Salinas Huito is a small town on the edge of a high-altitude salt lake, named Laguna de Salinas, or the 'lake of salt'.  We have similar kinds of lakes in Australia, which like Laguna de Salinas are dry for most of the year, but when the rains arrive life just teems.  Unlike salt lakes in Australia, though, the altitude of Laguna de Salinas is about 4,300 metres, which means oxygen levels are getting down to about 1/2 those of sea level -- so that takes some getting used to.  On top of that, the nights are often below zero, even in summer.

Above:  Wary vicuña resting on the lake shore, Laguna de Salinas.

Last weekend (22-23 April, 2023) I drove with Peruvian pastor mate Edgar to Salinas Huito for an ETE (Educación Teológica por Extensión) gathering.  Students from Salinas Huito and Salinas Moche (the town on the other side of the lake), as well as a few from further afield, got together to organise their studies for the next semester.

On the Sunday morning I was invited to preach (typically I know nothing of these plans until I turn up; it's all organised in a 'seat of the pants' kind of style).  In many ways I would rather hear our Quechua brothers teach from the Scriptures, but (i) they insist, (ii) I need to learn to relate to them, and (iii) I should model what we're trying to teach and get across.  So on these occasions I cave in and inflict my basic (but improving) Spanish upon them.  It's not like Spanish is their preferred language, anyway (they much prefer to chat with each other in Quechua), but that's our only common language, so Spanish it is.

I spoke from Revelation 7; "That sounds a bit ambitious," you say.  But (i) it's a great passage about God's age-old purpose of having a chosen people from every tongue, nation, tribe, people and language (v.9) who declare the glory of the One who has redeemed them, and (ii) it helps our Quechua brothers and sisters see how passages which are normally clouded with hocus-pocus interpretations are, in fact, clear declarations of what it means to live as God's people in a world which stands against them.

"Not many in that church service," I hear you think.  You're right; that was because the local authorities had called a community meeting for Sunday morning, and they issue fines to anyone who doesn't attend!  While I can't comment for sure on this instance, it has to be said that this is how Christians in these remote communities are often treated; things are often quite deliberately stacked against them.

We've just got through a very good wet season (normally Dec--Mar.) here in Peru, and so there has been plenty of water finding its way into Laguna de Salinas.  This, in turn, means there is plenty of wildlife on the water: flamingos, geese, and ducks in abundance.

Above:  The green pasture of Laguna de Salinas, with the active volcano Ubinas in the distance.  For years it's been throwing up a column of ash and shaking the land with its rumblings, but for the moment it's gone quiet.  Who knows how long that will last?

Below:  A pair of geese with this year's offspring, heading off to the water before the bloke with the camera got any closer.

With summer and autumn being the wet season here, it's also the warmer weather.  Still below zero at night, and plenty of frost on the cars in the morning.  When I muttered something about the cold to one of our Quechua sisters, she said, "Hah!  You should have been here last July!"  Um, no thanks; it was cold enough sleeping fully clothed, with beanie and gloves, and two thick blankets over my sleeping bag.

Below:  A peak to the north of the lake, with permanent ice stuck to its sides.

Edgar himself was so glad to be able to come along on the trip.  Pastoring a church in Arequipa, but originally from a rural community outside Cusco, he really enjoyed the opportunity to mix again with Quechua believers.

Below:  ETE director René (left), Daniel (Presbyterian missionary from Korea, center), and Edgar (right), organising something or other.

Above:  Evening light across the lake.  For me, it was a strange thing to consider that at the lakeside were were above the clouds, but still had peaks higher than us.  In the distance are the peaks known as Picchu Picchu, rising to about 5,600m, with Arequipa over the other side, about 3,300m below.  Everything was cold, beautiful, and silent.

Sunday after lunch we wound our way back to Arequipa -- a 3-hour trip which takes you down from 4,300m to 2,300m.  It really is a 'vertical' landscape.

We had the usual load of folks to drop off at their farms on the way home, which took us on some less-used tracks around the lake (below).  Edgar got home about as tired as I did, but already asking when the next trip might be, and could he come along?  Well, of course he can!

