Next week, my wife, Kristin (Luna) Canter, leaves to lead her fourth retreat in Peru. Every time one of our groups heads there, my mind drifts back. Peru is one of my favorite countries in the world, and it remains one of the most popular and profound destinations we have the privilege of hosting. This time of year, as we turn toward gratitude and giving back, one memory in particular keeps rising to the surface.
A few years ago, I traveled to Peru with my entire family on a service and adventure trip, part of an intergenerational youth and family program. Traveling abroad with your family is always a stretch. Traveling somewhere that pushes past your cultural norms, with young children along, is something else entirely. High elevations. Remote rural villages. Long days of walking and hiking. Time with indigenous communities whose way of life is very different from our own. And on this trip, the chance to be of service.
The road to the school
One afternoon, we headed up into the mountains to visit a very rural school. Our bus labored up the winding road, and when it could go no farther, we climbed out and walked the rest of the way: down a steep road, then along a short and even steeper trail.
The school was built right into the mountainside, surrounded by the massive peaks the Quechua people call the Apus, their sacred mountains. It was simple: two small rooms and a small patch of land carved flat along the hillside.
We walked in slowly and mindfully, full of curiosity. My daughters and the young people in our group took everything in with wide open eyes. As the children saw us arrive, their eyes were just as open and curious, lit up with joy and excitement at having visitors who had come so far into the Andes to see them.
A connection without words
The children spoke Quechua and some Spanish, but no English, and most of our group spoke only English. There were almost no words we could share.
It didn't matter. Eye contact and smiles were enough to create a sense of connection and community that everyone could feel. We spent several minutes together before the children headed back inside for class.
Digging in
Travel also has a way of bringing people together quickly.
When we experience something new alongside other people, we create a shared story. It's why friendships can form so naturally while traveling and why some of our favorite memories aren't necessarily about where we were, but who was beside us.
On retreat, we see this happen all the time.
People arrive from different places and backgrounds. Then they practice together, share meals, explore somewhere new, laugh through unexpected moments, and have conversations they may never have made time for at home.
By the end of the week, the destination isn't the only thing they'll remember.
They'll remember the people who experienced it with them.
What stays with us
Moments like these are profound on every level. They bring connection. They bring gratitude. They turn travelers into global ambassadors. And they offer some of the deepest education there is: discovering our own true nature by exploring the world and witnessing lives being changed.
These are the moments that stay etched in our hearts and minds forever. This season, as we reflect on what we're grateful for, I keep returning to that small school on the hillside beneath the Apus. I am so grateful for this work we continue to get to do, and for every leader, participant, and community partner who makes it possible.