It was the discovery I had been
working for, digging through the archives of these Bolivian Quakers. I held the
file folder in my hand and grinned. Now I would at last be able to unlock the
secrets, bring to light the hidden facts.
But as I looked closely at the
folder, I realized that before opening it, I had to remove the small blocks of
cheese that marred its surface. So one by one, I pried them loose, and the
folder revealed its true form. It was a turret, part of a fortress intent on
guarding its secrets from all foreign invaders. There would be no discoveries
for me today. Thwarted. Again.
Then I woke up.
I think it’s time to come home.
We’re now completing our eighth week here in La Paz, working in the files, interviewing
people, wondering, searching, writing. I frequently wake up dreaming about some
aspect of this project. Usually my dreams are more positive.
Yes, it’s time to come home.
One of the challenging aspects of
this project has been finding written documentation in an oral culture. For the
first years of the years of the history of the Bolivian Friends Church (INELA),
1919-1950, there are no written records from the Bolivian perspective. Early
missionaries wrote home, but here in La Paz, the archives for those years don’t
exist.
So we interview. Oral history, the
collective memory of a people, is fascinating and a valid source of data. But
it can also be a bit shakey. Poke the details, and they vanish, leaving
residues of historic dust. When we bend down to poke around in the dust, tiny
footprints hint of a path and bid us follow.
One of the dusty footprint paths
we’re following has to do with the story of an Aymara man named Cruz Chipana, a
leader in the community of Amacari on Lake Titicaca. Apparently he heard the
gospel story and became a disciple of Jesus long before the Quaker testimony
reached Bolivia. He built up a small group of converts who gathered
clandestinely to talk about Jesus and pray. One source (whose grandfather was
part of that group of secret believers) says they chewed coca leaves as a way
to enter into worship. In 1924 when Juan Ayllón, the first Quaker missionary, visited this group, they
were primed and ready to become a Friends meeting. Today they are one of the strongest
Friends Churches in the lake district.
We’ve found four oral sources for
this story, and while the common threads in the different versions encourage us
with hints of truth, the details vary considerably. So we keeping looking and
listening and asking and knocking.
Such fun.
Our constant prayer: “Lord, lead
us to truth. Grant us the discoveries and insights that will not only give a
clearer picture of the past, but that will also help supply your people with a
vision for their future.”
Today we begin packing up our
stuff, straightening and cleaning the office, making sure the scans are all
backed up. Sunday afternoon we have our last team meeting. Our Bolivian
colleagues remain behind to carry out the field research, while we go home to
Oregon to scrounge around in the yearly meeting mission files and try to raise
funds for the project. We’ll encourage each other via monthly Skype team
meetings.
And we’ll keep praying for those
fortresses to be brought down, for truth to prevail.
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ReplyDeleteNancy, I decided to give myself a title. You know who I am. I loved this entry. You sound so full of life. I know your family, friends, community and even the strangers in your home area will be delighted to have you back home. I look forward to a long phone conversation soon.
DeleteYes, let's talk! We just got in today and are going to bed early. But this week would be good. A loooong conversation.
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