Colca Canyon

This past weekend I took a trip with other students to the Colca Canyon. This canyon is the 2nd deepest canyon in the world, second to another here in Peru. I came away with many stories from this weekend. I’ll start with the bus ride:

This was my first time traveling by bus in Peru, which was definitely a new experience. After about an hour of the 3-4 hour trip, the pavement evolved into a road of dirt and rock. I think it was about another hour or so later that we had pavement again. I wouldn’t be surprised if I lost some brain cells in this part!!!!! The view of this part of Peru was good though: a lot of desert, mountains, and alpacas and llamas.

We had the ¨hook-up¨ from one of our teachers who has family from Yanque, the village we stayed at. The whole weekend only costed $40. We slept in a hostal, and I was pretty comfortable, other than applying almost all of my clothes as PJ’s and sleeping under 4 wool blankets. The coolest part was because of the dry air and blankets there was a mini fireworks show inside the sheets from the static electricity!

Here is our group that went: (2 students from Germany, 3 from Denmark, 2 from ALABAMA!!!!) And here is our teacher and personal tour guide trying to be a condor (that´s Edgar for ya!)

We got up really early to catch the bus out to Colca Canyon, we went early because there are condors who fly around the canyon up until about 8 or so in the morning. We got to the frigid lookout and hung around. It was beautiful, it was steep, and it was cold!!

We saw some condors flying about every 5 minutes or so, but far far away.

After a while (to get our frozen blood moving again) we went for a hike. We saw vizcachas (which look like rabbits with short ears and long tails). (Cute little guys!!! I´m sure they are a nice Peruvian meal as well!)

When we climbed back up to the lookout, it was amazing how many condors were flying around! By this time a lot of vendors were out selling their crafts, and hundreds of tourists were looking at the condors. It was neat in this picture to compare the size of the condors and the people!

There were at least 20 flying at one point, which I hear is rare—many people have gone 2 days in a row and haven’t even seen one! They are so huge and beautiful!

We returned to Yanque and did a few other things. We hiked around, and got a tour of the old Yanque, which the ruins were at least 500 years old. It was so neat to check out! My imagination went crazy wondering what life was like for these people. The irrigation ditches made of stone were still intact, the walls of their houses still standing, some showing evidence that they had 2 floors.

Our teacher, Edgar took us over the river Colca, and we saw some ancient Incan tombs, once again my imagination went crazy again.

We also went to 2 different hot springs. The first one we went to was more for tourists, where the hot spring water was pumped into a pool. The second was my favorite, all natural, clear hot water which was only about 20 yards away from a frigid river. (This definetly made up for some of the cold showers I have had here.) This also was where it was helpful having an inside guide, there were absolutely no tourists here, and there were many Peruvians staring at us like we didn´t belong there (granted there may have not been too many of us ¨gringos¨ there before, and some of the Peruvians were bathing).

Other fun things as pictured was learning a Peruvian dance (it may not seem like it in the picture, but I was really dancing with the girl), and talking a bit to some women with their alpacas.

It was a great weekend: a little escape from what has become normal to me, and a trip to some beautiful parts of Peru with a glimpse into current customs and into ancient Peru.

More of My Life Here

Here are a few more pictures to give you more of an idea of my life here.


This is a picture of my family that was taken at my sister´s graduation:

Eli, Ana, Juan Carlos

This is a cute little park that I walk through everyday on my way to school.

If I remember to look up, here is a beautiful view that I have as I walk to school:

Here is my where my school is held. It is a house, but not used as one. It´s very cozy!

Here are some of the teachers, and some of the former and current students at the school:

Here is another beautiful picture of one of the overlooks here in Arequipa.

And some other random shots that have been taken of me since I got here.....

The first of me eating ¨Túna¨ which is a type of fruit, actually from a cactus. It´s sweet, but full of small hard seeds. I don´t like it too much for that consistency factor.

Attractive, huh?

