how to be hospitable to others in our own homes when we return to the US.
- Almost three days of riding outside of Cusco, along the northern shores of Lake Titicaca, we had the good fortune to stumble upon a local government capacitation initiative to teach women from the outskirts of Puno how to naturally dye alpaca yarn to use in knitting various handmade clothing articles to see in the artisan markets in Puno and elsewhere. It was wonderful to see all of the colors, to chat with the women, and to share with them the excitement of learning a new skill. They also shared with us some wonderful potatoes (baked in the earth), which we dipped into two delicious sauces, one which was also made of earth (see a theme here?). We left this roadside capacitation project full of hope for these women and more sure than ever that the best way to encounter interactions like this is by traveling slowly, by bicycle.
- Leaving Puno, we encountered our first paro, or strike. This strike was a nationwide initiative to call attention to deals the Peruvian government was making with international corporations in the selva, or rain forest portion of Peru that gave the corporations basically free reign over the land, with little regard or consultation to the people actually living there. We encountered people demonstrating, making speeches, and many sparkling shards of broken glass and rocks on the road, which made for nice traffic-free riding
- Arriving in the tiny town of Acora after dodging glass shards and spending our last few minutes of daylight, we sought out the local parish, but were disappointed to find no one there. A few minutes later a priest came running up to the door, hurrying us inside, telling us we were crazy for being out here in this cold, doing what we were doing. Many cups of coca tea and pieces of bread with fried eggs later, we learned that Victor, a German priest that had lived in Altiplano for many years, was not your typical Catholic priest. He was living way out in the campo, helping the farmers to manage their crops and livestock in ways that made sense, were inexpensive, and provided better yields in an already harsh environment. Victor was one of those people that it was just easy to connect with, and we thoroughly enjoyed talking to him before we retired to our cozy room for the evening, only to have Victor knock on the door and gift us each with some German chocolate sent by his mother. It was delicious, but even more so for the generosity involved.
- Fast-forwarding to the more recent, after memories of fiery sunsets over Lake Titicaca (yes, our camera batteries DID run out right at that moment), seeing friends in La Paz, and an exhilarating descent into the Cochabamba Valley, we arrived in downtown Cochabamba, where we were met by Natalia, an SPI participant who offered to host us after hearing about our trip. Our stay with them has been a blessing, especially since I have been battling a rather fierce GI bug for the last few days. However, I can report that things are improving, and that I am well hydrated after 1.5 L of Mandarin Gatorade, 2 L of sugar/salt water, and a variety of soups and broths made by our wonderful hosts.
So what is to be taken from each of these experiences?
Notice the people around you. Open your house to them. Teach them something new. Provide them with new work. Stand with them in injustices. Usher them in from the cold. Live with them out in the sticks. Give them part of your mother´s care package. Care for them when they are ill.
These are lessons that I have learned from the past three weeks, but only because I was on the receiving end of almost all of them. May I (we) have the courage of employ such practices in our own lives, so that others may be on the receiving end of God´s provision.
Futher up and further in
May 30, 2009 | posted by Lars under peru, reflections, updates | Comments (7)
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!
On to South America…
May 1, 2009 | posted by Jon under updates | Comments (5)
Despite Managua, Nicaragua being the “official” halfway point, last Friday, April 24th, Lars and I pulled into Panama City, ending our North American portion of our route. At the time I would have loved think about the occasion more, but we decided to go out in style by waking up at 4 AM and riding 155 miles in one day to get into Panama City a day early. We finished the day just as the sun was setting over the Bridge of the Americas, and without too much trouble, which was encouraging for us, especially with the Andes still ahead.
After showering, sleeping very well Friday night, and doing some journaling, I finally had time to think about the end of this leg of our journey and the beginning of South America (no revelations promised).
First, I cannot believe that we are at this point in our trip already. For all of those lonely, uncomfortable times on the bike these past few months have moved rather quickly.
Second, I have been blown away by the hospitality of…people. Not any one type or faith background in particular, but just people in general. We have yet to use the tent we have been carrying, and time and time again we have been offered food, money, a shower, a bed, or even simply advice. We are journeying with the prayers and love sent from back home and the direct assistance of those we have met along the way. This combination of support has been incredible to experience. A wonderful, unexpected surprise.
