A Peruvian Thanksgiving

Well, I think I am long overdue for a blog update! I’ve had this post about our Thanksgiving 3/4 of the way finished for about three weeks now, but we are exceptionally busy at the church right now in preparation for Christmas and also with the addition of two new cell groups and plans for a group for the youth underway. Unfortunately my blog has been pushed to the very back of my to-do list. I figured I’d start with some pictures so you can put some names with people and places and see a bit of what we’ve been up to!

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Conclusion- it was a very delectable and satisfying Peruvian Thanksgiving indeed.

Can’t have Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie.

A theatrical production to explain what Thanksgiving is all about. Clearly I am playing the part of a Native American.

Just ignore the half of the seat in this picture. This is all of us. To the left of me is Francisco, Leo, Luis, Jonas, Dora, Mark and Daniel, Anna, Sara, Lilli, Luciana, Matt, and Saraze.

A little bit of our Thanksgiving spread. At the front is Dora’s Cancha.

Jonas, Dora’s husband, bringing the wine glasses. I wish you could hear this guy talk. The Peruvian version of Ozzy Osbourne (without the whole puppy dog eating thing and other creepy fetishes).

Here is our neighbor, Dora, bringing Cancha (Salty toasted corn) to our Thanksgiving feast. Maybe I’ll ask her to show me how to make it so I can incorporate it into every Thanksgiving!

Now for the Thanksgiving pictures. This is my first Peruvian turkey. Not the prettiest I’ve ever made but certainly tasty!

This is Saraze, my dance instructor’s teacher. Her family has been so loving and welcoming to me. They are truly a blessing!

Nicole! Unfortunately you can’t make out the very innovative Pocahontas costume she has under her jacket… She is the sweetest child I have ever met.

These are Llilda’s kids- Juan Jose being the baby (I would say he is Daniel’s closest competition as far as cute Latino boys go… Daniel doesn’t seem too threatened though), Artur, and Joanna. Love them!

Me and a few girls from leadership before our non-Halloween party (note that Lilli is dressed as a butterfly). Next to me is Eli, Gianina, and Lilli.

This is Pacifico de Villa, the shanty town where we do a lot of our ministry. A picture can’t convey how vast the expanse of thousands of concrete, wood, and sometimes reed houses is. It is quite an impacting sight.

One of the cell groups I help lead in the shanty town! Beside me is Elizabet, Llilda and Juan Jose, Eli, Chirly, and Mark.

My bedroom. Don’t be fooled. It no longer looks this organized. That only lasted for about two months.

The lovely Burgess family! From right to left is Daniel, Mark, Joel, Anna, and me!

Well, a lot has happened in the two months its been since I last wrote. Spiritually and emotionally it has been hard to keep up at times, and I think about a month ago I was going through a bit of culture shock but am steadily coming out of it. I decided to write a post about my Peruvian Thanksgiving because, for me, I would say it was the light at the end of about a month long transition period (a term that we here in the Burgess house, thanks to the book Anna is writing, now have incorporated into our every day vocabulary. Basically we use it to refer to a period of time in which there seems to be a particular amount of difficulties, which could either be demonic or Godly, that precedent a breakthrough in which God’s light shines clearly over the situation.). For me the transition period was the battle against feelings of loneliness, helplessness, homesickness, boyfriendsickness, incompetence, tiredness, and overall a sense of “what the heck am I supposed to doing here?” It sounds intense like if someone was feeling those things all at one time they shouldn’t even be able to get out of bed, but really I only noticed it at first because I had become increasingly more sensitive emotionally, crying at ridiculous things like an ugly hair cut (but REALLY, it was ugly!), getting angry when people stare at me and constantly try to chat me up just because I am white, and thinking I was going to have a nervous breakdown when our internet was only working about 2 out of 24 hours for about 2 weeks (cafes with wi fi are not easy to come by where we live). Then I just felt at the end of every day like I never wanted to talk to another Peruvian again. First, I never wanted to speak Spanish again (it hurts your brain sometimes to think in another language), second, I still find many things about their culture and customs baffling, and thirdly, the problems that many of the people I am close with here are often so far from my realm of experience that I truly feel like every Bible study is a complete stretching experience at least for me and hopefully for the others as well! Nothing about our cell groups has been easy for me. But that is certainly not a bad thing. All that to say that I had been praying, “Lord, please create in me new energy, new wisdom, and a new hope for being here, and most of all, please grow me in love for the Peruvians!”

I had spent the day before our Peruvian Thanksgiving celebrating with some Americans, and I had returned a bit late to have a conversation with almost my entire family as they celebrated Thanksgiving together in the U.S. I had hoped that celebrating an American holiday with Americans would give me what I felt was a much needed retreat to get over my “boohoo I’m so alone in this culture” stage, but unfortunately, coupled with realizing I was missing out on Thanksgiving with my family, it only exacerbated any feelings of homesickness I already felt. Needless to say, when I woke up the next day tired, sad, and with the seemingly impossible task of preparing an entire Thanksgiving meal, I was wondering why in the world I thought having a second Thanksgiving where I’d be playing hostess speaking Spanish would be such a great idea. Not to mention my pants already weren’t fitting correctly from my first Thanksgiving.