This one is from when I tended to my ¨patient¨. The water bag in the box sprung a leak, and using my wound care skills I dressed up the wound, but the pressure of the water was too strong, so here I performed a transplant ¨surgery¨ by putting the water in a new bag.

Empanadas: The “Hot Pockets” of Peru

(and other food descriptions for the many questions I’ve received)

Many have asked me about the food here, and what I have been eating. Before I get to that, let me tell you about Empanadas!! These tasty snacks really are the best thing since sliced bread. They are similar to hot pockets but so much better! The sometimes crispy, semi-greasy bread envelops various delicious things: ground beef with mushrooms, onions, or ham and cheese, veggies, or just cheese (the choices are almost endless); or the sweet empanadas have fruit or a sweet cheese on the inside and are powdered with sugar on the outside. I haven’t had all that are available, but of the ones so far, THEY ARE OF GOD!!!



Ok, other foods, and a typical day of meals here. Breakfast (desayuno) is typically a roll, very crispy on the outside that I cut open, and spread on butter and add jelly. If I don’t have the bread my mom serves me fresh fruit with a bit of cereal and yogurt. The best part of breakfast is every morning is the fresh juice I get which is more like a fruit smoothie without ice. Ummmm…….. Lunch (Almuerzo) varies day to day. Here lunch is the biggest meal of the day, but it usually is much later in the day than when you back home eat. I have eaten as early as 1:15 and as late as 3:00. Here in Arequipa there is a different soup for each day of the week, so far I have only had a few of them at lunchtime. Typically lunch is either a soup or salad and then a meal typical of Peru, or Arequipa. Sometimes chicken, sometimes beef, with usually potatoes and rice. Gratefully my Peruvian mom has noticed that when both potatoes and rice are together in the meal, I only eat a bit of the rice. (This has helped in cutting back on the high carbs here!) Dinner is usually simple, a sandwich from that same type of bread from breakfast with ham and cheese.

Familiar items here in Arequipa: KFC, Pizza Hut, Burger King, (Surprisingly not McDonalds…..although I probably wouldn’t go there anyways) Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, Fanta, Gatorade, Twix, Snickers, M&M’s, and other various items. One of my teachers told me of a store here that carries many imported foods. We’re going next week for practice class to check it out! (However, I am sure that an Arby’s Jamoca shake or Jim ‘n Nicks rolls will not be there).

Watch Rip-Offs

Ha! So some of you might remember a bit in my last prayer letter about trust, and whether or not to trust the guy who I took my watch to in order to replace a battery. As is turns out, less than a month after I get that “new” battery, guess what died! So I made mention to my Peruvian mom that I needed to go to a jeweler because of my watch. We actually went to the marketplace and go to different booths until she found a vendor she was satisfied with. The battery cost me a total of 3 soles (less than a dollar) and the vendor took us to a man who replaced the battery for free. When I got my battery replaced (by a used one!) last month it cost 25 soles (a bit under 8 bucks). Needless to say, I got ripped off a month ago. I guess it is a part of learning!!!!

Things Don´t Always Go As Planned

So I am sitting at the computer now writing a new entry, and hopefully catching up on other entries that I have been wanting to write. Originally I was going to go tonight with a few other students to get our visas in Chile, but my stomach had something else in mind. I won´t go into any details, but I think I know where the writers of the movie Alien got their idea for the birth of that little guy. I went to school, and must have looked worse than I thought for my teachers to tell me that I should go home and rest. Sweet as they are, they packed me up with some tea, that is supposed to help my stomach, and sent me on my way. I got back home, explained what I could to my ¨Mamᨠand went up to my room. I didn´t get to sleep any, although I was well pampered with coke, sprite, Peruvian tea, and soda crackers. I watched Notting Hill (since the other night I watched it on TV here in Spanish, and didn´t quite understand everything), and played more spider solitare and Mahjong tiles than ever! Needless to say, God has something else in mind, and I will get my visa soon when I can handle another 6 hour Peruvian bus ride.