Have you ever heard of Cota Cota?  That's OK, most Peruvians haven't either.  It's out the back of Tisco, which is out the back of Chivay, which is out the back of Arequipa.  A population of only a few hundred.  Cold, remote, and at about 4400 metres it's double the altitude of Arequipa, and so unless you're a local you'll find it easy to run out of puff.

On the upside, it takes about 5 hours' drive through the usual breathtaking Andean scenery to get there.  And it was where IBSA (one of Arequipa's three theological colleges) ran a week of classes and presented certificates to about 18 students from the area.  So it was that last Tuesday and Wednesday Ben (SIM colleague), Jimmy (Peruvian pastor mate here in Arequipa) and myself lobbed into town.

Below: main plaza in Cota Cota.

While we don't have any direct role in this program (yet?), it's a great chance to meet the students, have conversations with them, get a feel for what the needs and opportunities might be, and grow in our appreciation of chuños (potatos which are freeze-dried in the soil during winter) and alpaca soup!

Below: Mike and Ben chewing on some roast lamb while discussing the Trinity (no, really) with some of the faculty and students.  Caption competition for this photo is now open.

The Wednesday night was the graduation service.  For me, a 1.5 hour-long service is fine; but to be honest, four hours is another matter.  There were lots of speeches, and long lists of people to thank.  At first I found myself muttering under my breath that it was going on way too long.  But in a culture which puts a far greater premium on honour than we Australians do, thanking everyone is very important.  Add to that the fact that this was the once-in-a-year chance for the students to get together, receive their certificates, and celebrate their hard work... well, seen from that angle maybe four hours wasn't that unreasonable.  Just about everyone had something to say and plenty of people to thank.  It's the way they do things around here, and if the outsider can find 5 minutes to stop muttering and belt up and listen, he or she just might learn something ;-)

Below: the 18th speech (estimate only) for the evening, this time from the local alcalde (town mayor).

Above: the students with their hard-earned certificates.

At about midnight we finally got to hit the hay.  Ben and Jimmy were fine, but I copped a bout of soroche (altitude sickness) and ended up getting very little sleep.  This is the way it is with soroche; some trips you're fine, other trips you're not.  There are all sorts of medications available, but I haven't had much joy with any of them.  I find that my own little concoction of aspirin and caffeine pills deals with most of it, but of course the caffeine isn't much good for sleeping.  So essentially I'm faced with a choice: either a sleepless night with a thumping headache, or a sleepless night courtesy of the caffeine.  I think I prefer the latter!

Below: being summer here it's the wet season, so the lakes are full and the pastures green.

Above: well-fed beast on the Cota Cota football field.

Thursday morning breakfast was fried trout (there are plenty farmed in the streams and rivers around the southern Andes), and then we fired up the Hilux and headed back home.  I plan to be back in Cota Cota next May, this time as part of ETE (theological extension program).  It will be good to catch up with everyone and see how they're getting along with their studies, their Christian service, and life in general.

January arrived, the month of our team conference, but after that came the opportunity to take some time off.  For us Fischers, that can only mean one thing: a road trip!

We packed up the Hilux, and in convoy with colleagues Ben and Daniela and their 4 lads, our first day's journey got us to Nazca, where we lodged for a couple of days.  Nazca, of course, is most famous for its geoglyphs -- enormous designs drawn into the desert surface centuries ago by the now vanished 'Nazca culture'.  We had seen some of these last year while on the way to pick up our daughter Jocelyn from Lima (there is a high viewing tower outside Nazca), so instead Kerry, Megan and I trooped about 20 kms out of town to see a partially-excavated ancient cemetery.

The dead were buried wrapped up in a bundle, and seated upright.  As you can see, the person in the photo above had an impressive set of dreadlocks, all preserved in the arid desert climate.

From Nazca we drove up to the 'Kawai' campsite, about 1 hour south of Lima, where we had our annual SIM conference/ retreat for about 5 days.  This gave us the chance to catch up with the rest of the SIM team from other parts of Peru, and this year's speaker encouraged us from Psalm 119 with some great insights into the chapter.

