2-18-2010
From the time my plane landed in Kazakhstan I never went a day without blogging. That changed these past few days. I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I have been distracted with the big picture God is trying to show me. Well, He is at least taunting me with it, because we all know that He never just shows any of us the big picture. But, He is good and He is guiding. I am just trying to get a better grasp on life and of course, help Him do His job (I don’t know about you, but that is something I love to do). I also discovered that I am a compulsive planner, to the point where I can get freakishly obsessive. However, more information on that will have to come at a later time. Let me give you a recap of this week:
Sunday was an amazing day. It was one of those relaxing days (the kind we have every day) but it finished with a glorious occasion. Three men from the General conference Euro-Asian Division of SDA’s came to Almaty and decided to take us out to Pizza Hut. When we got to Pizza Hut they told us they couldn’t seat a group as large as ours and we were all disappointed that we were going to have to go somewhere else. But, hope prevailed and they moved a party just so we could sit together, except we were still kind of divided. They told us to order what we want because the division was paying. Normally when people buy me a meal, I try to be very modest and just order the necessities. All of us SMs looked at each other with shear thrill in our eyes and I knew that modesty was to be thrown out the window. This is American food we’re talking about. So after some spinach rolls, a glass of Pepsi, too much veggie pizza, a bite from the Intergalactic salad bar (you have to see it to understand), and a couple cappuccinos, I wiped the crumbs from my face and beamed with satisfaction. But, the night wasn’t over. We grabbed our coats and went over to the Center (where Steven and I teach) and we had some interrogation time. I don’t mean that it was scary or intimidating because all of these men were bursting with positive spirits and you could tell by being in their presence that they were looking after our best interests. So we told them about the joys of Kazakhstan and shared briefly the troubles we are having. I’m still praying that God handles the little situations here and puts out all the little fires. Anyways, after coming home on Sunday I got to talk to a few people from home and that always puts a smile on my face. Sunday was a happy day.
Monday and Tuesday were pretty typical. I stayed up way too late compulsively planning the rest of my life and so I ended up waking up way too late and the days seemed to be very short. I haven’t had very much peace the last couple days, but God and I have been working on a little project and even though it kind of throws everything in the air, I have secretly been enjoying the newness and excitement. What I remember most about Monday is the lack of patience I had with all my students. I scared my kids because I had to make a very loud noise to get their attention and I almost strangled a couple of my older students because they were making simple mistakes. Being a teacher requires patience, and patience is not a permanent thing that you carry with you every day.
Today the girls came over and we scrounged up some pasta and beans and finally broke into the tomato sauce that Gina gave us. We would have prepared something a little more elaborate, but we were just about out of groceries and the secretaries left yesterday without giving us our lunch money. So broke and out of groceries, we called the girls and together we improvised. Yelena joined us and it was fun as usual. Spirits are not necessarily high right now, but you can’t expect them to stay high all the time. Even optimism needs to get off its tippy toes and rest sometimes.
I feel like a child again. I feel clueless, small, and sometimes even afraid of the complexity of my existence. I sometimes cower at the intensity of life, but even in the cowering I am smiling. My choleric personality secretly loves to worry and plan new things, and I know that God didn’t just bring me around the world for no reason. He had something to say, and I can be a pretty bad listener. So He is revealing new things to me little by little. The Message puts this part of Ephesians 2 in a way that really makes the text come alive. Consider this: “Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. Saving is all his idea, and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It's God's gift from start to finish!”
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Testify to Love
2-13-2010
Another Sabbath, another week gone by. Today was a good day. I got to talk to a few good people in the morning via Skype. Then we got ready for church and took off. Yelena had asked me last week to share my testimony. To tell the church how I had come to know Jesus and what not. I was also supposed to be in charge of Sabbath school. When we got to church Yelena told us that the preacher who was scheduled to come preach would not be here. She asked us if anyone could prepare a message in the short time we had before the service. I told her that I was already giving my testimony and that I have some sermons memorized so I could. Burnie also said he could and because both of us didn’t really care either way, we fumbled over it for a few minutes until it was decided that I would preach and Burnie would take next week. So I got in front of the church today, talked about my experience with God and then gave a short message on my favorite passage, John 15:9-12. I talked about the incredible love Jesus has for us, how to remain in that amazing love, and how He commanded us to love each other with the heaven’s love. I’ve talked about that passage in numerous sermons and have given numerous Bible studies on it, but still, every time I talk about it I am newly amazed at God. I think I needed this today, I think I needed to share my testimony and be reminded of how God has worked in my life. It was good for me and where I am at right now.