Pieces of Manna

I have been reading the book ¨The Allure of Hope¨ by Jan Meyers, and in it the Isrealites and their wandering in the desert is discussed. She writes about how the Lord provided daily manna for their needs as they were longing for the promised land. We are living like the Isrealites as well, in that we are longing for heaven. Daily the Lord provides ¨manna¨ of some sort as we are reminded of heaven or of His provision. Ever since I read about this, I try to find something daily that is my manna. Here are some of my pieces of manna so far:

* When I remember to look up on my walk to school and see an amazing snow capped volcano in the distance

* When I hear 90’s techno music as I am in my spinning class, and briefly close my eyes to be taken back to middle-school end of the year parties at the skating rink (It always brings a smile to my face)

* When I can laugh with my teacher with embarrassment because I accidentally said something nasty in Spanish (that I will not be translating here)

* Opening a certain cabinet in the house here that has a similar smell as my Granny’s old house in Alabama

* Being able to talk to friends back home when they are at the beach and knowing that the same sun they’re cooking under is the same that is roasting me too!

* Seeing a Hyundai Santa Fe for sale (isn´t it ironic...don´t ya think!) in my neighborhood and letting it be a daily reminder that God did provide and He will provide (PS… for those who I may have not updated, Dad bought it from me and traded it and another car in, so it is no longer on my shoulders)

* Receiving sermons from back home, that are in fact more like feasts of manna than pieces of manna. Oh how they feed my soul!

Cultural Swings

If you’ve ever lived in another country for an extended period of time (ha… I’m saying extended and I’ve been here, what? 6 full weeks?)… Anyways, you might understand what I am going though. If you haven’t, let me give you just a peak of cultural adjustment:

One day I absolutely love it here and want to absorb as much as possible from the culture and language. Other days my brain truly feels restrained as if it were in a really tight straight jacket, and sometimes I feel like I’m crazy enough to be in one myself. The swings have instead the come in other time spans as moods throughout my day, instead of the full day. I can be depressed without a clear reason why, yet a few hours later mediocre or back on top of the world. (Is this cultural shock or cultural bi-polarism?) I have seen a lot of what I have experienced so far as an adventure, and recently (because I can’t always predict what kind of mood I am going to be in during the day) my moods each day have become an adventure in and of themselves. Another description of cultural adjustment that I used in my last prayer letter was that I swallowed an emotional parasite.

I think that a lot of this is related to learning the language and the current frustration with not being able to communicate well or understand a lot. I hear a few words and assume something, then find out I was completely wrong. Almost like when I was 8 and my parents were continually telling me that I was not listening.

I have taken to giving myself “English breaks” where I read books (currently on The Allure of Hope which I highly recommend to you ladies!) or listen to music on my IPOD. The funny part of a lot of this is that lately in my attempt to communicate, when I speak in Spanish a few English words will just pop out, or if I am on the phone to someone back home speaking in English, a Spanish word will jump out of my mouth. No, I haven’t dreamt in Spanish yet, and if I did, I can guarantee that I wouldn’t understand it all. I promise, once I do dream in Spanish, it will be on this blog site!

The Director´s Chair

What is it about movies and books that often take us away from reality yet can stir something in our souls? I love stories like this, but they often send my desiring heart down a path of discontentment and disillusionment. I tend to romanticize a lot and dream about what “my story” may be like, instead of seeing my present story from God and letting Him write the screenplay of my life. My heart wants to learn of the characters in later scenes, whether friends, a reunion of friends or family, or of a certain one to lavish my love upon, instead letting Him bring them in from stage left or right in their due time. Its as if I am not happy with the Writer of the script and instead of talking to Him (who is also the Director, Producer, and Special Effects Coordinator), I change the story to what I want as I dream beyond the present or say my lines, even if it is out of the will of the storyline. Instead of asking “What if” I need to think of “what is,” and not jump to later scenes that are not prepared for filming.

