God's Little Reminders

For those who don't know, my parents came to visit me last week. 

It was an interesting experience.

It was really fun to get to take a bit of a break and see things I've gotten used to through new eyes. It was also really nice to pretend that I wasn't in Russia and be a tourist for a while. I mean, obviously I'm still in Russia, but while they were here, I could kind of let go of the constant underlying stress that goes along with living here. 

I even got to stay at the hotel for a few nights, sleeping on the most comfortable rollaway bed I've ever experienced.(And trust me, I've experienced quite a few rollaway beds in my time.) But unfortunately, like all good things, it came to an end. 

Then I had culture shock. 

I know, right? It's really strange to think about. When my parents came it was strange because they were doing things that would've been fine in American culture, but were out of context in Russia. When they left it was like a slap in the face. *SMACK!* HEY! YOU LIVE IN RUSSIA DUMMY!

The hardest thing was going back to my room. Because now matter how you look at it, I'm living in someone else's house. What's even more difficult is that my landlady has had one of her daughters and two grandchildren staying there for the past week or so. This kind of changes the atmosphere of the apartment and strange people always cause me stress. 

So I'm at this point where I'm like "How am I going to be able to go back to living here for the next four months?" I don't *want* to live here for the next four months. I was really cranky about it the last two days too. *Grumblegrumble*yeahit'sherapartmentbutIwanteveryonetojustgoawayandleavemealone.

Yesterday I'm hanging up laundry in the hall and the little boy is playing with the silverware and his mom is alternately cooking dinner and screaming at him. You think I'm exaggerating. It's like the woman has two volumes. Screaming and super quiet. I mean, I can understand her being frustrated with the kid, but first he's just little and second your screaming is really unnecessary. 

I had an appointment this morning and when I came back my landlady and the guests were up. The little grandson stared at me as I came in and took off my jacket. My landlady reassured him and was like "Say hello to Auntie", but it was clear he was rather terrified of me. In Russia, any unknown man or woman are automatically called "Aunt" or "Uncle" by children. Older men and women are "Grandmother" and "Grandfather." I really enjoy getting to be an aunt of sorts.

In preparation to go to English group I pulled down half my laundry and put it away and was coming back for the second half when the little boy kicked a ball at me. I spent the next few minutes kicking it around with him while he just giggled and giggled. Apparently he got over his terror. (I'm also beginning to think God gave me a weird spiritual gift for children which is funny 'cause I'm not a huge kid person) So there we are playing a bit until his toddler attention span kicks off and away he goes. 

I finished getting ready and I leave my room to get my jacket and shoes on. While I'm standing there my new little friend shows up again, babbling incomprehensibly. The next thing I know, he pulls his jacket off the shelf and holds it up for me to help him into it. Little guy wanted to go with him. I explained that he needed to stay home and he disappeared into my landlady's room. I finished getting my stuff and just as I was closing the door behind me I hear a little voice go "AUNTIE!"

Today was a reminder. Even though I've been frustrated with the people in the apartment and living there, as I was pulling my laundry off the line there was something very comforting about my landlady's daughter greeting me as she came out of the bathroom, the sound of cartoons from the TV and people just getting ready for the day. There was joy in just taking a few minutes to play ball with a little boy. I don't know the details of his family or home, know he's probably too young to even remember me when I leave, but I do know that maybe, in a tiny way today I made an impression on his life. A young woman who took a moment to play with him. 

Victory Day

I can't exactly explain why, but Victory Day (День Победы) is my favorite Russian holiday. Perhaps it's the events or the atmosphere that hangs over the city and the people. I don't know, but I know it's a thrilling experience.

Victory Day takes place every year on May 9th and is a celebration of the end of WWII. Perhaps I like the holiday because people seem to really appreciate it. Not that we don't appreciate and honor our veterans in the States, but Russia lost so many people during World War II and I feel like people here still really strongly think about and remember it.

In any case, I was blessed to get to experience the parade honoring veterans that ran along Nevsky Prospekt with Luka, Natasha and Ira. Below is a four minute video of clips I took that day.

The Youth Exchange Club

Because of various connections, I've gotten the chance to interact and share my knowledge with several students who are planning trips to Russia. It's something I very much enjoy. It's kind of funny though because I was thinking about how, as a Rotary Youth Exchange student it's like you're part of this exclusive club.

Like being a Freemason or something.

I mean we have our secret greetings we use:
Person 1: "Yeah, I was a Rotary exchange student."
Person 2: "Really!? Me too! 6650 to 5010, Russia 07-08"

The District you came from, the district you went to, the country and years.

We even have our own little signs and symbols in the form of the pins we collect for our jackets.

I guess I never fully appreciated what Rotary has created with their exchange program. The goal is to make people more aware of the global community. This is accomplished when you spend ten months living with a new family, in a new country with a new language. Yet it's so much more than that.

