Chapter 59: Traveling back to Peru after our time in Norway.
AS TOLD BY GRO AGERSTEN
The first weeks in Norway
We were grateful for the holiday at the end of a busy stretch in Peru, but plenty awaited us upon landing at Fornebu Airport in Oslo. In accordance with the rules of the mission that supported us, we were to receive the standard missionary allowance for the first three months at home. That allowance had been enough in the Peruvian jungle, but it didn’t go far in Norway. We wanted to find jobs as soon as possible, but first we had to get settled.
Once again, we were able to rent a flat at the missionary home Mamre by Østensjøvannet. We welcomed the chance to live affordably in a quiet part of Oslo; the stability of being in the same area as when we were last in Norway meant a great deal—especially for the children. Østensjø School was just around the corner. Our parents and other family members had already helped retrieve the furniture we’d stored. There were many kind hands to help us, but still, there was much to do before we could begin working.
A warm welcome in Salem
The first Sunday back in Norway, Pastor Magne Tangen and a packed Salem church gave us a warm welcome home. It was deeply moving to see so many dear friends again—especially those who, alongside our parents at Perumisjonen, had faithfully supported us in prayer and with funds ever since before we left in 1966. We were grateful to have our home congregation, Salem, as our sending church, with a couple of other supporting congregations alongside it.
We were grateful for the holiday at the end of a busy stretch in Peru, but plenty awaited us upon landing at Fornebu Airport in Oslo. In accordance with the rules of the mission that supported us, we were to receive the standard missionary allowance for the first three months at home. That allowance had been enough in the Peruvian jungle, but it didn’t go far in Norway. We wanted to find jobs as soon as possible, but first we had to get settled.
Once again, we were able to rent a flat at the missionary home Mamre by Østensjøvannet. We welcomed the chance to live affordably in a quiet part of Oslo; the stability of being in the same area as when we were last in Norway meant a great deal—especially for the children. Østensjø School was just around the corner. Our parents and other family members had already helped retrieve the furniture we’d stored. There were many kind hands to help us, but still, there was much to do before we could begin working.
A warm welcome in Salem
The first Sunday back in Norway, Pastor Magne Tangen and a packed Salem church gave us a warm welcome home. It was deeply moving to see so many dear friends again—especially those who, alongside our parents at Perumisjonen, had faithfully supported us in prayer and with funds ever since before we left in 1966. We were grateful to have our home congregation, Salem, as our sending church, with a couple of other supporting congregations alongside it.
School and work
A few days after our arrival, Maino and Lewi started at Østensjø School—Maino in fifth grade, Lewi in first. Coming in mid‑February, near the end of the Norwegian school year, made the shift from our little school at Tigre Playa to Norwegian classrooms particularly hard. Lewi’s classmates thought his jungle stories were made up, which was painful for him. Fortunately, his teacher noticed and asked John to visit with slides and artifacts from Peru. After that visit, attitudes changed, and other teachers soon invited him to speak in their classes as well.
I took a temporary post teaching a fifth-grade class at Bryn School—the same school where I’d done a year as a substitute after our first term in Peru. The assignment ran to the end of the school year. In the spring, I was offered work as a secretary at PYM, the Pentecostal Mission Office. I accepted and began there after the summer, remaining until we returned to Peru at the end of February 1977.
John picked up some shifts as a nurse's aid at Aker Hospital while contacting churches to schedule mission services. That spring he visited a few places, with more engagements through autumn and winter. He brought slides and a display of artifacts from Peru; churches arranged school visits, and there was strong interest among pupils to see the pictures and the exhibition. John spent an extended period at Betania in Sokndal—just as he had after our first term—where longstanding friendships from earlier visits made him a welcome guest. The sisters’ mission group there took special care of work among the kids; through their support, we were able to help many sick and poor children.
We soon learned that February is an awkward month to return to Norway, especially with children. The change from jungle heat to cold, snowy winter made the adjustment much harder; the children needed warm clothes from head to toe. We are grateful to family and friends who supplied coats, boots, and everything in between. John and I had some stored clothing from earlier visits, and those of us raised in Norway adapted more quickly to the climate. We found that returning in the summer has many advantages, especially for the children, who can begin the school year with their classmates.
