If You Are Reading This… (it can only mean one thing)

Well, if you read writing on this blog again, it can mean only one thing… I’m on the move.

I always thought that the time spent away on any trip, should at least be greater than the amount of time between you decide and when you leave for it. Apparently not so, in this case.

Despite returning home from two weeks in sunny South Australia only one week ago, I’ve agreed to volunteer as part of Youth For Christ team that is visiting the North West of Australia. For two weeks. We leave in less than one week. That’s a record for me, I think.

But, everything aligned for me to go, since I still refuse to have a real job and any form of adult commitment, so dropping everything in an instance doesn’t really take too much juggling (mostly cos you are dropping it… I’d make a terrible clown).

Oh dear, rambling now. A sure sign of sleep deprivation. This week would have been super busy if I wasn’t going away at the end of it. Now it’s going to require Bear Grylls-like survival skills. Minus drinking the wee, I hope.

According to googlemaps, this trip is going to take a 69 hour round trip, without even taking into account that any driving undertaken by me will probably result in several hours of wrong direction taking. The leader has assured me that he’ll just let me loose on long, straight roads with no turn points.  GOOD.

I am looking forward to this, I haven’t spent much memorable* time in the north west of my much beloved state, and I can’t wait to see what awaits me there. Plus, numerous games of  “I’m going to the moon, and I’m taking…” whilst in the car.

Well, that’s all for now, there are a billion and one things to be done before Sunday arvo, and I have tomorrow to do them in. Deep breaths. Focus my time. Get off Facebook….

Yeah, like that’s going to happen.

Kezza.

*Memorable – I think my family went around Australia when I was 3. I remember one flash from The World Expo ’88 and also blue butterflies landing on me in my electric blue bathing suit in Alice Spings (and it scaring the CRAP out of me.. so much so that I cried and refused to wear them any more that day)… but that’s about it.

Re-Westernising

Friends! Amigos!

It’s been so long, how are you all?

I’ve been loving being back in Australia, oh God bless this beloved homeland. I’ve caught up with some awesome friends and some wikid-sik family since I’ve been back, reslotted into work (it’s like I never left) and suddenly found myself with an incredible amount of possessions.

I’ve been re-westernising.

And this is the third time around for coming back to Aussie land after an extended period away, so it’s becoming fairly old-school in terms of what to expect. Life goes on, my time abroad was brilliant, amazing, incredible, thought-provoking… I’ve changed, I’ve learnt, I’ve helped, I’ve returned. I can’t live in the past, but I can remember it with fond memories and do what I can to share what I’ve learnt with others.

Hey! And, if you want to see my video, Peru in Two and a Half Minutes, follow this link!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNc2_Ug-LzU

If you live in Perth, I might be having a night to share what I’ve experienced in the past 6 months, so drop me a line and let me know if you’re interested. I’ll give you details personally.

Rock on, my fellow crazies,

never be normal.

Kerryn

Chau Iquitos, It’s Been Real…

Hola readers!

Well, what a journey it has been. As I arrived at my grandma’s house this afternoon, she told me she’d been reading my blog, ‘Where in the world is Kerryn Kapitola?’ and we were able to answer – well, right now, at Grandma’s house!

… Australia.

Sorry for the failure to write during my last week in Iquitos, like I expected, time slipped away from me like an unwinding string on a reel and within moments it was Thursday morning, and I had possessions given away, bags packed, ticket in hand.

Saying goodbye to some of the awesome people I’d shared five months with was pretty yuck. Some I wondered if I’d see again; some I knew – with a fair amount of certainty – that I wouldn’t. My way of life, my existence in Iquitos up to that point, was finishing.

One last motocarro ride to the airport, a check-in, a last-minute visit from two amigas and through security. Chau Iquitos, it’s been real.

I stayed the night in Lima with the same family I’d stayed with during the Equipo Movil in October. They were very friendly, considering my contact had forgotten to mention that I was coming… there were a few awkward moments of like, ‘oh, you’re here, with your bags… hows it going?’ but they were so hospitable anyway.

