North of Lima, Where the Sun Shines

In this country of contrasts, I saw sunshine for the first time in a week, but only after having left the capital, Lima, and traveled by bus about seven hours north along the coast, to Chimbote.

This time of year the capital is in the grip of a stubborn coastal mist, known as garua, which means waking up to cloudy skies that always promise rain but almost never deliver it. We did experience light spray one evening, and everyone said it was raining, but that gave the clouds too much credit. (How can a meteorologist make an honest living in Lima?)

Chimbote, in the north, sees more sun. This is a gift not to be taken lightly, as so much else in that city points to darkness. Decades ago the city apparently was something of a maritime engine. As a result of overfishing, unplanned growth, an earthquake in 1970 and no doubt many other factors, the city languishes, without jobs to offer its people.

Three Goshen College students are doing their service work there, the reason for our visit. Two of the three are volunteers at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church, teaching English to children, among other things; the third student is working in a hospital, providing care for orphans and others. On the day we visited she was responsible for two preemies, one two months old and the other six months old; both had been abandoned and given over to the hospital, fighting for life.

In a courtyard at the parish, on the way to a breakfast of coffee and fruit and bread, one finds two plaques, in English and Spanish:

I slept and I dreamt that life was joy; I awoke and saw that life was service; I served and saw that service was joy. (R. Tagore)

Dormia y sonaba que la vida era alegria; me desperte y vi que la vida era servicio; servi y vi que el servicio era alegria.

Here the door is open for the poor and castout, as well as volunteers from the States. Volunteers at the church are welcome for however long they wish to stay, and for whatever role they wish to play, and the list of parish programs is impressive: soup kitchen, daycare, choirs, sewing class, AA, Casa de Refuge for battered women, medical clinic. We hope to place Goshen students there again in the fall semester.

Before we went to Chimbote we wondered whether the trip would go smoothly. Elsewhere in the country, especially in the south, strikes and demonstrations have blocked roadways and made travel difficult in recent weeks. Teachers and other workers rose up to protest low wages and the national government in general, whether its reform efforts or inattention. During our night in Chimbote, we read that protesters had set fires and shut down the airport in Cuzco (the jumping off point for tourists headed to Machu Picchu). But we had no trouble taking a bus north and since our return to Lima the labor tensions seem to have cooled, with teacher negotiations under way.

Even without protesters, though, our bus ride was an adventure. Since the main road north is only two lanes, one in each direction, we passed all the slower vehicles — which was just about every one going our way. On the way to Chimbote, our driver was fearless, even in the dark. He tried passing a gasoline truck as we were approaching the crest of a hill, only to have to swerve back when the lights of another vehicle bore down on us. Ouch. Next time I may watch the movies (four of them, with subtitles, impressively squeezed into our seven-hour ride).