A few days after our arrival, Maino and Lewi started at Østensjø School—Maino in fifth grade, Lewi in first. Coming in mid‑February, near the end of the Norwegian school year, made the shift from our little school at Tigre Playa to Norwegian classrooms particularly hard. Lewi’s classmates thought his jungle stories were made up, which was painful for him. Fortunately, his teacher noticed and asked John to visit with slides and artifacts from Peru. After that visit, attitudes changed, and other teachers soon invited him to speak in their classes as well.
I took a temporary post teaching a fifth-grade class at Bryn School—the same school where I’d done a year as a substitute after our first term in Peru. The assignment ran to the end of the school year. In the spring, I was offered work as a secretary at PYM, the Pentecostal Mission Office. I accepted and began there after the summer, remaining until we returned to Peru at the end of February 1977.
John picked up some shifts as a nurse's aid at Aker Hospital while contacting churches to schedule mission services. That spring he visited a few places, with more engagements through autumn and winter. He brought slides and a display of artifacts from Peru; churches arranged school visits, and there was strong interest among pupils to see the pictures and the exhibition. John spent an extended period at Betania in Sokndal—just as he had after our first term—where longstanding friendships from earlier visits made him a welcome guest. The sisters’ mission group there took special care of work among the kids; through their support, we were able to help many sick and poor children.
We soon learned that February is an awkward month to return to Norway, especially with children. The change from jungle heat to cold, snowy winter made the adjustment much harder; the children needed warm clothes from head to toe. We are grateful to family and friends who supplied coats, boots, and everything in between. John and I had some stored clothing from earlier visits, and those of us raised in Norway adapted more quickly to the climate. We found that returning in the summer has many advantages, especially for the children, who can begin the school year with their classmates.
Vigdis Flatland returns to Norway
Back at Tigre Playa, my niece Vigdis continued teaching Rudolf and Eva Wilhelm’s children after returning from her trip to Chile. Gradually, she began to have stomach troubles; as the weeks passed, her condition worsened, and she could no longer keep food down. In September, she was at the Wycliffe base in Pucallpa, where the doctor diagnosed a rare form of amoebiasis he suspected she had contracted in Chile.
Vigdis improved slowly, but her digestive system was badly damaged, and the doctor advised her to return to Norway for a cooler, drier climate. In October 1976 we met her at Fornebu alongside her parents, Kari and Halvor Flatland, and other family. Over time, she recovered and went on to attend teacher training in Halden.
The Wilhelm Family
Rudolf and Eva kept busy while we were in Norway. An evangelist from Lima helped for a time, and there were constant river journeys to villages where small groups of believers met—and trips to new places as well. Bible weeks were held both in San Lorenzo and at Tigre Playa that year; many came to faith and were baptized. Wycliffe missionary John Tuggy, finishing the final part of the New Testament translation into Kandozii, spent several weeks at Tigre Playa that year. He and his wife, when she could join him, stayed in our house. They worked with Chapra helpers from the Morona and Kandozi from the Pastaza, and a Bible week for that people group was also held at Tigre Playa in May 1976.
Back at Tigre Playa, my niece Vigdis continued teaching Rudolf and Eva Wilhelm’s children after returning from her trip to Chile. Gradually, she began to have stomach troubles; as the weeks passed, her condition worsened, and she could no longer keep food down. In September, she was at the Wycliffe base in Pucallpa, where the doctor diagnosed a rare form of amoebiasis he suspected she had contracted in Chile.
Vigdis improved slowly, but her digestive system was badly damaged, and the doctor advised her to return to Norway for a cooler, drier climate. In October 1976 we met her at Fornebu alongside her parents, Kari and Halvor Flatland, and other family. Over time, she recovered and went on to attend teacher training in Halden.
The Wilhelm Family
Rudolf and Eva kept busy while we were in Norway. An evangelist from Lima helped for a time, and there were constant river journeys to villages where small groups of believers met—and trips to new places as well. Bible weeks were held both in San Lorenzo and at Tigre Playa that year; many came to faith and were baptized. Wycliffe missionary John Tuggy, finishing the final part of the New Testament translation into Kandozii, spent several weeks at Tigre Playa that year. He and his wife, when she could join him, stayed in our house. They worked with Chapra helpers from the Morona and Kandozi from the Pastaza, and a Bible week for that people group was also held at Tigre Playa in May 1976.