The next day, I was back at the airport, big long itinerary in hand, backs full, nervousness mostly suppressed. I was convinced: nothing was going to go wrong with this journey home…

Handing the check-in guy my itinerary, he asked my where I was going and on what flight. After a brief slightly-daunting miscommunication about my first flight, we realized I was actually on it and I could book in for all of my flights home…

The thing was, I was booked into fly to Perth. Since I would receive no refund for cancelling my Perth flight, and they wouldn’t let me change the route… I didn’t cancel it. I decided I just wouldn’t show. I was planning on flying to Adelaide, after all. So there was this small worry at the back of my mind that my bags wouldn’t show up at Sydney International Airport for the customs run, but rather in Perth… where I wasn’t going to be for another two weeks.

Oh well, couldn’t help that.

Lima to Santiago. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Six hours in the airport, got cold by the end and hadn’t packed a jumper so out came the credit card. Now I have a fully awesomely over-sized and warm fleecy jumper. I’m pretty sure it’s for men. Oh well, you know the saying…cold, bored, Australian girls can’t be choosers.

Santiago to Auckland. Thirteen hours of FUN!

Yep, sure.

We went into sleep mode pretty early in, but really, sleeping on a plane with my body isn’t something that is going to happen very easily. I eventually managed a few positions akin to a faetus, so I managed to get just barely enough.

It was a long flight.

Auckland. One hour stop-over. Their airport is cool.

Re-boarded with a new neighbor – a New Zealander girl who acted ditzy but was studying her Masters in Economics… go figure. She liked to talk.

As we were about to pull out and FLY… the Captain came on and said we had some technical difficulties and had to go back to the gate to get them rechecked. Twenty minutes he said.

Twenty minutes, I had.

One hour and thirty minutes, I just barely had.

That what how long we were delayed for before our flight took off.

Cue: Sydney Airport and the notion that if I raced through, I might catch my flight to Adelaide in time.

Immigration, bags, customs, bus, check-in. Forty five minutes.

How strange that the things I thought would eat my time – immigration and customs – probably actually took less time, in total, than I had to wait for my bags. (Which for ages I had concluded had been sent straight to Perth… how to survive Adelaide without anything… hmmmm).

I jumped on the shuttle bus, arrived in Terminal 2, raced to the Jetstar counter…

“10:10…Can I still check in?”

“No.”

But she said it really nicely.

Good thing I’M SO DARN SMART, because I’d bought a JetFlex ticket, knowing that if any flight was late my connections would be tight, so I rocked up at the assistance counter and changed my flight to the next one. At 5:10pm. Another seven hours at the airport to kill.

Kerryn, you should have gone into the city and…

No.

Thirty-six hours of travel and sightseeing on the fly was not what I needed.

So, I waited. I talked with two Australian Federal Police, who smashed any stereotypes I had of them, and drank a milkshake.

Sweet.

Then, finally, I boarded.

My fifth and final flight in order to see my parents.

How was that flight? I don’t really remember. I was sleeping.

Then, plane landed, disembarked, walking the bridge and through the tinted glass of the full length windows facing the airstrip, I saw them.

Mum and Dad!

I may have skipped a step or two to get to them.

Reunions are great, one of the best parts of travelling actually. And my next three weeks will be filled with them. In two days I will see my NEPHEWS! (And my brother and sister-in-law). I’ve been seeing family over here in staggered formation and when I return to Perth, a whole new group of people will await me… family, friends… I cannot wait!

Jetlag’s not been so bad, mainly cos I was just so spent from the 42+ hours of travelling I’d just undertaken that sleep came easily that night. And the next. And now I’m here, day 3 of returning.

And I miss Peru. I do. I miss speaking Spanish and I miss the heat and I miss some of the great people I met. But Perth is my life too, and I can’t be in two places at once.

Because, really, if I had a choice, I’d be in five.

More to come when I regress to Perth, but for now, from South Australia, adios, chau, hasta luego and I’ll see you around like a rissole.

Kerryn.

Supervivencia

Tengo polvos. Tengo hambre. Tengo sueno. Tengo dolor.

(I have dirt. I have hunger. I have dream. I have pain.)

But… it was totally worth it!

This crazy weekend just past, I packed my bags, jumped on a motorcycle and headed off out of Iquitos to a campsite to join 185 kids, 30 parents, 15 youths and 9 staff for the experience of a lifetime.

And here’s how it went…

How to do a children’s camp without Duty-of-Care restrictions?

It was really interesting to experience a camp situation in another culture. The main difference I noticed was the non-existence of Duty Of Care, which we have in Australia. Pretty much, Duty Of Care is basically: ‘…if anything goes wrong, it’s the leaders’ fault’. There is a high emphasis on risk-management and all the responsibility falls on the directors and leaders of the group.

