Bon Appetite!

It seems like so much of culture is tied to food. Since we've gotten here everyone keeps asking us, "have you tried ceviche?" We kept saying no, mostly because we were warned to wait until our stomaches were a bit stronger until we tried it. Ceviche is raw, well sort of raw, fish. It's "cooked" by the acid of lime juice. Last week was the first time all of the girls tried this dish, Dave tried it one time at the beach with some friends. We purposefully found a clean restaurant and gave it a shot. I put a piece on my plate and I had such a huge mental block... I don't eat fish, much less raw fish. My team kept encouraging me but I just needed a moment to think it through. Roxy and I shared a small bite since neither of us were too sure that this would turn out to be an enjoyable experience. We counted to three and stuck the forks in out mouthes, chewed, and swallowed. I'm glad that I tried it but there is definitely something to be said for the texture of raw fish... excuse me, fish cooked by citrus acid.

But there are quite a few "national" foods and drinks and they all seem to come in large portions. Arroz con pollo, ceviche, papas a la huancaina, Inca Kola, Pisco Sours... and the list goes on. People are so proud to feed you the food of their nation. This has really made us all think: what foods are we proud of? What do we prepare when international guests come to visit? We all got stuck on that. When we get homesick we go out for things like pizza and hamburgers but those are just things that we eat at home and not foods from our home. North America is such a conglomeration of ethnicities that we don't have a "national dish". Even when we think of what we cook at home... lasagna is Italian, tacos are Mexican, and chicken is pretty universal. Food is such a big part of culture, even if North America, eating is a social event but we just don't have a national food.

I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet...

Question: What is the quickest way to get five North Americans out of bed in Peru?

Answer: An earthquake.

Saturday morning at ten minutes before 8 we were all rattled out of bed. This was the first earthquake that most of us have felt so we were all a bit startled… especially because that’s what woke us up. There was a low rumbling and our beds were shaking as all five of us are reaching to find our glasses so we can see what is going on. It wasn’t too bad but it was enough to rattle the pots in the kitchen, make the animals go crazy, and get us girls out of bed in record time. When we were trying to figure out what to do, one suggestion was “stand in the doorway”. Now it’s good that we listened to earthquake safety in elementary school but with five girls and one doorway, it just wasn’t going to work. By the time that we fully comprehended what was going on the earthquake had stopped but we still ran into the hallway calling for Jackie, she is the lady on pastoral staff who’s room is right across from ours. She had just gotten out of the shower and was in her towel but she explained to five spooked North American girls that this wasn't bad. She explained that when things shake side to side (like they did) doesn't really cause much, if any damage but it's when it's a rolling earthquake (like last August, up North) is when things get scary.

After all this had happened I couldn’t help but think about Acts 4:25-31, which has been my prayer for this church, lately. We have neighbors who aren’t thrilled that there is a church below them and they are trying to force the church to move. We don’t know what is going to happen yet but in Acts, after Peter and John were released, the believers came together in a time of prayer asking God to consider the threats that were against the early church and bring healing. The passage ends by saying, “After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.”