As I cooked I prayed that God would give me energy that I felt I didn’t really have to love and engage and host what would be the first Thanksgiving for the two Peruvian families I had invited. I thought about how awkward it could be with two families with seemingly few similarities meeting for the first time with me playing host… in Spanish. Whew, wasn’t feeling up for that either. “Please bless our Thanksgiving tonight and bring friendship and community from our time together,” I prayed as I attempted to not give myself over to anxiety as I realized I had just used cream that had gone sour in my potatoes au gratin. 6:00 rolled around, the time when I told everyone dinner began, and around 7:00 the first family arrived (That would be right on time in Peruvian time). We were enjoying each other’s company, my food actually seemed to be turning out alright (all except for the stuffing… someone please give me a pointer), and I was beginning to relax. Around 8:00 (Now that is even considered late in Peruvian time), Dora and Jonas and their sons Leo and Luis arrived with baskets full of Cancha, salty toasted corn. So they were two hours late and I had to keep reheating the food? The smile on Dora’s face made me feel ridiculous for having silently grumbled against the whole Peruvian population’s complete indifference to time. She had clearly worked really hard and was trying to bless me for hosting her in our house, and I couldn’t help but be very grateful for her and her delicious toasted corn.

After dinner we had a small theatrical production explaining the history of the first Thanksgiving (which, by the way, Jonas knew better than I did. Embarrassing.), and afterwards we all shared what we felt thankful for that year. Well, since Thanksgiving is an American holiday, I decided to express my gratitude for being in Peru and for all the people I have met American style… brief and to the point. While what I said was heartfelt, it seemed quite cold in comparison to the 1o minute speeches gushing with gratitude from the Peruvians. Man, those Peruvians sure can give a speech. While a bit embarrassing because much of it was pointed towards me and the relationship I have developed with the two families, I took it to heart and felt blessed to know that, although I had been feeling like a fish out of water for the last month, there were at least two families here in Peru who seemed not to have noticed at all. In fact, quite the contrary, they felt I had assimilated so naturally into their lives they here they were calling me their American daughter! Well, by the end of all of their speeches, I felt so thankful for all their kind words and, especially, for the open arms that they had accepted me with during my time here in Peru, that I gave another more Peruvianesque speech that was much longer and included tearing up a bit! It marked the beginning to the end of a transition period for me, because since that day I have gradually come out of my emotional funk and have been growing in appreciation for the Peruvians and their culture and even, I think, the oddities between us that we have to work around in the relationships I have with them. How could I not feel incredibly blessed by the fact that Dora took me shopping the other day and bought me a $.50 Peruvian souvenir to show me that it was special for her to spend time with me that day? Or that Sara calls me when she makes chicharron so I can try the first batch of sandwiches? Or that Belen, although at times she can’t even afford to buy dinner, when she has money makes the entire church fresh pineapple juice after our services on Sunday? Or that Shirley, although she is easily the poorest in our church and lives with an abusive father, a drug pushing brother, and her 16 year old sister who is preoccupied with her two year old son, always comes to Bible study with the most beautiful smile on her face and sharing hard candy she bought for us at the corner shop? How could I not love a culture that is so loving, serving, caring, open, and giving in nature? How could I not love a culture that is so open and ready to receiving God and experiencing His miracles? How could I not love working with people who are so humble and completely unaware of how extraordinary they are to be growing exponentially in love and faith for God and His world, even when they seemingly have everything going against them? How could I not love a culture that takes responsibility for the needs of their neighbors, whether it be financial or otherwise? I am consistently amazed and convicted by these qualities I see amongst the friends I have made here in Peru (and even in many of the strangers).

Its funny that the Peruvian Thanksgiving we celebrated was certainly not the traditional Thanksgiving I have celebrated in the States my entire life, but it was probably a bit closer to the original. There were no relatives present, instead of a chilly Autumn breeze we had a damp, cloudy, summer day, no after-lunch family craft time, we ate Cancha instead of cranberry sauce, no football, and no English. While I had invited our neighbors thinking I wanted to show them all about my great American holiday, I think that they probably taught me a lot more about Peruvian culture than they learned about American culture that night. In the attempt to open my house to them and serve them as my neighbors and friends, I realized that they, like the famous Native Americans we celebrate during Thanksgiving, had been opening their homes, families, and lives to me while I had my head stuck in America all because of a silly haircut and some cultural differences. Like the pilgrims and Native Americans, our first Peruvian Thanksgiving celebrated two cultures that before had been strangers, and now I, the lone American pilgrim, have been lovingly accepted into Peruvian life where they have and continue to not only invite me into their lives, but continue to challenge the way that I love God, His Church, and the world. And for that, I am thankful.