In Peru, I’m pretty sure the legality of Duty Of Care doesn’t exist. This means, responsibility falls on the child to take care in how they act.

For example, in Australian camp, there is a risk that a kid could fall out of a tree he was climbing and injure himself. His parents will ask, how come my child is injured, and why wasn’t anything done to stop this? Then, because the responsibility falls on the leaders, a rule will be put in place that no kids can climb trees, lest they falls and hurt themselves.

In Peru, if a child climbs a tree and fall out, his parents will ask how come my child in injured, and then probably scold the child for making a bad decision to climb such a high tree.

Same situation, different mindset.

That’s not to say that adequate care wasn’t taken at this camp, it’s just to say that there is a lot less pressure to moddy-coddle kids into what they should be doing.

Also, there is a lot less pressure in situations where staff are low in numbers. For example, usually in Australia, if a child needs to go to the toilet, it’s possible that two people need to accompany the kid, so they everyone knows that no abuse has taken place. Here, it’s just like – alright, I’ll take you – and no one thinks twice, or their older sibling will take them (and if they get up to trouble whilst they are gone, the older sibling gets in trouble), or they just go on their own, or they pee outside.

Yeah, that was the funniest part.

The kids were very accustomed to peeing anywhere, even the girls, so for the age group I was working with, whenever they needed to pee, it was like, ‘yep, ok, just go around the corner and be quick.’ So much easier!!

So, in terms of the caring for children, I think Australia could afford to lax it’s rules a bit. We could afford to let some of the responsibility fall on the kids to make better decisions.

Program

The days started at 6am with a small group devotion. Yep, started at 6am. I was a stranger to sleep all weekend. After 30 minutes, shower time, breakfast, waiting for breakfast to be cleaned up, crazy celebration of praise time, general devotional, classes with the different age groups (kinda like a Sunday school-type thing), lunch, rest, afternoon activities – one day it was a massive ‘wide games’ with water, another day it was another class with with a baptism, more showering time, dinner, more celebration, drawing/colouring/speaker for the youths and parents, bed time!

Christmas!

On Monday morning, we had a Christmas breakfast with Paneton and hot chocolate, then a Christmas celebration, then the opening of presents, then a Christmas lunch. It was pretty cool.

Heat

We were 30 minutes out of Iquitos, so not quite in the deep jungle yet, although for sure there were enough palm trees and vines and bugs to go around. It was hot and humid all the time, but luckily not as hot as I remember the deep jungle – there was a breeze once in awhile.

But trying to have a nap in the tent at 1pm in the afternoon with afternoon sun coming and hotness all around?… lets just say not much nap was had.

Translation

The hardest thing I found about the camp was not being able to understand a lot of what the kids were trying to tell me. I knew words like ‘orinar’ and ‘yo quiero dormir!’, but when they rattled off a long fast sentence in a quiet voice, I was stuck. It was really frustating and along with that, I struggled to say what I wanted to. Sometimes the kids needed to go away because other kids were still in class… and while I could tell them that in Spanish, I didn’t have enough Spanish to bust their chops when they decided to see if I really was serious. Now, normally in Australia, I have no problem with this, but here, it was so frustrating! I would say, ‘go play in your dorm’ and they would just smile and grab onto me and continue making noise…

Eventually, I discovered the best thing to do, if I could, was just grab another leader, tell them what I wanted the kids to do. Two words from someone that could bust their chops and the kids were outta there!

If ever there were a zombie invasion…

The kids liked to hug me. And hold me. And grab onto me. And jump in front of me to hug me again…. At times it got a bit hard to go anywhere. There was one time that I just needed some SPACE, so I escaped the kids and ran into the hall, where they weren’t allowed to go. They waited outside for me.

As I leant on the open window (as in, just air, no glass), they would come around the side to grab onto me. Same thing with the other side.

I decided I needed a drink of water – in the dining room – about 10 metres away. So, distracting them by standing by a window so they’d all come to one side, I bolted through the hall and out the door.

But they were fast! Kids were jumping on me from all sides and hanging on as I trudged, almost like walking through mud, kids hanging off me, to get to the Dining Hall, where they also weren’t allowed.

Finally, I got there, told the kids they couldn’t come inside and concluded if ever there were a zombie invasion, I’d be fine.

Bites

I have bites. Yep.

