Oyacachi

Oyacachi

by Jason Krantz

I watched the mist moving with icy and deliberate intent through a yellow valley sprinkled with dark evergreens. Some ten yards away, a sheer drop of deadly distance marked where a mudslide had plunged into the abyss below, all too recently; and would do so again without warning. Giving the edge of the precipice a wide berth went without saying. But the clouds below me paid no heed to such perils, burdened as they were with the highest and most beautiful of callings – the command and guidance of God Himself. I considered what a holy and pure duty we ourselves have been called to – a crusade of life and love. Pure and tender as clouds, on us lay the delightful burden of strengthening the faith of the children of Oyacachi.

My reverie was disturbed by the horn of the bus. Our lunch stop had ended. You may imagine my alarm when the bus began to pull out onto the road without me…

           

I was not forgotten, and in a state of slight embarrassment I huddled against the window, watching the quaint village of Oyacachi creep up around us. Thatch-roofed huts mixed with cement-and-tin structures, and canals of water crisscrossed our path. The people of Oyacachi    (population around 700) were isolated until a about 20 years ago, as no road pierced so deep into the wilderness. Missionaries spread the Gospel to Oyacachi, and at first, almost the entire village became saved. With dark influences of the outside world, the church has shrunk to a still-sizable portion of the small population – about three hundred strong.

           

Our purpose in visiting the village was to help this small church wherever our abilities were needed. LIFT has been visiting this village for a number of years and helps the children by providing Sunday school style lessons, English as a second language lessons, and “high-energy” games, along with some testimonies for the youth and singles, and a few skits.

           

Almost from the moment we got off the bus, there were children everywhere. I was overwhelmed, and could only watch in disbelief as children anywhere from four to fourteen threw themselves into the arms of white strangers, eagerly chattering in Spanish and the indigenous language, Quichua. I was stunned by the unconditional and unprovoked love these children had for us, the total trust in their eyes. Their sweet innocence conquered our hearts.

           

The village itself is a legacy of the Incan Empire, in which the Quichua were a strong and reliable (often abused) work force. Now they work the ground in relative contentment, subsistent except for fear of the occasional mudslide. Wriggling with activity like a child in the arms of the mighty Andes mountains, they are industrious in producing lumber, wood carvings, potatoes, onions, and farmed trout (which we dined on sumptuously, despite the enduring and unappetizing accompaniment of the head and tail).  They also rely on tourisum centered on natural hot springs at the east end of town (a pleasant and all-too-brief retreat on our last day). Some of the wooden bowls and hand-made articles were as beautiful as the scenery around us.

           

Our first night, the older ladies of the church sang songs of welcome, with maracas, drums, and a guitar. Weathered by life on this forbidding and beautiful landscape, in a village perched in the clouds, they seemed to be changeless pillars of tradition and virtue in the face of an expanding and encompassing world. In the morning, volunteers from El Refugio who had accompanied us shared their testimonies – amid which the love of strangers, foreigners, fellow believers from an alien world who could not speak Spanish, and could only love with hugs and smiles, had bolstered their childhood faith and helped shape them into the leaders and strong men of God they are today. They are the soon-coming defenders of the faith, the caretakers of the balance between tradition and technology. They are well on their way to someday standing like those ladies, poised in the gap between Christ and those he calls to follow Him, leaders of the church.

LIFT is the only group “from the outside” that visits Oyacachi, and has been for 9 years. By our prayers, by our work, and by God’s love in us that was shown to the children of Oyacachi, someday God will raise up the next generation of leaders from among them. What a privilege to be part of a new tradition, one in which cultures meet and the sounds and colors of God’s people blend in harmony.  Seeds have been planted and with a few years of growth and our prayers behind them, who knows what these children can do?

Remember to check out our photos of the trip in the LIFT 39 Photo Album on the LIFT Discipleship Program Facebook page.