Shifting to Real: Redemption in Cusco

There is something that happens at some point during a long stay in another country. The culture, people, and experiences become real.

I know that sounds a bit strange, but it is such an integral part of a crosscultural experience. There is a critical point at which one wakes up and realizes that everything happening in this new place is, after all, nothing new. It didn’t all start when you got off the plane. The small shops lining the busy streets, initially so foreign and exciting, become mere means for locals to acquire food. And these locals are different from you not because they aren’t real, but because they simply live in a different location and go about their days in a different manner. The scenery shifts, and an exotic experience returns to its elemental state: dirt, just like yours back home; food, just like yours back home; and people making their way in the world, just like your friends back home.

Desperation … and Redemption
Something that made Peru real to me, quickly, was hearing secondhand the stories of street boys at the different homes we’ve been visiting. What I failed to realize, at least initially, is that each boy’s presence at this home does not ensure that he is fully repaired, well-behaved, or triumphant over whatever problem rendered him so desperate that he had to be raised in one of these homes. When you hug one of these boys, you aren’t just hugging a cute kid. You are hugging an abused child, a fatherless son, an object used for sex, a lookout for crooks, a kid who formerly slept in drains and used old restaurant bones and sawdust to make soup for himself and his brother.

Each boy has a unique story. Most of us can’t begin to relate to them. They have problems that a cute wrestling match, soccer game, or an activities day can’t fix. It is a helpless feeling. No matter how big their smiles are after each flip I do out in the grass, they will still be haunted by their past when they pull the covers over their eyes at night. Our purpose is not to fix their problems. Our purpose is to point them to the One who can, Jesus. That is the meaning behind the name of the street child boys’ homes here. They are called Casa de Girasoles, which literally means “House of the Sunflowers.” The goal of these programs is to cause these boys, like sunflowers, to turn their heads toward the light and see redemption, forgiveness, healing, and most of all, salvation from this dark world, in which they have seen the darkest corners.

That is as real as it gets.