Sleep

Not a lot of sleep took place, we finished our responsibilities at about 11 or after and were up by 5:30am for the devotional in the morning. Did I manage to nap during the day? Not a lot. I slept in a tent on the ground, with a thin thin mattress.

I am sore and I am tired.

Kids

There were, like always, a few kids that really stood out to me. Whether it was their nutty personality or their quiet shyness, by the end of the camp, I was pretty sad to say goodbye to these guys.

There was Liset, who was the sweetest little 5 year old around.

Roger, the kid that bounced everywhere and did everything with 200% energy.

Angel who was part of my zombie-crew and kept saying ‘mira abajo – tu trabajo, mira al frente, presidente!’.

Daniel, the little smiler.

Another little boy, whose name I can’t remember, who was the happiest 2.5 yr old I’ve ever seen. He wanted to play all the time and didn’t mind that I was a gringa, and would wrap his arms around my neck and give me big sloppy kisses on my cheek.

A whole bunch of 6 year old girls who thought hugging me was the best thing possible.

And a whole bunch more.

Crazy kids.

So, more or less, that was my camp experience. Fun, nutty, crazy, hard work, awesome.

Thanks for reading.

Now, I’m going back to bed.

Kez.

On One Hand

It’s not like it’s unusual – every surface of my room being covered in clothes, books, bags, photos, papers and stuff. But this is one of those unique times when all that disorder serves a purpose.

I’m packing.

Firstly, I have the kids’ camp tomorrow. Four days, 185 kids, 15 youth leaders, 30 parents and 9 YWAM staff… and did I mention 185 kids?

I’m packing for that.

But as I go, I am also sorting out what clothes I am going to give to whom when I leave, what I’m bringing back to Australia and what I already have in Perth that I have to ask mum to bring over for the two weeks in Adelaide.

Brain hurty much?

We’ve hit the final straights. I can count the number of days left in Iquitos on one hand. Every night that I go to sleep on the top bunk, looking out over the lights of Iquitos, I try to imprint the sensation into my mind.

I’m a bit sick again right now, but with the vision of being in Australia soon, it’s not anything that I can’t handle.

See ya on Monday!

(if I’m still alive)

Peace,

Kerryn.

It can't be classed as messy if it's only temporary... right?

What I Meant to Say, Before WordPress ATE ME BLOG!

[Kudos to my brother for sending me this copy of my initial blog, before I re-posted with a photo and instead, lost the entire thing. Gracias!]

Hey, um, didn’t I just get here??

Nope, five months down, ten days to go!

And in that time is a kids camp, a goodbye party, packing, saying goodbye, sorting out what stuff I’m going to haul all the way back to Australia and catching some planes, all resulting in getting the heck outta here! But I will be sad to go. Bittersweet. There are some great people I’ve got to know here and some crazy experiences that I never could have predicted would occur in my lifetime, so I’m thankful for the five months that Peru gave me.

In other news, the money for the Kids’ camp came through – sweet – so they are extremely grateful and I heard the word espectacular come out of David’s mouth numerous times… as in, this blessing is spectacular and its going to be used for spectactular things. We tried to say that we don’t use spectacular as a word as much in English, but then I thought, well, why not… This can be a spectacular blessing!

Thanks to the guys that gave, you are a spectacular blessing!!!

If you missed out this time around, you can still give to this ministry… I’m only here for ten more days so get on it Next year the base will filled with DTS students and teams and staff and people coming and going and so both kitchens are going to be FULL… the children’s ministry is looking at getting some of their own kitchen equipment to be prepared for this time, so any money you give now, will go toward that. Some of my money that I had planned to give for the camp (if all the money didn’t come through) is going to go towards that, because I can’t ask people to give if I’m not invested into this as well. And I am.

That doesn’t mean I’m not incredibly freaked out about the camp, though!! 180 kids, heat, four days, spanish ALL the time… AHHHH!!!… *sigh* The joy of the Lord is my strength. THE JOY OF THE LORD IS MY STRENGTH!!!…. keep saying it Kerryn. I know God will pour out His blessings on these kids during this time, and what a privilege to be a part of it, hey. You all wish you were me! Yeah!…. ok.

Peace out dude, more updates to come as I begin my final preparations for the camp and for coming home…

Chau amigos,

Dios te bendiga!

K.

