Sunday, March 25, 2007

over hill and dale

I have just come back from another epic journey with my two cousins Alban and Ansley, along with their friend of the summer past, Aaron. Covering vast tracks of land by bus we went from Lima to Trujillo, onwards to Chiclayo, from thence to Pedro Ruiz, Chachapoyas, Tarapoto, and finally back to Pucallpa. The most notable thing about the trip was the incredible amount of bussing. I think Ansley and I logged almost 100 hours. I have covered the bus experience in a previous blog, so I leave readers to imagine, and not underestimate that number. Pictures will come later.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Screwtape


I am in the midst of C.S. Lewis' brilliant work, "The Screwtape Letters". The book is a collection of letters writen by senior tempter "Screwtape", to his devilish young nephew, "Wormwood".
Lewis uses an inverted perspective to enunciate truths which he states in a more traditional and elaborated form in his famous work "Mere Christianity". In one of his diabolical epistles, Uncle Screwtape, in attempting to analyze "The Enemy" (keep in mind who is talking) voices general bewilderment when he states that "after all, he (God), really loves the nasty creatures, and desires to form a disgusting union wherein he becomes one with them, while simultaneously wishing them to retain their personality". (note: I sit in an internet cafe without the book or exact quote, whatever is enclosed in quotation marks is simply as close as I could come to reproducing the thought.)
The object of Screwtapes' laborious counseling is to advise Wormwood on the proper technique for tempting a young man. His counsels run the gammit, both in devilish cunning and diabolical simplicity. Each successive letter leaves me breathlessly rooting for the young man, the force, effort, and brainpower contrived to seduce him into sin seem overwhelming--- except for one thing, "The Enemy". The devils are fighting a losing battle, although not without occasional success and triumph. Their greatest fear, is that the young man will form a genuine, simple connection with God, indeed, it is my greatest hope.
It is tempting for me to use some flashy adjectives in describing this book. Among others, "Breathtaking", "Brilliant", "Stunning", "Thought-Provoking", and "Stimulating" could apply. However, I have neither the inclination nor the academic weight (say --- the New Yorker) to provide such a recommendation. Rather, my best comment will be: Read It.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Adan Peña

My world in Peru is constantly changing, but retains enough similarities as to remind me of where I am, who I know, and what I remember. Of the many I have come to know, Adan Peña stands in my mind at the forefront of peruvian mannerism, peculiarity, and sheer....... well, let me describe him.

The first time I heard of the man, and the events surrounding his arrival, was shortly after church on one sabbath afternoon. As a firmly entrenched Peruvian SDA tradition, I weekly participate in the exchange of greetings after church, progressing slowly down the line, kissing the cheek of an old peruvian lady, wringing the hand of some young buck, and exchanging a merry "Feliz Sabado" with a bashful peruvian niña. After the proceedings, I forsaw the imminent arrival of a wonderful Peruvian interim-grandmother (hermana olivia), and braced myself accordingly. After unfolding myself from the depths of her hug, we began to converse. My spanish is still at the level where conversation follows approximently the following course. In spanish, Hermana Olivia told me of the soon arrival of an old friend of hers from the states, who planned to direct a choir, the constituents of which were to be our church. In beautifully flowing Spanish, this took about 5 minutes, after which I responded with "Ahhhh, Si?" (vigorous head-knodding). "You will participate, I hope?" she said. "Claro que si!" I responded, not knowing quite how the lady always managed to extract such things from me.

Resultingly, the next sabbath afternoon, I was ensconsed in the pews of our little church, participating in it's first choir rehearsel, compulsively making observations. Adan Peña, the director, originally hailed from the land of Peru, but about 20 years in the past, had moved to Berrien Springs, Michigan. Apparently, he had neither the inclination nor the need to learn English in his soujourns, but had rather aquired a interesting breed of communication, which he chose to practice on us, the gringos. "You speke spanish?" he queried in a dusty voice. (I use the word dusty, because if a book could speak, a dusty books' human counterpart would almost certainly be Mr. Peña). The import of his question was immediately lost on me, as he launched off into a gerbil of mixed spanglish; just when I was beginning to understand, he would throw a new spanish word at me, which would take me over 10 seconds to realize it wasn't spanish after all, but actually english. He persisted, however, painstakingly attempting to feret out our information, which could have been done more easily if he had stuck with either language. Eventually satisfied, we continued on with our rehearsel, which consisted of Adan thunking out each part on the piano, while that part attempted replicate the strange noises and rhythyms being created by the duo.

When distracted, I turned my observatory powers on our director. An adolfian mustache worked up and down in truly virtuostic style. Whenever startled by a particularly bad rendition of the desired part, he would run a thin hand over his hair, which seemed to be even thinner. His voice worked in concert with his adams apple, which seemed to be one of the more expressive peices of his facial machinery. These qualities when described in unison don't give the desired picture though, the man I am trying to describe has a whimsical charm about him. His brilliant smile, an even more brilliant tie-pin, and the constantly waving index finger give the man an aura of mystique, which, like a dusty attic, has surprises waiting in every trunk, box, and duffle bag.

People are delightful to observe. Eccentricities, normalities, immaturities, and recall of memories, all cooperate in providing each and every person with essentially delightful mannerisms. I hope to never stop observing the things that fascinate me most: others, myself, creation, and the creator himself.