The Wilhelm family left for Norway at the end of January 1977. They would have preferred to wait until summer, but without a teacher for the children it was impossible. They prayed for a solution. The answer came in a letter from our American friend Chris Burgdorf, whom we’d known since 1970 through American missionaries in Iquitos. Chris had visited us a couple of times and knew the place and the work. When he heard of their plight he volunteered to stay a few weeks alone at Tigre Playa until we returned. He helped with various tasks despite speaking little Spanish. Our parents, several friends, and we met the Wilhelms at Fornebu in Oslo. After a couple of days in Oslo they flew on to Alta. Filadelfia in Alta was their sending congregation, and friends there had built a house the family could use while in Norway between terms in Peru.
The year in Norway is drawing to a close.
|
Despite some early difficulties, our year at home became a pleasant and memorable time. The children reveled in long summer days—camping in tents at gatherings and on excursions. We spent the holidays with my parents and relatives at the cabin by Tinnsjøen, and with my sister Kari and her family in Rjukan and Atrå. We also visited Gransherad, where John’s parents rented a small house high on the hillside. Those were happy memories for both children and adults.
In the final week before our return to Peru, we spent the winter break with John’s parents and my mother in the house at Gransherad. We savored skiing and sledding in the deep snow and spent the evenings by the stove with games and friendly contests—precious days before another long parting. 
|
|
Remembering the last time we left for Peru in 1972
As we were preparing for the trip back to Peru, our minds returned to the last time we left Norway, in the summer of 1972. Then our trip went from Oslo to Peru via Miami and Honduras. In Miami, we stayed a couple of nights with the parents of missionary Mario Fumero, whom we’d met the year before at Lisbeth and Mario’s wedding in Halden. They showed us the city; the children and we were wide‑eyed at all we saw. From Miami, we flew to Tegucigalpa, where Lisbeth and Mario had begun their work in that poor Central American country. It was a joy to see them again and to meet their little daughter Elisabeth, only a few months old. Before heading on to Peru, we joined Mario at a pastors’ and missionaries’ conference of the Asamblea de Dios in the coastal town of La Lima; afterward, he drove us to the nearby San Pedro airport, and we flew to Lima with a change in Panama. That trip was full of pleasant, memorable experiences. The trip we were about to take would turn out quite different!
Departure with Aeroflot via Moscow to Peru
We had booked our journey back to Peru with the Russian airline, Aeroflot. When we heard about their cheap tickets, we felt it would be good for the congregation not to incur a large expense for our trip back to Peru. However, the trip via Leningrad to Moscow was not without surprises and problems—stories I’ll skip here—suffice to say that we endured a nerve‑wracking day and night in Leningrad before, almost miraculously, being put on a plane to Moscow. That got us to Moscow in time for our scheduled flight to Lima. That flight only went once a week! We dare not imagine what would have happened if we’d missed that flight.
Our Aeroflot flight from Moscow to Lima went smoothly. There was a refueling stop in Havana, Cuba, where we were handed a tiny cup of very sweet, very strong Cuban coffee while waiting by the runway. We felt enormous relief and joy to set foot in Lima after such a long journey. We stayed a few days at Wycliffe’s guesthouse to sort out travel papers and onward arrangements. The work we had done in Lima a year ago, before we left for Norway, proved valuable; this time we needed only a few days there. We had tickets from Lima to Pucallpa, the town close to Yarinacocha, the Wycliffe base. There was chaos and delay at the Lima airport, but at last we took off, one and a half days later than scheduled!
The journey to Tigre Playa via Pucallpa and Yarinacocha
At Yarina, we were welcomed by dear friends—especially the pilots and their families that we already knew. Bible translators John and Sheila Tuggy treated us to supper, and we sat late into the evening recalling shared experiences among the Chapra and Kandozi peoples and the time they had lived in our house while we were in Norway. They were deeply grateful for the chance to work quietly on the translation so close to the Kandozi villages.
The weather was good the next day. With all our luggage and two Awajún teachers, we were packed into a small twin‑engine “land plane” bound for the military strip at Barranca. The children and I had never flown in anything so small; the Twin Otters we’d grown used to between Iquitos and other towns were much larger. In the years ahead, we would take even tinier single‑engine flights, and I still remember the first time we hit a rain squall—sheer rattling and bouncing—but nothing went wrong.