Hey, um, didn’t I just get here??

mmm-mmm, don't leave home without it, kids

Just a hint, don’t anyone EVER sign up to WordPress. It ate my blog again. But in happier news, here’s a picture of the tablets I’m taking, they are antiparasitic and fantastic! Mmmm-mmmm.

Two Things Happened on Friday

Can I tell you my tale about Friday?

It was the perfect example of what it means to live in a missionary life.

Two things happened on Friday, the first was that I told David, the children’s ministry director here, that he didn’t have to worry about finding $2000 in two weeks. You haven’t lived until you’d told someone that, really. He was so amazed and thankful and excited and amazed and grateful and relieved… I mean, he knew that God was going to provide, he just didn’t know from where. What an amazing feeling to tell him that.

I give all the kudos to God, of course. There’s no way I could have raised $2000 just because I’d wanted to. But I’d felt God telling me to do this, and we prayed that he would release the money, and he did (or rather, his peeps were obedient to His call). Amazingly, some of the money came from people I’d never even thought of, in quantities that I wouldn’t have dreamed of. 

Before I started, I was accepting of the fact that okay, if no one donated anything then I was going to fund this camp solo.

‘It might wipe me out, but that’s the burden I feel, so I gotta go with it.’

Then God’s like, ‘Calm down Kerryn, I got it under control.”

Amazing. Really, really cool.

Such a high.

Two things happened on Friday, the second was that I went, as usual, to the Boulevard. My little friend Camilo isn’t usually there on Fridays, but I wanted to catch up with his mum, Lari, again, just to make sure we were still cool that I picked him up the next day for the Saturday morning program.

It was a strange night, because when I got to the Boulevard, and to the market shops where the people I know are, the lady at the front’s shop was closed. She (Hermanita) was one of the first non-YWAM people I met when I came to Iquitos, through the American girl here, Becky. I asked a girl I vaguely knew ‘where is Hermanita’ and she said at a conference at her church. Oh well, that’s okay.

Then I went to the next shop back, Lari’s shop. Expecting to see Lari, I was surprised to see a new lady. I asked her where Lari was. She said that Lari had travelled, (which in Spanish, means basically what we’d say as ‘left’). I was confused because I knew she and Camilo were traveling to Laticia just after Christmas, but I didn’t know where she’d gone for this time. Perhaps she’d be back in a few days, I thought.

I left the Boulevard and wandered the streets for awhile, just looking at shops and taking in my last few weeks of Iquitos. Eventually, I headed back to the base. Before entering my room, I stopped off at Becky’s room (it’s right next door) and let her know that Hermanita had been at a conference. And also that I had been told that Lari had ‘travelled’ but I that I hadn’t thought that she was going to Laticia until the 26th.

Becky looked at me, then looked at her computer and looked back at me.

“It is the 26th.”

OF NOVEMBER!!

Crap.

I had got it wrong. Somewhere between my inability to understand Spanish and my inability to speak Spanish, I got confused.

[On a side note, I think this was mainly cos I'd said I was leaving on the 16th of December, and she said she was leaving on the 26th and then another time I'd said 'you're travelling after christmas' and she 'd said yes, but then, who knows what I'd actually said because I always say random badly Spanished things and it's totally legit for someone to agree even if they don't understand (heck, I do all the time!).]

They’d left. My one little buddy, cutest thing around, had gone. And I didn’t go and say goodbye. What a horrible gringa I felt like!!

But, when I looked back, a lot of things fell into place. The week before, when I’d come around, she’d insisted on giving me a photo of her and Camilo. The next day I went back and let her and Camilo pick a photo of me from my photo album (funny story: Camilo actually really wanted the photo of Perth by the river but his mum said that he couldn’t have that and that I had to be in the photo). I thought we had weeks left to exchange photos and gifts and stories.. turns out it had been just days. She’d known that so we got to swap photos.

And really, maybe, maybe, that was the best thing. Saying goodbye to Camilo would have been hard – heck, I’d had enough trouble saying goodbye to my nephews when they left for South Australia to live and I knew I would see them again. Lari, Camilo and I had had some kind of closure with the photo-exchange, so really, I couldn’t have requested more from God than that.

