The Skin is a Dead Give-a-way

About a kilometer from the area we are currently living in and working in since January, is a community known as Mario Peso. Twelve months ago, a group of evangelical, white, missionaries tried to enter the area and were unsuccessful. The natives wouldn’t let them in, even picking up stones to make their point. The culprit was “Pela Cara”.

When we first came to Peru seven and a half months ago, we were warned about being accused as “pela caras”, or in English, “face peelers”. I have talked to as many sources as I can to figure out the history of pela cara. I’ve gotten some greatly exaggerated tales, I’ve gotten some truth (I believe) and I’ve run into many who won’t talk to me about it.

From what I can gather, three or so years ago, some corpses of Peruvian children were found with all their fat and organs taken out. The culprits were Peruvians working for white foreigners, one online news source I’ve found said Italians. The same source said that human fat can be sold for 15,000 dollars a liter, which, for those people whose consciences have rotted completely, gives them an incentive to befriend natives and then kill them for money. It’s happened several other times; mass killings that normally take place in very remote areas of Peru. The culprits are normally Peruvian gangs, but the killings are inevitably associated with white foreigners, and it certainly serves the gangs to do what they can to sustain that belief among the people.

We haven’t had any problems with this association until now, as we are currently working very close to Mario Peso, a sight of some of the killings. When we first came, some mothers would not let their kids come to our vacation bible school because we were white. Others, as we went door to door looking for bible studies, hid in their homes and did not answer our calls. However, as we began to establish our reputation in the community as harmless gringos who ran a great medical clinic and taught things about the Bible that were new and exciting, the community began to warm up to us. We began to form friendships and break many deeply rooted mentalities about foreigners that had been held for generations.

Establishing this reputation was an uphill battle. It certainly didn’t help that there was a certain non-Adventist church in the area that decided to use our white-ness to their advantage. As we began going from home to home signing people up for studies and then teaching the Word of God, the already established church must have felt threatened. Some of their members went from home to home, telling the people that the reason we were writing names down was because we were creating a list of those that were to be killed and robbed of fat and organs. There were a few Bible students of my own, that, looking back I imagine I lost to this tactic. The students of another bible worker in our group were particularly hard hit and deceived by the efforts of these Christians.

About a month into the campaign, a child in our neighborhood died from an unknown cause. A rumor went around that we had somehow killed the kid, maybe with our medicine, and we were just waiting for a good opportunity to collect on the fat. This was right in the middle of our public evangelism campaign, an event consisting of nightly meetings in a large tent for two weeks. We were afraid our meeting attendance would go down on account of the new rumor. On the contrary, our meeting attendance continued to grow each night until the very end. Hard work and the Holy Spirit had prevailed.

The other day, I was heading back home after giving Bible studies, and a family who I hadn’t met before waved me over to their home. As I approached, the man of the house held out his hand and gave me a firm hand shake, while the mother and their children gave me warm smiles. They offered me a Peruvian Cola drink and a chair. We sat and talked about Peru, and Peruvian culture. They asked about what America was like, and I told them of its culture. They expressed their appreciation for the work our team was doing in their neighborhood. As I stood to leave, the father told me, a little sheepishly, that the family had thought we were pela caras when we first came. The family then burst into laughter as if to show me how ridiculous they thought that notion was now. I joined in the laughter and we joked about how on earth I´d be able to kill anyone as I showed them that the only thing I had in my backpack was my Bible.

As I walk through the streets of what has come to be our home, I no longer see children crouched in the shadows whispering of pela caras. Our vacation bible schools are full, the playground we built is always teeming with kids, and we will soon have thirty some newly baptized members worshiping God in a new church that we have built. I have learned the powerful lesson, that the best way to break a mentality is through your actions. Surrounded by a cloud of skeptics, mockers, and the incredulous, the best course of action is to work hard to build your reputation and show them your values by the example you leave. The fruits of your labor cannot be refuted, and the skeptics (the ones that count anyway) will be won to your cause. If I am ever tempted to neglect the importance of example, I´ll remember our small Peruvian community, a place that will now always have its doors open to those that want to make a difference, no matter what color their skin is.


Here is the report I referenced in the blog:
http://www.news.com.au/world/killers-harvested-human-fat-for-30-years/story-e6frfkyi-1225801529641