I will never forget a trip I took to the chiropractor last summer. After getting my adjustment I found myself in a massage chair next to a woman slightly younger than my mother. Before us was a TV showing scenes from France. The woman and I struck up a conversation about travel and I mentioned that I was getting ready to move to Russia. She thought that was interesting and then mentioned she had been an exchange student with Rotary to Brazil in the 70s. Just like that we had a connection.

So how do I express it in words? It's about culture. Of course it is, but in creating this program Rotary has, in fact, created a global community. A global community of shared experiences. I can travel anywhere, do anything, meet people and as soon as the words "I was an exchange student with Rotary" cross their lips, no matter the language, an understanding passes between you. An understanding that says "I've been there too, I understand." An understanding that transcends not only cultures, but transcends generations, economic situation, profession, religion, race or family background. An understanding born of shared experiences.

And only now, four years after my exchange, have I fully come to appreciate and realize this. I am proud and honored to be a part of it. Thank you, Rotary!

Leavings and Comings

I've been thinking a lot lately. I mean, I think anyway, but in this case I'm talking about thinking in a philosophical sense. Maybe I should've used the word "Philosophizing..."

In any case, I've been having these thoughts. See, it's like any time you go overseas you get to this point where you're comfortable with where you are. The unordinary becomes ordinary. You're able to live, survive, continue. You're comfortable and content. There's also this point where you hit the "downhill" of living overseas. Because I have spent a year at a time living in Russia, these two events usually somewhat coincide.

Then you also have this point where you've been gone long enough that big events back home have occurred that might make it slightly strange to return. What's really fun is when this happens at the same time as the previously mentioned events.

The result is a kind of neurotic feeling. Okay, not quite.

Six months.

That's when everything has come together and started falling apart this trip. Six months to get used to the city. Six months to feel comfortable here. Six months for things back home to change. Six months and you're leaving. With six months to go all these thought were triggered by a phone call from my parents, telling me the preacher from my family's church and his family are moving. In July. I won't be home.

Suddenly a deluge of questions pours from you. "What's it going to be like when I go home? What about my life here? Who's going to do the things I'm doing? What about my friends here? What about my friends back home? I only have so much time left, how am I going to make the most of it? Should I come back? Should I do something else? It's going to be so strange back home. How are people going to view me? Will I feel alienated? Isolated? Alone? What about the reverse culture shock?"

And even though you've been through this before. Even though your brain tells you logically "Things change but some things don't. They won't understand but you'll survive. You'll figure out what you need to be doing. It will all work out, it always does." Your emotions get all twisted up and start sucking you into this strange, almost panicky black hole of void within yourself. So you keep yourself busy and decide not to think of it. Sometimes avoiding is the best way to deal with things.

Two Sundays ago, my phone rang in the middle of Bible class. I quickly grabbed my purse and dashed out of the zal, trying to figure out who would be calling me since pretty much everyone I speak to on the phone on a regular basis were sitting in the zal I had just vacated.

When I looked at the caller ID I discovered it was a woman I met when I was doing presentations at the American Corners. I had walked with her a bit and even had a semi-spiritual conversation with her so I was quite pleased to see her name come up.

"Allo?" I answered.
"Abigail? I'm calling to find out where exactly on the 6th line your church building is."
"Ah! It is yellow building. There is written "Church of Christ on Neva." Door at back."
"Do you enter from the courtyard?"
This confused me because we don't have a courtyard like some buildings do.
"Entrance at back."
"So you enter from the courtyard?"
"Yes. Third floor"

A few minutes later I saw her coming and was waiting for her when she came up the stairs. We greeted each other.

"I'm sorry, we change time of starting. Now is 11 not 12."

That didn't seem to bother her. In fact as we began to chat, I became infinitely disappointed that she had not actually come for church, but instead to track me down. She told me that she wanted to work on her English more and asked about an English group. I explained about the group we have on Thursdays at noon.
"That's no good" she said. "I work on Thursdays."
"I do individual study"
"When?"
"When is convenient for you?"

I then invited her to come to Bible class. She agreed but "only for a few minutes."

We went into the zal and sat in the back where she proceeded with a deluge of questions. I did my best to answer them. They included things about what kind of church this was, who these people were, why were they gathered. She wanted to know if there were other Americans and I pointed out Joel. She then wanted to know if he had Russian citizenship. My favorite question by far though was
"Why bother coming together when you can just read the chapters at home?"
"Well, that is point. We read chapter at home then discuss here because many peoples have ideas and it help to discuss them."

After maybe ten or fifteen minutes in Bible class, she said she needed to go and we made an exit from the zal. She then asked a few more questions about the building and so I took her on a tour, explained about the institute, the kitchen and so on. Even though I knew she was big into English I still was hoping she would come for some of the events we have here.

"We have study of Bible on Monday" I told her.
"Is it in English?"
"No, Russian. We also have discussion group Fridays"
"Is it in English?"
"No."
"Why is everything here in Russian."
Mentally I was like "Seriously?" However, I handled myself well.
"Because most peoples in church are Russian. So we are speaking Russian Language."

