Strength in Weakness at Hotel Huanuco.

We left for the city of Huanuco on Tuesday night at 10:30. It was about a 10 hour bus ride. Now, this double decker bus we took was designed for sleeping. The trouble, I found, was the curvy mountain roads. The rocking was not soothing. The movie "One night with the King" was not soothing either. Both had an adverse affect on my stomach. But discomfort was the only deterrent from sleep. I think I woke up at about 6 in the morning. It was just getting light. I was staring out the bus window which is one my favorite things to do. We would pass through small mountain villages every so often. The thoughts that passed through my groggy, semi-conscious mind, were something like, "How long have these people lived here." "How much do they know of the outside world?" "How content are these people?" "How many buses go on the street every day?" "What are the biggest problems these people face?". My questions went unanswered. 

We got to Huanuco Wednesday morning. We all had the feeling that it was maybe mid-afternoon by 7:30 that morning. It's a strange experience that I've had more than once. With in  5 minutes of being in the fresh morning air of Huanuco I had my first three bug bites, a telling sign of the days to come. Our hostel was only a few blocks away so we formed a seemingly inconspicuous line of 40 people with bags and marched to the place. Upon arrival the hostel was beautiful. It had many hallways and all tile floors, and in turn was very slippery(perfect for high speed foot races). The classic decor of the place reminded me of my grandmothers house. The walls were adorned with posters of special tourist attractions and holiday celebrations. I found this odd because Huanuco was not at all pleasant for me. Not only did the hostel look classic, but its accommodations we quite classic as well. Hot water was not always available, but that was not a major issue. The shower heads seemed to spray in every direction except yours. I am fairly confident that the majority of americans would have trouble fitting into the bathrooms to begin with, considering the doors were perhaps half the width. The hostel provided all our meals, which were meager at best (except for lunch of course). To give you a better idea, we ate all of our breakfasts and dinners on tea saucers. There was however an abundant supply of small rolls. 

The streets of Huanuco were untrustworthy. The roads were dirty. The building were poor. Casinos plagued the town. I don't know why I felt so strongly about the town, but I did. It bothered me to be there. I don't think it was just the city either. I think I felt that our group together was obnoxious. Mostly in the hostel, we were just loud and it didn't seem to phase anyone. I guess I thought it would be different. 

(now for the positive)

We went to Huanuco with out many set plans. The local pastor just told us to be prepared with some skits, songs, and a 3 day vbs type program. So that's what we did. We had opportunities to go to local parks at night and witness to people. We performed some of our dramas, sang some songs, and just talked to the people and answered any questions they had. We did this three different nights and we got to talk to so many people about God and Christianity. We put on a 3 vbs in another local park. Through this we got to share the gospel with many people. All this time we were inviting people to the local church there. A group went into some elementary schools in the mornings and performed children's dramas. There was also a movie showed at the church on Saturday night that shared the gospel. The beauty of this trip was that we were not expecting miracles or huge revivals, we were simply obedient. We preached the gospel. We'll never know exactly what happened in Huanuco. 

I think what I liked most is that it wasn't fun. It wasn't glamourous. There were so many bugs and every time we went out we would get more and more bites. I didn't bring enough clothes so I ended up wearing dirty clothes most of the time. The food was less than satisfactory. The city was dirty (in the midst of all this, I realized that this is how the majority of the world lives, the american standard of living is rare, it was then when I realized how blessed I truly was) 

The people needed to know the truth. We told them. Some got it, others didn't. 

I was happy to return to Lima. I think we often say we understand what poverty is and how awful it is, but I doubt most knows what it actually feels like. I think I got a mild taste. It's uncomfortable. Something very foreign to us. 

I know God is good.