And that’s the life of a missionary. That has been my life for the past five months. In ten days, I go for my missionary ‘exam’, as I like to call it – the Children’s camp. Hehehe, I do feel like it will test to see if I ‘pass’ my time in Iquitos. Will I be able to survive four days in the stinkin humidity, the lack of bathing facilities (i.e. everyone watches the gringa bath in her t-shirt and shorts in the river. yay.), the lack of spaces to escape to from the kids once in awhile, the constant spanish spoken by poorly grammatical children, the expectant stares from some parents for me to understand what they’ve just spoken at the speed of sound (I’m thinking like, a sonic boom in Spanish?)… it will be my exam. If I survive and pass (failing is not an option, I’ve come too far to throw in the towel and curl up into a cataconic ball, rocking back and forth muttering to myself lines from Pride and Prejudice)…then three days later I leave Iquitos.

Wanna do missions? Prepare yourself for the extreme highs and the extreme lows of life.

Kerryn. Currently somewhere in the middle.

Making Faces Because We Are Cool

Squeezing Shut the Eyes

Smoosh!

How To Be Awesome… (in four simple steps)

Amigos!

Gracias for all your interest in helping these kids! If you’ve decided to take the plunge of being awesome, here’s what to do next:

1) “Register your interest” – email me, Facebook me, leave a comment here, tell my parents, send a carrier pigeon… let me know.

2) I will send you an email, Facebook message or carrier toucan with bank account details to deposit money into/electronically transfer from the comfort of your own home. The bank account is Australian, ANZ-ian and mine.

3) On the 3rd December, one week before the camp starts, I’ll withdraw everyone’s money in Neuvo Soles and pass it on the Ministry Directors.

4) They will give me individual receipts for each of your donations and I will get you a copy/original (/carrier pigeon version – those are really tiny but).

5) Kids will smile. I’ll get you photos!

That’s how easy it is. Don’t miss out on this opportunity to bless the world. I’m not!

More questions? Still confused? Not sure how carrier toucans work? Pondering why blue food colouring turns poo green? All legitmate questions. Leave a comment on the blog and I’ll respond.

Bless you all!

Dios los bendiga, mi amigos!!

Kerryn.

LOVE ME!!

Yes, We Can.

Today I officially begin my campaign.

Asking people for money.

Yikes!

I suppose you could say that God has brought me 360° in my study of poverty. Coming from thinking that I knew what to do and doing the inappropriate thing, I then didn’t know what to do and was reluctant to do anything. Now I’m here, 3 and a half weeks to go, and I know what I can do and I’m doing it!

In the past months, I’ve been hesitant to encourage Westerners to pour money into situations they don’t totally understand. And I still am. But what happens when someone you trust, does understand. And is working to counteract the flow of poverty.

Then you give everything you’ve got.

Well, at least that’s where I’m at.

I’ve found myself a cause. Ministerio Niños Para Cristo (Children for Christ Ministry) is the reason I’ve been woken up every Saturday at 7am for the last 5 months. Our front bell buzzes and the day begins, with children streaming in over the next two hours, absolutely LOVING being here (thus, they get here at 7am…) – a place with music, laughter, colouring, fun, love, safe people, food, hugs and Jesus personified many times over. (Heck, I love it and I’m 25).

Directed by two full-time South American YWAMers, the majority of the help comes from the local youth group. These teenagers are here every Saturday morning, helping run the music and teaching and drying tears and giving piggyback rides and supervising and cooking for 130 kids and cleaning up once they’ve finished eating. Huge effort from a committed team!

The kids themselves are a crazy bunch, as any group of over 100 kids normally is! There is every type of personality – from the shy ones who are wary of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed gringa, to the extremely bold, like one girl who jumped up for a hug, the first time she ever saw me. I love that this is the kind of place where they feel safe to do that. We are their safe people.

So, that being said, here is my cause. The children at risk of being coaxed into drugs, drug trafficking, child prostitution and teenage pregnancy. With nothing else to do, no guidelines of how to live and no other way to earn money for food, this is what will happen.

But you, dear reader, have the chance to partner with me, with the children, with the directors of the ministry (who work hard) and with the local youths of Iquitos and help support their end of year camp (in 3 weeks).

It costs $37 Australian Dollars for one kid’s camp experience. This camp is going ahead, whether you support it or not, because the Directors are trusting God to provide. And He will, but don’t miss out on this opportunity to directly, and responsibly help.

Wanna help change the world through a generation of children?

You can.

Let me know.

Kerryn.

P.S. This is painted on a prominent wall along the Bouevard. If they have to condemn it, then clearly it’s happening.

...this is why the Children's Ministry is so important.

Or, check out a short video of the Saturday Morning craziness…