Third, (and I think I can speak for Lars here), our experience with the North America we passed through has been rich. The people we have met, the foods we have tried, the cultures we have encountered, the communities we have entered all have been blessings to us - helping to make this experience of sharing with and pedalling through 8 countries unforgettable, and we still have 4 left!
Things I will miss about North America (mostly food related…sorry): Mexican sweet bread, the EMU Guatemala Cross Cultural, Dos Pinos and Estrella Azul icre cream (Costa Rica and Panama, respectively), gallo pinto (Nicaragua and Costa Rica), the Gorton´s house in San Isidro (Costa Rica), Lago Atitlan (Guatemala), Po-Boy´s and The Shed’s barbecue (Southern US), Nutella and peanut butter (wherever it is less than $4 a jar), Oaxacan crickets and mole, and the number of Mennonite contacts we had along our route…..
Things I am looking forward to about South America: the Andes, the native lands of squash, sweet potatoes, and Inca Kola, eating guinea pig, buying alpaca souvenirs, connecting with Andean churches and Mennonites in the Chaco, trying to breath at 14 or 15,000 feet, being cold again.
Prayers of thanks: for safety, for good health, for a good riding companion, for this experience thus far….
Prayer requests: for continued safety, for the ”difficult” sections we have spotted on our maps, for continued good health (especially as we start climbing), for our families, friends, and ourselves as we continue on to another continent….
Lord, you have come to the shoreline
May 1, 2009 | posted by Lars under costa rica, reflections, updates | Comments (7)
Last summer, shortly after we both graduated from EMU, a good friend of mine went to Costa Rica for three months. He had a job as a nurse lined up for the fall in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and he wanted to learn some Spanish so he could care for his patients who wouldn’t be able to speak English. He had been there the summer before, briefly, with the EMU cross cultural program, and had met a missionary couple with a goat farm who he arranged to live and work with for the summer. On a beach outing to the Pacific while there, though, he drowned. It’s difficult to articulate exactly how deeply Matt’s death rocked his communities, but the grief was searing.
Two weeks ago, as we passed through Costa Rica, we had the opportunity to visit the farm where Matt lived and worked, high in the mountains between San Isidro del General and the Pacific Ocean. The 7 km (4.2 miles) between the main road and the farm are, by far, the most rugged riding of our trip so far (we had to walk our bikes back down the mountain), but arriving there was beautiful. We arrived after dark, drenched in sweat and several skintones darker with dirt, and it was as if we were entering another world. I at once felt comfortable and at home, eating supper with Gerardo & Helen, conversing quietly, and washing the grime from my tired body. We spent the evenings chatting in the house by intermittent light from the hydroelectric generator (we were visiting at the end of the dry season) and enjoying the peace of the evening stillness, and the day milking goats, hiking around the property, learning about the farm, and catching up on journalling.
It is an incredibly beautiful place, and Gerardo & Helen are at least as beautiful of people. There was a very tangibly restful atmosphere there, which was such a relief from the touristy beat of Costa Rica. It was a peace, I think, borne of a deep and easy connection to the land - a rootedness, if you will - that resembles, somewhat, a marriage. Each is committed to the other for the long haul, and the chafing of trying to leave the farm behind and ”make something of yourself” is absent. I’m gushing. It was an oasis to be there, and I am thankful for it. I hope the pictures can describe this better than I am able.
As we left, we made our way back down the mountain and to the coast, stopping briefly at Las Ventanas, a little, rock-edged cove, lined with coconut palms.
That day, I had two songs rolling through my mind as I rode - “Señor, tú has venido a la orilla” (a hymn Gerardo & Helen remember Matt singing), and “Joy in the Journey,” sung by Full Table.
A glut of photos
April 20, 2009 | posted by Lars under el salvador, guatemala, honduras, mexico, nicaragua, photos, updates | Comments (1)
For those who haven’t already seen them, we’ve recently posted quite a number of photo albums in our gallery for a visual synopsis of our journey.
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