We chatted for another couple of minutes and then she headed out.

Monday night, Oleg and I were talking about people being interested in English before Bible study. I told him this story and expressed my thoughts on her questions. He then explained to me that some people associate missionaries at churches only with English. He then told me a story about how he was preaching at a church in the 90s and a man stopped him and asked who he was. Oleg repeated his name. The man said "No, I mean are you the interpreter or what?" When Oleg explained that no, he was the preacher the man was astonished. I guess the church had been around for five or six years and in that time, the man had never heard a sermon that wasn't being translated from English.

He also told me about a man who preaches at a Baptist church. His sermons are translated into English for the foreigners in the audience. Yet there are still people who think the translation is going the other way.

It's just kind of interesting. It's an issue you don't see in American churches. I think it also says something about how important it is that there are training programs and such for the leaders of Russian churches. 

See Abigail Sing: A Children's Story

Meet Abigail.
Abigail lives in Russia.
Russia is a big country.
See Abigail sing.
Sing, Abigail, Sing!
Abigail sings alto.
Abigail sings in Russian
Abigail does not know alto.
Do not ask her to sing alto in a song she does not know.
Do not ask her to sing alto for any songs in English.
Abigail does know Russian.
Yay Abigail!

See the choir.
Abigail sings with the choir.
Abigail used to be the only alto who came to choir regularly.
She sang and sang.
See the choir prepare for their performances.
The choir will go to Minsk!
Abigail wanted to go to Minsk.
But she needs a visa.

See Abigail look up consulate information.
See Abigail try to get help with documents
See the time pass.
See the choir try to help Abigail with her visa.
Abigail is tired of thinking about visas in any country.
Some people think Abigail needs a letter of invitation.
Some people think she does not.
Does Abigail need a letter of invitation?
Yes! Yes she does!

Abigail finds this out ten days before the choir leaves.
Abigail decides not to go to Minsk.
But people want Abigail to go to Minsk.
They continue trying to help her get a visa.
Abigail needs stamps in her passport proving she has left Russia.
They do not do stamp passports at the Belorussian border.
Abigail will not go to Minsk.
She will go to Estonia.
She does not need a visa for Estonia.
Abigail is kind of okay with that.

The World Premiere

A month or so ago Luke pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to sing alto for an ensemble that she and Igor (One of our preachers) were trying to create. Apparently all the other altos they'd talked to were busy or weren't in-shape singing wise. I was quite honored to be asked and so I agreed.

It was a very interesting life choice.

I actually enjoy the ensemble more than I do choir. I'm not sure if it's the music, or the people involved, or the challenge. Let me tell you what, the ensemble has been a challenge. For those of you who don't know, singing as one of four people is completely different than singing with a group. Just saying. If I thought it was hard just being in choir, this is more intense.

Again, not only do I have to memorize songs in Russian, Alto parts, and correct singing posture and breathing, but also some of the songs we sing in ensemble are a lot more complex than what we sing in choir. In addition, (This is partly because we only had a month to prepare for the Easter season) we had to learn the parts quickly and we have to make sure they sound good. In choir if you don't know the part, you can just not sing as loud and it's okay, but in the ensemble, every part counts.

Having said all that, today was a big day for our little quartet. It was our first performance. We were invited to go to a hospice for children with cancer and sing for them. Originally there were supposed to be five children there, but some were away so there were only two. We thought about rescheduling but then decided since we had planned on it, we should go. So we did.

It was worth the trip. At first, it was a little awkward. I think the staff and kids were a little wary of us and I know, I was a little wary of them. I'd been nervous ahead of time because I'm not good with very ill people, hospitals, nursing homes, things of that nature and so I wasn't quite sure what to expect at the hospice. It was a nice place though, a big three story house that felt nothing like any of the above-mentioned places. It was even hard to believe that the kids we met belonged in hospice.

My adrenaline was up as well because of the whole performance thing. There were some places that I messed up, pretty badly. But the important thing was that we were there and we were singing. By the end of it, I was more relaxed and the singing came easier.

We sang for about twenty minutes, then we took pictures and then we had chai. One of the kids who was there today was a 14 year old girl named Sasha. It was really fun to get to talk with her. She seemed interested in the fact that I was American and had some questions for me. I forget that it's kind of an interesting thing to be a foreigner since the people at church have gotten to know me, and I've gotten used to being here so I don't really feel foreign. We took gifts for the kids as well. Little candy bouquets and Easter Chicks that Luka's roommate made, and then we took them each a little craft kit as something fun for them to do.

Our little group was very well pleased with the way things went and we hope we were able to bless the kids and the staff at the hospice. I know being able to sing for them was definitely a blessing and encouragement for me.

We're planning on going back next Friday when hopefully the rest of the kids will be there.