Ben and tribe headed back south to Arequipa, while we Fischers pointed the Hilux north towards Cajamarca, via the coastal city of Trujillo.  North of Lima there is the 'Fortress of Paramonga', another pre-Inca site.  We climbed to the top and took in the lush countryside of the surrounding river plain.

We stayed in Trujillo for a couple of days, and (of course) visited yet another pre-Inca site.  There are many old mud brick pyramids dotted along the coast and in the river valleys.  This one is called 'El Brujo' (translated, 'the wizard').  Because most of these pyramids went through stages of development over the centuries of their use, excavations have been able to reveal the superbly well-preserved ealier pyramids still inside the weathered outer structure.

Like many of these 'pyramid cultures' of the Americas (e.g. the Aztecs of Mexico), human sacrifice (typically of captured enemy warriors, it seems) was practiced.  In the picture above you can see the main figure holding the head of a decapitated victim.  On a nearby part of the 'El Brujo' site, burial pits containing the bones of hundreds of sacrifical victims have been excavated.

Trujillo is also well-known for its surfing culture -- but using traditional 'boards' made out of bundles of reeds:

After Trujillo it was on to Cajamarca -- a most significant city in the history of Peru.  It was here, in a terrifying and bold move, that the conquistador Francisco Pizarro captured the Inca emperor Atahualpa.  Now being held hostage, and realising that the Spaniards were particularly interested in gold, Atahualpa offered to fill a room with gold to buy his freedom.  This was duly done, but by then the Spaniards were convinced (so they said) that Atahualpa had been plotting against them, and so they then executed him on the charge of treason.

The room in which Atahualpa was held prisoner survives to this day, close to the centre of the city:

Some other photos from around Cajamarca during our stay there:

After Cajamarca we headed south to visit the national park of Huascarán -- the highest mountain in Peru.  We wound our way through stunning mountain scenery and beautiful little villages, driving along tortuous roads with innumberable hairpin bends -- some so tight that a 3-point turn was needed.  After a long day's drive we were only about 1 hour short of Tauca, our stop for the night before reaching Huascarán, when we were confronted with this:

This landslide wasn't going to be cleared overnight, so with only about a week left of our time off, Mike had to pull off a 15-point turn (estimate only) and we pointed the Hilux back the way we had come.  Maybe we'll get to see Huascarán another time ;-)  This turned out to be the first forced change of route for the trip -- but all it did was reveal yet more wonders of this spectacular country:

Old Inca terraces in the morning sun:

Video footage of driving Andean roads:

Then we turned south and started heading back home to Arequipa.  We went to pass through Ica (on the way to Nazca) but the protesters there had barricaded the highway, so we had to take our second forced detour: through the desert of the Paracas national park.  Once again the Hilux (by now nicknamed 'Burrito', or 'little donkey') acquitted itself magnificently, coping with the sandy tracks across the dunes and taking us through the breathtaking desert valleys.  We even saw flamingos in the saltwater lagoons along the ocean's edge!

We managed to slip around to the south of Ica and then it was on to Nazca, our last stop before home.  Because of all the protests and blockades which have been going on for weeks and weeks now, it was impossible to find diesel in Nazca.  So we decided to keep on heading south, in the hope that we'd find a more remote grifo (service station) with some diesel to spare.  On we drove, watching the fuel gauge needle dropping lower and lower, until it was at about 1/8... at which point we were seriously considering just stopping in the next coastal town and camping on the beach.

But then at a town called Tupac Amaru (named after another Inca emperor) we found this grifo receiving a fresh load of fuel:

Well that was a relief!  So, with landslides, blockades and fuel shortages behind us, it was on to Camana, the last coastal town before heading inland to Arequipa.  Just one snag: the blockade in Camana had not been removed, as we'd been led to believe.  So we spent a tense 30 minutes or so waiting with unbelievably long columns of trucks, to see if the police could get things open again.  Thankfully they did!  The police in Peru generally have a bad public reputation, but at times like this everyone is grateful for how skilfully they handle these worked-up protesters.

So we got back home with a filthy Hilux and a much greater understanding and appreciation of Peru: its history, its geography, its people, its needs.  And Megan was thrilled to see the cats Princesa and Ozzy again.

Now we turn our minds again to helping meet the training needs of pastors here.