Samán

Since there was no room on the plane Jeremy and Susan took from Lima to Pucallpa, Graham and I took the first one out the next day. That same day we all got on a launch bound for Iquitos on the Ucayali River that would stop in Samán. On the launch, we found our place and strung up our hammocks for the three day voyage. In Samán, we met with two men who had been through our training the session before mine, and taught classes on storying and Biblical churches. Although the teachings challenged them, they received them well.

The Saturday after we arrived, a few of the men and I went out into the country to gather some leaves for a local dish they were preparing. On the way we met a man in a motocar. Javier, one of the guys I was with, stopped to talk to him. He asked me if I wanted to play soccer later that afternoon. I told them I was not very good, but would be willing to play. He then asked me for 5 soles (about $1.50) and wrote my name on a clipboard, which I thought was strange for a pick-up game. After collecting the leaves, we met several soccer players in jerseys and cleats heading for the soccer field. I asked Javier who they were. He told me they were with the club I was going to play against.

"A club! You signed me up to play with a club! I barely know how to play!" I said. He groaned and apologized while I made up my mind I just would not show up. We arrived at the place Jeremy and Susan were staying, and watched as a steady stream of people passed by heading for the soccer field. Their host told me they were all going to watch me play! I asked him how he knew, and he told me they had made an announcement in the center of town!

Well, could not just not go if the entire town knew about it, but I did not even have any shoes to wear. All I had brought were sandals, and nobody sold shoes in my size. We tossed around a few options, decided I had to go, and hoped for the best. We arrived about halftime (I had been in no hurry while deliberating what to do). They gave me a jersey and shorts, but none of their shoes would even come up over my heel. I thought I was off the hook until a boy rode up on a bicycle with a pair of cleats I could just squeeze into.

So, I went to the sideline and awaited the moment of my humiliation. The coach said he would put me in for the last twenty minutes, which is what they do with their star players. I streched, tried to learn by watching the various positions, and prayed. Finally, the ref blew his whistle, and the players started to walk off the field.

"What´s going on?" I asked. The coach told me the game was over; they had tied. So I did not have to play! I did not even try to hide my relief. They apologized, explained that there was a mix-up, and promised I would get the chance the next week. The next week was election week-end, and since voting is mandatory in Peru, everyone had to travel to one of the voting towns. No one was around, therefore, to play. What a shame!

The week we were supposed to leave Samán, both Pucallpa and Iquitos went on strike, so there were no launches. We only had to wait a few days, however, and traveled back to Lima. In Lima we learned that Cusco went on strike, which held us up for a few more days since we had to pass through there to get back to Pto. Maldonado.

Teaching through stories