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| Camp in Moyobamba |
I brought a green sweater with me to Peru. I bought it last year from the Target in Fairfield, New Jersey, close to where I live. I really like this sweater, partly because it is comfortable, and partly because it is bright green. Bright colors make me happy:) My green sweater has travelled with me to many places, and I’m sure could tell some stories of its own. It is one of only five chosen sweaters that I have in Peru - my challenge to live simply and in solidarity with the community in San Juan. So it has gotten a lot of use in these past three months.
A lot of people on my team laughed with me when I told them that I brought most of my sweaters (including the green one) with me to Moyobamba last week. You see, Moyobamba is a city up in the north of Peru that is in the jungle region. In my subconscious, I knew that being in the jungle meant that it was going to be hot...really hot. But, since I totally underestimated the degree of cold in Lima during these winter months, I decided I wasn’t taking any chances on being cold in the jungle. So into my bag went my green sweater, along with pretty much every other sweater that I have with me. One hour later, I arrived in the airport to sweltering, almost unbearable heat and immediately thought, “I can’t believe I packed all of those sweaters. I’m never going to use them here.”
Little did I know that God had perfect plans for all of my sweaters, especially my green one. Our team from Peace and Hope was in Moyobamba to run a leadership camp for young adults from different evangelical churches in the region. The youth began to arrive on Tuesday afternoon, a bright sunny day. That day, I met Magaly, a thirteen-year-old girl from a town called La Florida about an hour away from Moyobamba. I first saw Magaly when she arrived and registered for camp. I was the “tour guide” during registration. My responsibility was to show people where they could find their rooms, the bathrooms, and the dining room. (Do you find it funny that the tour guide for a camp in the Peruvian jungle was a gringa from New Jersey? I did…) When I first saw Magaly, I was drawn to her. For some reason, I had the feeling that I needed to get to know this girl. There was some strong force pulling me towards her that first day. I think about it now, and truly believe it was the Holy Spirit talking to me. Coincidentally (or not!), Magaly was one of six young adults in my small group that would be meeting all week long together. She wound up being a significant part of my experience at the camp.
That first night at camp, it rained. Glorious buckets of rain! Have you ever smelled the earth when rain first falls? It is so clean and wonderful. In Lima, it doesn’t rain. It just mists a bit, but actually raindrops do not fall. So strong, pounding rain was a great gift for me. With the rain came some cooler weather. It wasn’t cold by any means, but it took an edge off of the tremendous heat. The reprieve from the heat was great for me, but not so much for the youth. Most of them come from very hot climates, so they were suffering with even the little bit of cool air that the rain brought. Magaly arrived one night to our small group shivering. It was then that I remembered the bag full of sweaters that I never thought I was going to use. Thank you, Lord! I ran to my room, pulled out the green sweater and handed it to its new temporary owner. She was hesitant to actually put it on until I made her. I proceeded to give out the rest of my sweaters over the next day to other girls who were also suffering from the cold. Thank you, Lord for little gifts like that to pass on to others.
The next day, I sat looking at Magaly in my green sweater during our opening activities. She didn’t look so well. It turns out she had a fever, which is not that uncommon in Peru. She took an aspirin and it seemed to go away. But the following morning, I noticed that she looked worse. I pulled her aside at one point and when my hand touched her skin, it was burning up. Her fever was back full-force. When I asked her what was going on, she began to cry. Her head hurt, her throat hurt. She went back and forth between shivering cold and being extremely hot. We decided to take her to a doctor as soon as possible. Magaly didn’t want to go, but she was so weak that she didn’t really have a choice. So off we went to town.
During our four hour plus wait in the doctor’s office, I began to ask her questions about what she was feeling. She showed me a small blister that had popped up on her skin in the shower that morning. Then she showed me a couple of more. I knew immediately…chicken pox. Sure enough, Magaly had varicela, chicken pox. But, during her exam, we also found out that she was suffering from the side effects of a couple of different parasites, also not uncommon from the unclean water in the jungle. Magaly had been pretty sick for a few months. Because of the fever, we were able to get her to a doctor and get medicine. Where she lives, there is little access to doctors and probably not that many resources to buy medicine. So, thank you Lord for the chicken pox.
From that point on, I was attached to Magaly. Her story, her life, her spirit became part of mine over that week. Hopefully my story became part of hers, kind of like my green sweater that she wore around all week long. At the end of camp, Magaly tried to give me back my green sweater. I put it in a bag and gave it to her, a memory of her week and of me. (I also have to be honest and admit that I did not want to bring the sweater on the plane in case it would spread the chicken pox to other people.) I don’t know if she will ever have cause to use the sweater in the hot climate where she is from. But I find myself looking at pictures of her in my green sweater. I find myself wondering if she finished taking her medicine. Is she feeling better? Is there more that I could have done for her? Is there more that I could have said? What did I miss? Will I ever see her again?
Magaly is just one of many youth that I met in Moyobamba whose stories became part of mine. As I think of them, I feel caught between a feeling of overwhelming love for these amazing young adults, and a sense of hopelessness when confronted with some of their realities. They are youth who have dreams of studying in college and pursuing careers, when the reality is that there are very few options for further education and a lack of available jobs. Some are youth who come from broken family situations and parents who are younger than I am. Many lack basic education in health and sexuality, as well as access to medical resources. What do I do with all of this? In a week, all I could do was love them, hug them, encourage them, and be with them…whether it was laughing or crying. So that is what I did and it was a blessing for them and for me. But, in the back of my mind I have a nagging thought that there is no reason that these precious young adults should not have all the opportunity in the world to pursue their dreams and their desires. So my hope and my prayer is that the world would begin to change so all children and youth can have hope and faith to follow their dreams.
This week, please keep in your thoughts and your prayers some of these young adults: Cristian, Berta, Julio, Magaly, Jhecy, Joel, Deborah, Limna, Juan. Pray that their dreams would never die. That they would have faith and hope that overcome the hardness of reality. That God would send people into their lives to hug them, love them and encourage them along the way. That the church, people of faith and these precious youth would become instruments of transformation and change in our world.
