Peruvian River Rafting: At least half of us know how to swim, right?

Folks, I know I start every blog saying something to the extent of “time is flying”, and end each post with “we have so little time left." So—let’s just talk cold hard numbers, shall we? We have 17 days left in Peru. We have 31 days until we arrive in the United States. We have 50 days left as World Service Corps Volunteers. *Are you diggin’ my chili folks?

The river at Lunahuana. Not bad scenery, huh? 

With that said—let’s recap.

After all of the excitement in Paracas, Ica and Nazca, then a busy weekend of church activities, Katrina and I took a little time to relax on Monday. Tuesday, Rebecca, Zach and Karlee flew back to Lima after their trip to Cusco and we had dinner at the Peruvian fast food chain called Bembos to catch up. Rebecca and Zach flew out early Wednesday (Zach a little defeated by Montezuma’s revenge, or as we have dubbed the Peruvian version, Pachamama’s revenge) and we spent the rest day bumming around with Karlee before her red-eye flight back to the United States.

The highlight of the day was when we took Karlee souvenir shopping and experienced a decent-sized earthquake. The Peruvians running the souvenir stalls jumped to their feet, one of them screaming at the top of her lungs, Katrina said, “Oh, it’s an earthquake” and Karlee and I, the only Midwesterners present (go figure), focused very intently and tried to feel something, but felt nothing. We both argued that it was just a large truck passing by, but were later proven wrong. My friends, it’s a good thing that the earthquakes here have been so small that I can’t feel them—but I remain a little disappointed that I can’t tell the difference between the earth moving under my feet and someone walking around upstairs.

Ready to tackle the river! 

We eventually got Karlee off to her flight, got some shuteye and the next morning we were off to Lunahuana. Lunahunana is a city a little more than three hours south of Lima that's known for having tame, but fun, river rafting. Wilfredo, Rocio, Jhonny, Katrina and I made it into town around midday, strapped on helmets and life jackets and headed out to the river. Since it was my first river rafting experience, I was a little nervous that I would miss some instructions through the language barrier, but we quickly found that the river was rather calm and there wasn’t much to worry about. This was especially comforting to me because Wilfredo, Rocio and Jhonny all can’t swim and I’m fairly certain I was more worried about their safety than they were.

After rafting we grabbed lunch at a local restaurant then headed out to a relaxed city tour where we visited a winery, a pretty area near the river where Rocio did a little horseback riding and then we topped things off with a tour of a “haunted” house. Peruvians love their ghost stories, and usually I love them too, but there was something about the spray paint penises graffitied all over the house that took the spooky factor away for me (although Rocio and Wilfredo still claim they felt a “presence” on the roof.) Eventually it was time to head home, so we all bought some “tejas” (chocolates with caramel and assorted goodies inside) and headed home.

A shot from the go-cam on our raft! 

Friday it was back to business as usual, and we headed to Monte Sion for English class and bible study. This time around it was Wilfredo’s turn to teach, so Katrina and I caught a break and got to simply enjoy participating in class. Saturday I was up to the plate and presided. We had a brief phase in Monte Sion where the congregation’s attendance was desperately low, and I’m happy to say that it’s starting to perk up again. It’s unfortunate that I have no idea why people weren’t coming before but are coming now—but hey, let’s just take what we can get.

Sunday was Katrina’s last turn preaching in Peru, and she was a bit emotional when she took the pulpit. Her sermon went well and it was odd to realize that neither Katrina nor I will ever preach in Peru again (at least not anytime soon.) We’re still on the leadership schedule for a few more things, teaching kids classes, bible study, presiding, etc. but we’ve begun the series of “lasts.” Last sermon. Last time eating guinea pig. Last communion. (I don’t know why those three things go together.)

I was sitting near the river when these guys came for a drink!

It all makes me think of the first time we left Huánuco, when we didn’t know if we’d be going back again and how Katrina and I blubbered in the car for the first 15 minutes of the ride home. I’m now imagining us getting on the plane from Peru to Honduras, fresh from all of our goodbyes, just blubbering, snotty, choking disasters. Heaven help the people who have to sit next to us.

Yet all of that is still 17 days away. In the meantime, we have a trip planned for tomorrow to visit the hot water springs in Churin and we’re celebrating Father’s Day this weekend with both congregations. With that said—I should probably pack my bags for tomorrow, I’ve got some (natural) hot tubbin’ to do! Until next time.

*This phrase is copyrighted to the one and only Rebecca Bullock.