I need to focus on the scene at hand, living my role as best as I can only with the help of the Director, and interacting with others in the scene with the love and care that my character is called to be. It is only by His help that I can live out this role and can see what I do through the lens of His camera. Although I make (and will continue to make) mistakes throughout the filming, the camera keeps rolling and the Director doesn’t shout “CUT!!!” and chew me out for a bad take and my horrible skills (since I am the worst of all). Instead He smiles as He looks on with love at the story and those in it, knowing with His editing He will still receive glory for this biographical “Lifetime” movie and will change and redeem my character from all the mistakes I make throughout. In the studio the lights are not on me or others in the story, although I, and others, may presume it is or “hog” the light, it is always on the Director, and He radiates His light upon us.

And He, like a director, isn’t always on his director’s chair, He was before the scene, He is in the scene, and looking back His hand is seen. Usually without my recognition He changes things around to redeem the story from my faults, as well as protecting me in the action scenes since He didn’t need a stunt double for me. (He actually was my stunt double in a scene many years ago when He took the torture that I deserved).

He is also the composer for the musical score in this story, and although I may not audibly hear the music He has written, I feel it in my soul. A synopsis of the overture goes a bit like this: strings playing in a minor chord long, soft notes during the sad scenes; a lively trumpet and cheerful flute echoing notes and rhythms that dance in the happy scenes; the saxophone wailing the blues in the more mellow and depressing scenes; and in all the frustrating and stressful scenes is the disharmonic sound of a middle school band tuning, warming up, and practicing at the same time without order.

He has poured His life, His blood, sweat, and tears into this story and to think that I, and probably other characters in this story, are asking for more from Him: things, money, and easier script to play. We consistently doubt the goodness of the story, perhaps wondering why we took this certain role. We may wish that we looked like someone else in the next studio or that special effects could airbrush us so that our flaws could be hidden. We do not know that in our weaknesses the truth of the story, the compelling truth of our complete depravity is what the Director wants to see to show the audience of His grace and that there is nothing we did to deserve it or earn it. We don’t trust that the Director truly has the good of our character and the story in mind.

When my story is over, the Director only has one Oscar in mind, of which is my heart. He treasures it and will never let it out of His grasp.

Get the Door--its Peruvian Pizza Hut!

I have now learned to have available more than S 29.75 (soles is the currency here) when the Pizza Hut delivery man arrives before the rest of your family who actually ordered the pizza.

Story: It was a calm Sunday afternoon, and since I go to a different church than my family here (mine is located about a 3 minute walk from my house) I made it home before them. I heard the door bell and went down to answer it, being a bit apprehensive of course since I can’t communicate or understand well right now. He (I presume) asked if I ordered the pizza, and I tell him that I don’t speak or understand much, but I didn’t order the pizza. He then looked at the ticket and said “Eli Burns” who is my Peruvian mother. I said (as best as I can) that she isn’t here and must have ordered it by her cell phone. I asked how much the pizza was and he told me it was 32 soles (pronounced so-les). I quickly ran upstairs and counted my money and to my dismay I only had 29.75, and am a bit over 3 soles short, which is the equivalent of about 1 buck! I returned to the impatient pizza man and explained that this was all I had and the lady who ordered it isn’t here. He kept on using the word about returning, and in my attempt to understand him I asked if he was going to return, which made him speak even more rapidly and all I could get was that he had more deliveries to make (which I think I understood that more from common sense than from what he was going off about). The next thing I knew he started to reach for the money in my hand, I jumped back saying “¡Un momento señor!” and as I was trying to question further, thanks be to God, my family arrived home from church! The man received his full 32 soles, we got our hot pizza (it was Hawaiian! Mmmmmmm), and we all got several laughs from my attempt to communicate!

Star Wars in Peru?

The other morning I was walking to school and passed by a school and could hear the band practicing a march. At first the notes sounded so much like the Star Wars Emperial March and I was thinking how bizarre yet cool to hear a Peruvian school band play that! But soon the notes became more clear and it was more of a Peruvian march than something from Star Wars. Relieving but disappointing at the same time.