Email: Sean Kerr

Greetings from the Peruvian “Altiplano,”

Two months into my experience in Peru, I imagine I've eaten about 400 potatoes, and an average of two plates of white rice per day. And I can't forget about “chicha morada,” a fermented beverage made from corn. But the difference in diet only demonstrates one of many differences that I'm still adapting to being here in Huancayo.

One memory that certainly will never leave me began when I took my first steps at high altitude. Soroche, the name given to altitude sickness here in Peru, affects some harshly and others not at all. For me, it seemed like torture. My heart was beating two or three times faster than normal. I was nauseous, had stomach problems, and a terrible headache. Not exactly the romantic beginning to my time in Peru of which I had dreamed. However, the battle with soroche forced me to accept help from my new friends and family. People changed their cooking plans to prepare light meals, and gently suggested that I drink copious amounts of “mate de coca.” Fellow co-workers at CEDEPAS (the Ecumenical Center for Promotion and Action Social, where I have been placed), took me to the right doctors and went out of their way to find out what remedies were necessary. It was an encounter with grace and hospitality that created an immediate network of support.

Here at CEDEPAS, my primary responsibility involves working with young Protestant leaders to train and encourage them to be politically active and follow their call to justice and service. Here, they don’t use the word “Protestant.” They say “Cristiano” or “Evangelico” to name non-Roman Catholic Christians. While my job this sounds pretty on paper, it's not so easy to execute. For one, youth are typically swamped with college studies or side jobs, and can't find the time come to meetings or events on the weekends. Another major issue arises from the difficulties of working ecumenically for human rights, environmental justice, or other “justice” issues.

Evangelico pastors in Peru often feel pushed by young church workers to move in an alternative direction, to shift the focus from insularity to ecumenism. Youth challenge power structures and live out their values in radical ways. Some here call this, “liberal theology,”which can be positive or negative, depending on one's point of view. Many of the pastors and members of the Mesa Evangelica Juvenil(MEJ or Evangelical Youth Round Table), the name of the youth group with which I work, feel threatened by young church leaders challenging the very foundation on which they preach.

My friend and colleague here at CEDEPAS tells me that many Evangelical churches in Peru have a history of insularity and paternalism (much of which was inherited from missionary movements) which has not yet been firmly shaken. So, when a young leader who has been told what to believe, what rules to follow, and with whom he or she should associate, decides to join with other youth from different denominations, pastors often put themselves on edge. Is she going to turn into a Baptist? What kinds of things are they going to scheme together? Can these people from other denominations be trusted? Often the pastors with these concerns are the ones who keep their young members from participating in CEDEPAS- or MEJ-run events. Of course, not all pastors think this way. Some aren't sure what to think of these creative, strong-willed leaders. Other pastors think they're great, and affirm the ecumenical spirit. This is both an exciting and challenging new phase of the church in Peru in which young and old are combining their efforts to redefine what it means to follow Jesus. For the young, it will require courage; for older generations, it will require humility and trust. For all, it will require grace.

Living in the midst of this reality within the Evangelical Peruvian Church challenges me to maintain an open and non-judgmental mind, even if the logic doesn't make sense to me. Undoubtedly, not everything will make sense, even after spending a year here. However, I do see this as an opportunity to understand the context in which the Peruvian church functions, such as how pastors hold the notion that rebellions have often been violent and destructive in Peru and therefore fear what another rebellion might bring. Or how insularity exists because of real events in Peruvian history that sparked distrust. These issues are not real to me, coming from United States, because I have not lived this experience. With humility, I plan search for a deeper understanding of things that many would shove aside and call illogical. And I'm sure I'll find both hope and frustration. I'm confident that this attitude will help me not just to understand the religious context, but it will also help to deal with cultural clashes, or simply in situations that I don't understand inside and outside of Peru.

I write about this “issue” of adjusting to a new reality within the church because it is something that I'm experiencing and challenged by regularly. But this is just the “tip of the iceberg” when it comes to depicting my life here in Peru. Not all of the “issues” are negative. In fact, I'm frequently moved by Andean customs, which are already changing who I am and what I believe.

Some examples

• The ancient Incan labor practice of ayni, which says, “Today I'll help you; tomorrow you help me,” lived out with regularity.
• A refreshing work environment that is serious enough to get projects done, but amiable enough to allow for spontaneous conversation and convivencia.
• Living in a land where people joke, with some seriousness, that, “The Peruvian wakes up and makes her plan for the day,” (quite the aberration from an American society that is diligent about planning “the next step” way in advance).
• I hope these things will never get old, and I thank God daily for allowing me to live this life in Huancayo.

Check out my blog. There are pictures, videos, and more up-to-date stories. Thanks for reading, and please continue to pray for all of the Young Adult Volunteers in Peru and around the world.

Blessings,

Sean