Quechua

Diosqa anchatapunin runakunata munakurqan, chaymi span Churinta qomurqan, pipas, paypi iniqqa ama winaypag wanunanpaq, aswanpas winaypaq kawsananpaq.

Juan 3:16

Quechua is a difficult language. I told you a little about it before. I learned more yesterday. For some words – I think words what are addressing a person – it changes according to who is speaking it, a man or woman. I cannot call a man wakke (brother) because only a man can use that word to call someone brother. My word would be Tura. Sometimes, Quechua has not had the word needed to communicate the Bible. The translators just put the Spanish word, or a Quechua-ized Spanish word for it. For instance, in the verse above, you can see the word “Diosqa”. 

Here are some other words:

Manan – no

Ari - yes

Wasi – house

Wakke/tura- brother

Pana/nana – sister

Gringu simi – English

Numbers: Uc, iskay, kinsa, tawa, pisqa, suqta, qanchis, pusaq, isqun, chunka

Sapo Verde

How many of you have eaten garlie bread or sanguiches? Do you care for some breah’fast? Would you like to buy some shoes at the local shoe store, Athlete’s Foot? Perhaps you are hungry for some "desset" after your meal - hmmm, they must have gotten that from a British tourist. Spanish Americanisms often give us a good laugh. They take a phrase they hear and spell and use it however they heard it. How about the title of this post – can anyone guess what English phrase it represents? Good luck.

Typhoid

My aunt went to the seminary the other night to teach a sanitation/hygiene class. There have been a couple cases of typhoid in town, and now two seminary students have it.  It is contagious through feces and vomit as well as food and drink that have been contaminated by flies and other insects. Symptoms include: high fever, persistent headache, abdominal discomfort, constipation, diarrhea, nasal bleeding, weakness, dizziness and nausea. Basically, the students just feel terrible. Peruvians often don’t get the symptoms as bad as someone from the States, for instance, would get it. Complications can be fatal, but the students are on antibiotics.

Such things as germs are not though of much here. Sharing cups and spoons is common; washing hands is uncommon. On Monday when we were helping at the mudslide, we got hungry and thirsty; some ladies were feeding the workers and giving them chicha. Opting to skip the chicha, we asked for pop. They found a small amount and even had a glass for us. A man poured the glass for Kristie. She drank, and handed it back. He carefully poured me some, so I drank and handed it back. So on down the line of all seven of us. Before we drank, he had probably just rinsed the glass – they don’t often actually wash their dishes.

Another factor here is the water which carries all kinds of nasty stuff in it; dead animals, earthworms and such are a few of the things my aunt has seen in the water. Most of the students try to not drink the water, but they grew up drinking it, so they will sometimes if they are thirsty or brushing their teeth. So my aunt presented many new thoughts to them that are common knowledge and practice to Americans. Please pray that typhoid will not spread any more, particularly at the seminary. We were going to have a week for highschoolers who might want to come to the seminary, but it was cancelled just to be careful. The students aren’t allowed to help at church right now, either; Marc, Kristie and I suddenly became OANSA (OWANA) helpers last night to fill in.

As you can tell, I am learning a lot about practical life on the mission field!

El Huayco

"Huayco" is Quechua for mudslide. I walked to the seminary this morning, so the main road, Mariscal Castilla, is passable for walkers. People are still shoveling out houses and clearing off their sidewalks. Machines are working on the streets and putting the river back. I have not seen the reservoir. It is fifteen feet deep and was almost completely full of mud and rocks. We still have water since the cistern "just happened" to be full before the mudslide. The city is bringing water up for other people and they are making do. I put up pictures on facebook.

State of Emergency

The first time I was woken up, it was still dark. I had only been sleeping for a couple hours. My uncle flipped the light on. “There was a mud slide. Houses and fields have been filled with mud and rocks. People farther down are evacuating. Sharon and I are going to see if we can help. I’m leaving you with my cell.” I put the phone under my pillow, promised to evacuate the kids if I got word to or saw the need to, and went back to sleep. I was exhausted from a thirteen-hour car ride that day, and he hadn’t sounded too urgent. The second time he woke me up, it was to give me flashlights because all the power was out. They went under my pillow too. The third time I woke up, he was pulling the extra mattress out of my room for some “refugees” from farther down.

At six, I woke up, heard something downstairs, and decided to go see what had happened. Sharon had just come in from being out all night. She showed me pictures of where the road had been. A small river had flowed beside the road. This had been filled with mud and huge rocks, and the muddy water now flowed down the street into town. She had spent the night holding the light so the men could try to save some houses and rescue their animals out of the angry water.