After a couple of hours, we spied the Marañón and Tigre Playa ahead and made a low circle over the village. Chris stood outside our house, waving. The pilot banked toward Barranca, dropped onto the dirt runway, and bounced across the grassy strip until the plane rolled to a stop. Chris sent one of the young men by speedboat to fetch us. It was a half-hour speedboat trip from Tigre Playa to Barranca, so while we waited, the base commander invited us for coffee; soldiers carried our bags down the steps to the river, where the boat was tied. After half an hour on the river in pouring rain, we pulled up at the landing outside our house.
Chris was overjoyed to see us—those had been long weeks alone in the house. His limited Spanish had made local contact difficult, though he had attended every meeting and, with occasional help, managed the cooking. For us, it was a relief to be back after the year in Norway; we felt refreshed and ready for the work and challenges of our upcoming third term in Peru.
As we were preparing for the trip back to Peru, our minds returned to the last time we left Norway, in the summer of 1972. Then our trip went from Oslo to Peru via Miami and Honduras. In Miami, we stayed a couple of nights with the parents of missionary Mario Fumero, whom we’d met the year before at Lisbeth and Mario’s wedding in Halden. They showed us the city; the children and we were wide‑eyed at all we saw. From Miami, we flew to Tegucigalpa, where Lisbeth and Mario had begun their work in that poor Central American country. It was a joy to see them again and to meet their little daughter Elisabeth, only a few months old. Before heading on to Peru, we joined Mario at a pastors’ and missionaries’ conference of the Asamblea de Dios in the coastal town of La Lima; afterward, he drove us to the nearby San Pedro airport, and we flew to Lima with a change in Panama. That trip was full of pleasant, memorable experiences. The trip we were about to take would turn out quite different!
Departure with Aeroflot via Moscow to Peru
We had booked our journey back to Peru with the Russian airline, Aeroflot. When we heard about their cheap tickets, we felt it would be good for the congregation not to incur a large expense for our trip back to Peru. However, the trip via Leningrad to Moscow was not without surprises and problems—stories I’ll skip here—suffice to say that we endured a nerve‑wracking day and night in Leningrad before, almost miraculously, being put on a plane to Moscow. That got us to Moscow in time for our scheduled flight to Lima. That flight only went once a week! We dare not imagine what would have happened if we’d missed that flight.
Our Aeroflot flight from Moscow to Lima went smoothly. There was a refueling stop in Havana, Cuba, where we were handed a tiny cup of very sweet, very strong Cuban coffee while waiting by the runway. We felt enormous relief and joy to set foot in Lima after such a long journey. We stayed a few days at Wycliffe’s guesthouse to sort out travel papers and onward arrangements. The work we had done in Lima a year ago, before we left for Norway, proved valuable; this time we needed only a few days there. We had tickets from Lima to Pucallpa, the town close to Yarinacocha, the Wycliffe base. There was chaos and delay at the Lima airport, but at last we took off, one and a half days later than scheduled!
The journey to Tigre Playa via Pucallpa and Yarinacocha
At Yarina, we were welcomed by dear friends—especially the pilots and their families that we already knew. Bible translators John and Sheila Tuggy treated us to supper, and we sat late into the evening recalling shared experiences among the Chapra and Kandozi peoples and the time they had lived in our house while we were in Norway. They were deeply grateful for the chance to work quietly on the translation so close to the Kandozi villages.
The weather was good the next day. With all our luggage and two Awajún teachers, we were packed into a small twin‑engine “land plane” bound for the military strip at Barranca. The children and I had never flown in anything so small; the Twin Otters we’d grown used to between Iquitos and other towns were much larger. In the years ahead, we would take even tinier single‑engine flights, and I still remember the first time we hit a rain squall—sheer rattling and bouncing—but nothing went wrong.
After a couple of hours, we spied the Marañón and Tigre Playa ahead and made a low circle over the village. Chris stood outside our house, waving. The pilot banked toward Barranca, dropped onto the dirt runway, and bounced across the grassy strip until the plane rolled to a stop. Chris sent one of the young men by speedboat to fetch us. It was a half-hour speedboat trip from Tigre Playa to Barranca, so while we waited, the base commander invited us for coffee; soldiers carried our bags down the steps to the river, where the boat was tied. After half an hour on the river in pouring rain, we pulled up at the landing outside our house.
Chris was overjoyed to see us—those had been long weeks alone in the house. His limited Spanish had made local contact difficult, though he had attended every meeting and, with occasional help, managed the cooking. For us, it was a relief to be back after the year in Norway; we felt refreshed and ready for the work and challenges of our upcoming third term in Peru.