I´m am sitting in the park just around the corner from the house. (I am writing this by hand and will type it later when I get home.) The park is called Parque Tupac Amaru. Althought the sun is shining, I need a sweater. The thinner air at this altitude means the sun has to work harder in order to warm the earth. In front of me (and behind me for that matter, because we are in a valley), rise a part of the majestic Andes Mountains. Because we are in the dry season, they are brown. Mostly bare of trees (again, because of the altitude), a few patches of what appear to be evergreen trees cover the gullies and draws on the hillside.

Parque Tupac Amaru is not a park designed for playing games of volleyball or soccer. Instead it is a place for walking and talking and sitting with family and friends. In the corner opposite of where I am sitting is a tree sided column with a saying in three languages: La paz prevelezca en la tierra — Allin kay pacha niñaypaq kachun — The peace prevails in the earth. The gardens of the park–and they cover all the space not taken by a concrete pond or a water fountain we have not yet seen in use–remind me of an English style garden (with Latin influence, of course), and they are very important. In one of the trees is a hand painted sign with the words, “La planta es el alma del jardín. No lo mates.” (The plant is the soul of the garden. Don´t kill it). In another tree is another sign simply stating, “Cuida la naturaleza” (take care of the natural environment). For the most part, people say on the wide sidewalks and plazas. A group of school kids (probably around 13 years old) play an improvised game of volleyball, without a net and on the concrete space near the three cornered sign. They are loud with their cheers and groans, which is a bit out of place in the quiet culture of the people of the mountains.

Across the street to the south of the park is a catholic church. Using modern archetecture, it looks much like a three cornered hat. It´s cross rises high above the surrounding buildings on a square pillar. It´s bell tower twisted outward like a baby´s building block. On the face of the church are the words, “Paz y Bien” (Peace and well-being) in large German style letters. On the left, a painting of Saint Francis of Asissi welcoming the animals and on the right a painting of Jesus hanging on a Byzyntine style cross. Just to the right of Jesus´ feet is a scroll with the words, “Francisco: Anda y repara mi iglesa” (Francis, I want you to come and repair my church).

A man pulling a bicycle cart loaded with grass and hay for animals passes in front of the church. A woman in traditional quechua clothing sits in the shade of her cart of the corner of the church square. She sells candy and cookies and drinks to the few who stop. Three yoiung men wearing the maroon sweater and blue slacks of a local school pass through the park on their way home for lunch. A business man in a suit and talking on a cell phone sits on the bench near me in the gazebo where I am. A man barely opening his mouth when speaking to me shows his identification and invites me to buy a few hard candies for a sol (about 30 cents) as a way to support a drug and alcohol program in Lima. A man takes a picture of his young son who is holidng a pink stuffed animal. A group of school girls in blue uniforms and braided hair sit in the sun near the non-functioning fountain.

In the raised garden, the words “Beinvenido a Huancayo” (Welcome to Huancayo) are carved deeply in the dirt so that grass and weeds will not grow to hide the greeting.

It was very hard to leave Costa Rica. Over the past year, we had made a number of great friends, many of whom we know we will not see again on this side of heaven. As the plane lifted off from the airport in San José, we watched out the windows as the green fields and mountains became smaller and smaller. Because of the size of the country, we had not even reached cruising altitude when we found ourselves over the Pacific Ocean. A little more than three hours later, with the majestic Andes Mountains rising above the clouds in the distance, we saw the brown and grey costal deserts of our new home country. We had arrived in the capitol city of Lima.

Billy, Laurie and Sarah Drum, members of our team whom we met when we were applying to become missionaries with The Mission Society, met us at the airport. (The rest of the team, the Ivey family, would meet us in Huancayo.) Following a day errands, contracts, and record checks for our work visas, we took the seven hour bus ride from Lima to Huancayo. The ride starts just a few feet above sea level, and as the desert and the city fell behind us, the mountains rose dramatically in front. Three hours or so later, we were catching our breath as we crossed the continental divide at more than three miles elevation (three times as high as Denver, Colorado). A little further along we passed through the sixth most polluted city in the world, La Oroya, where 95% of the children have elevated levels of lead poisoning due to copper (and other mineral) mining in the area. Two hours later, we entered our new hometown.

A mixture of adobe, concrete and steel, this city of around 500,000 people stood in stark contrast to the city in which we´d lived the past year. It is a city of cultural diversity in which women in traditional clothing eat ice cream cones and talk on cell phones on the city square in front of the Spanish Cathedral. A modern mall has appeared since our first visit, and it may have one of the only food courts in the world where a person can buy cow heart on a stick for dinner. Right next to the mall is the traditional market where one can buy anything from charcoal with which to build a fire to plants to plucked chickens hanging by their feet to fresh (or not so fresh) alpaca meat.

We´re here. We have a lot to learn, no doubt about it, but we made it. Thanks to all of you for all you have done to get us to this point.

¡Qué Dios los bendiga! May God bless you!

Just a quick note to let you know we made it to Peru. The flight was easy and the food and movie were really good. We are in a hotel right now in a suburb of Lima. Tomorrow morning we will be heading to start our visa process with finger prints and dental records…

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers.

Kia, Aylis´, and Ash (yeah, even me) learned how to do some traditional Costa Rican Dances. These videos are from when we danced at a culture day for the school. The following night we danced in the street outside the school for the local neighborhood. The girls are in first video. They are the two tallest with the blue dresses (dresses that my mom made while visiting here a few weeks ago). This dance is called “Que linda Tica” or “Pretty Costa Rican girls.” The girls got some complements from some ticas who said they were wondering who´s children they were becuase “they move like Ticas!”

I´m the guy who is saying something at the start of this dance. What is happening is that the men and the women are flirting with one another. These poems that we are shouting are called “bombas” and are fun flirts with the other (or taunts of mother-in-laws). Mine was “Qué bonita esta la luna, con su cielo azul-celeste. Me he de casar contigo, aunque la vida me cueste”. Literally, it means “How beautiful is the moon with it´s blue colored sky. I will marry you, even if it costs me my life!” Her response is that her mama doesn´t want her to get married and that she doesn´t want to marry me either… All the men in the video are students. Three of the women are teachers at the language school and one is a student (and she is very pregnant, as well).

This final dance that we were all in is about a bull fight. Near the end, I become a horse and the matador on my back ropes the bull and we pull him off the dance floor. During the victory celebration, the bull escapes and gores the matador. ¡Qué triste!