Peru has two seasons: rainy season and dry season. We are coming into rainy season right now. It also has warmed up. They say the mudslide came from where the glacier is, high up on the mountain; people are guessing that a lake is forming up there. It washed out part of the main road in town, filled up the downstairs of many houses, washed away animals, and – worst of all – dumped a significant amount of mud and rock into the water reservoir that supplies all the water of Chichubamba (the community we live in). The reservoir is now full of mud and unusable.

Ken came back around 7:30 and woke up all the kids. Chichubamba was declared in a state of emergency and everyone was to come help dig out mud and try to put the river back where it belonged. We put on our mud boots or sandals, warm clothes, and set out. I had been wearing sandals, but on my way up the Incan stairs, I slipped and cut both feet and peeled back part of two toenails. So I put on socks and boots and limped out.

Everyone was just standing around. Ken had disappeared to scout out the situation and there seemed to be nobody in charge. They discussed the mudslide, the state of the road, walked up and down, and stood in groups again. We didn’t know what to do, so we walked up and down and stood around for a while too. Finally, we went farther up the mudslide and found some people working. They showed us what we could do, so we started working. People stood and watched the gringo kids without doing anything themselves. Some helped us. We ended up spending about five hours in glacier water, building dams or just throwing rocks out to make the banks higher.

Toward afternoon, more people got involved and I ended up helping deepen the river where it should be. Guys went ahead with their picos and got out the big rocks. Those of us who did not have tools just stood in the water and threw out the medium-sized rocks. Every once in a while, we stopped and thawed out our hands. I was glad I could not feel my feet or they would have hurt. Reporters from Lima and Cusco came and took pictures. I was disgusted with how many people just stood around and took pictures. Seriously. They took a special interest in the gringos. They thought it very strange that we would work with the people, especially since our house had not been directly affected. The reporter from Lima was taking pictures of us and wanted us to pose, but we just ignored him; but he got Kristie’s name and that she was from the U.S.

We went back to the house late in the afternoon, feeling that we had significantly identified with the community. The power is on, but we are conserving water since it may be days before we can pump from the reservoir. It is possible to shower off in a little under a gallon of water. Then you use the bath water to flush the toilet. Leftover dishwater flushes the toilet too. We may end up putting the outhouse back into use, doing laundry at the seminary, and hauling water for house use and drinking; it depends on how long it takes to clean out the reservoir. We’re hoping it is less than a week.

Piano Lessons

I now am a piano teacher at a seminary. My aunt is my assistant/translator. Everyone wants very much to learn music, but there is almost no one to teach them. These seminary girls are finishing school, often marring into the ministry and wishing very badly that they could play for church – at the very least play the melody line.  My aunt suggested I teach piano, so I have been praying about it and working on learning musical terms in Spanish for a couple weeks.

Ten students signed up for the class. Fifteen showed up last night – about half the seminary. Like everything else, a group piano lesson is a time to socialize. We started out with a rather class-roomy feel and nine students, all girls except for Constantino, who had been working by himself to learn what music he could. A few more girls trickled in, I got more comfortable and we interactively worked through some beginning theory; it was fun. The preacher-boy class ended about halfway through my lesson and five excited guys invaded the classroom, ready to learn. And smile at the blond gringa. We divided the students into three groups. While my aunt reviewed theory with two of the groups, I did a piano lesson with the other. Two or three students sat on the bench and played the same song at the same time in different octaves. The other students looked over their shoulders and pointed out everything they did wrong. It was very funny, but the collective knowledge of the group helped everyone out.

Instead of getting out at 8 pm, the last student left around 9:15. I don’t know if we can keep up this style of piano lessons after everyone has had a couple weeks of progressing at their own pace – they will be playing different songs from each other much of the time. Since no one has piano music, I am having the whole piano book copied and leaving the copy on the piano for their use. The students were strictly prohibited from taking it off. I don’t know how much my students learned, but I picked up quite a bit; sometimes the students knew more than I did. I didn’t even know the Spanish terms for the notes. So they had fun teaching me, too.

Feliz Cumpleanos

Peruvians like get-togethers. A birthday offers a perfect opportunity to play games, eat, and embarrass someone else. Rachel Tarvin was the blessed object of this loving attention this past week. For three hours, we sat and played simple but fun games, only a few of which were directed at embarrassing people. I was told it was a very tame social. No birthday is complete without the lucky birthday person getting their face smashed in the cake – it is as traditional as opening presents. Aunt Rachel knew it was coming. Maria oh-so-innocently brought the cake over to Aunt Rachel, pretending like she was going to just hand it to her. Taking advantage of her six foot height, Aunt Rachel swiped the cake away, stood up on her bench (way out of reach of the short Peruvians), and took a big bite out of one edge. This satisfied them and they got a good laugh at her adroitness.

Congreso de Jovenes

Last week-end I had the opportunity to go to a Congreso de Jovenes – teen retreat. The church in Arin, where the Whatley’s minister, hosted the event for churches as far as eight hours away. Many young people were there, from various home situations and at various stages of spiritual maturity. Kristie, Raquel and I were careful to not form our own “Gringa Group” and talked to as many girls as we could. Peruvians are extremely social people – more so than Americans. To a higher degree than Americans, they are the most comfortable and have the most fun in a group. Many of the girls were willing to talk to me and bear my bad Spanish long enough to have a profitable conversation.

When you go to a camp or retreat in Peru, you must bring your own dishes and utensils. After eating, just rinse out your bowl and it is ready to use again. We had typical Peruvian fare when cooking for large crowds. Breakfast was hot chocolate with two pieces of bread to dip in it – a favorite of mine. Lunch was soup and a segundo. In Peru when you go to a restaurant or a meal, you will order a menu which has two courses: soup, then segundo which is always rice with some sort of bean sauce, meat, or fried egg. For dinner, we had just segundo. I was glad I was really hungry and it was too dark to see what I was eating. The chunks of “meat” in the segundo just felt weird. Kristie told me it was the inside of the intestines; they are chewy tubes with a somewhat grassy feeling.

We had three main speakers. Cristobal spoke on evolution, Uncle Ken on biblical relationships, and Pastor Ruben on music. After lunch, girls and guys divided up and had a “questionario,” asking missionary wives and pastor’s wives any questions they had. Most were about how to handle things at home when parents are unsaved and relationships. The core issues that young people struggle with here are very similar in the states, but most have very little spiritual encouragement at home. Sometimes it seems like those few whose parents are saved are the ones who are the most spiritually hardened.

Both afternoons, we had a treasure-hunt kind of game. One led us to a huge waterfall, then other led us to a kidnapped victim who looked remarkably like my uncle. We found him parked in his car, watching Fiddler on the Roof, waiting for us.

I almost skipped the congreso to work on school, but am glad I did not. For one week-end I lived with thirty Peruvian girls. Now I am looking forward to next month, staying with a national pastor for a week in the jungle!

"I cannot tell a lie"

Americans are familiar with the story of George Washington as a child, “Father, I cannot tell a lie.” We nicknamed our sixteenth president “Honest Abe.” From the founding of our country, honesty and integrity are valued and even expected. True, America may not exactly be considered godly, but some morality, apart from godliness, still is woven into our very fiber. Not so here. The culture here is to be dishonest. Lying, stealing, cheating, bribing may be against the law – after all, Peru is in the twenty-first century. However, it is the norm, and there is no punishment for doing it. Policemen are absolutely corrupt, taking bribes right and left. Why earn when you can steal? Let’s make life a little easier and just cheat on this test. For a believer, to leave off these characteristics is more than just to have victory over a sin – it is to break with their lifestyle, worldview, culture.

Survival mode

People here live on the defensive. You have to fight for your rights or you get walked on.  In the states, the customer is always right; you want internet? – we shall have you hooked up by the end of the week and is there any other way we can help you? Here, you are wrong. You want us to hook you up to internet? Well, do this and this first. We will not get around to it this week. Your expectations are unreasonable. You must pay us extra for this and this. About a year later, you get internet! Little things set people off. Why assume the best when you can assume the worst? Why think well of someone when you perceive a reason to doubt them? They are not out to get you in particular; the culture simply responds that way. It is expected. Peruvians expect themselves and others to be depraved. “Why did you trust him? Of course he will rip you off!” they might tell you. All we are thinking is, “Can I not give him the benefit of a doubt at least?” No. That’s too American. 

Why?        

                                                                                                                                          

Again, they live on the defensive.  Things do not come easily. Survival mode has become their natural habitat, whether necessary now or not. In the past, it has been necessary. One cannot live long here without seeing that many live in poverty or just out of its reach.  Those who do not are probably not even financially comfortable. Looking out for others, going out of your way for them, or giving something away is a luxury; they so long have not had the capacity or energy to do so that it is foreign to those who could.

Prayer Requests

Some of you have been asking for my prayer requests. I sat down a couple weeks ago to think through them. Here they are for you all:

I am constantly trying to find the balance between school and life. So many interesting and good things come up that I would rather do than school.

Service opportunities: I may help with a children's choir and am planning on teaching a music class at the seminary. When I can go on a trip, I bring my flute and give my testimony in Spanish. Pray that God can use me even with my limited Spanish.

Language: I can understand but am limited in what I can communicate.

Making friends: I would love to make some friends at the seminary who will correct me when I make mistakes, show me their homes, and allow me to get to know them and how they think.

Personal spiritual walk and a burden for souls

Health

Discernment and wisdom: I need wisdom in every area of life, all the time. Sometimes here, though,  I am in a situation or viewed a certain way because I am a "Gringa" and need wisdom how to handle it.

Those are the basics. If you have any questions, just let me know. If you have specific questions about the culture or what I do that you would like me to address on my blog, let me know that as well.