Everyone had stuff going on tonight so the rest of the night Steven and I spent at our apartment being lazy. I cooked up some stir fry with corn (If you think that’s weird Steven made what I call Bean Burrito Spaghetti for lunch which actually turned out to be quite good, it was made up of beans, cheese, and spaghetti). After that we planned to watch Lord of the Rings 2, but we had problems so we watched House and the internet gave us more problems and irritated me. But, after sitting on my rear for a couple hours, eating some good food and even having ice cream, I feel good.
Another Sabbath, another week gone by. Today was a good day. I got to talk to a few good people in the morning via Skype. Then we got ready for church and took off. Yelena had asked me last week to share my testimony. To tell the church how I had come to know Jesus and what not. I was also supposed to be in charge of Sabbath school. When we got to church Yelena told us that the preacher who was scheduled to come preach would not be here. She asked us if anyone could prepare a message in the short time we had before the service. I told her that I was already giving my testimony and that I have some sermons memorized so I could. Burnie also said he could and because both of us didn’t really care either way, we fumbled over it for a few minutes until it was decided that I would preach and Burnie would take next week. So I got in front of the church today, talked about my experience with God and then gave a short message on my favorite passage, John 15:9-12. I talked about the incredible love Jesus has for us, how to remain in that amazing love, and how He commanded us to love each other with the heaven’s love. I’ve talked about that passage in numerous sermons and have given numerous Bible studies on it, but still, every time I talk about it I am newly amazed at God. I think I needed this today, I think I needed to share my testimony and be reminded of how God has worked in my life. It was good for me and where I am at right now.
Everyone had stuff going on tonight so the rest of the night Steven and I spent at our apartment being lazy. I cooked up some stir fry with corn (If you think that’s weird Steven made what I call Bean Burrito Spaghetti for lunch which actually turned out to be quite good, it was made up of beans, cheese, and spaghetti). After that we planned to watch Lord of the Rings 2, but we had problems so we watched House and the internet gave us more problems and irritated me. But, after sitting on my rear for a couple hours, eating some good food and even having ice cream, I feel good.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Father Abraham Had Many Sons
2-12-2010
Fridays are usually nice days. Usually then involve laundry, grocery shopping, and maybe some grading. Today we went grocery shopping, but I never got to laundry and I had nothing to grade. I woke up semi-early, at least it was semi-early for me. We went to the bazaar today and I’ve been practicing my Russian numbers so I felt like I was a little more competent. We bought sparingly because we’re poor. Today we got a package from Campus Ministries! Some of the things inside the package I found a bit odd, but it’s always nice to get some familiar things from home, especially chewy sweet tarts.
The main event of today was Friday club. It was a good Friday club. Emily’s computer broke down so she couldn’t type up her regular dialogue and we didn’t have the movie so I couldn’t do it either. Luckily, Yelena had all these ideas about things we could talk about and activities we could do. After preparing a few things for Friday club, I watched The Office, and then we ended up being so late we had to practically run all the way to work and yes, it is still far below freezing. However, we got there with plenty of time to spare and everything was set. I felt like a missionary today. I know, I’m a student missionary, but often times I feel like the only mission work I do is make the local conference money. Most of my “mission” is real mission work which means it’s simply allowing God to shine through me in simple and everyday tasks. I’m not a model of Christian character and would gag at the thought of someone holding me to that esteem, but here it is about all I can do, and I think God is ok with that. But, tonight was good. We split up into groups and talked about the White Witch who calls herself the Queen of Narnia. We talked about evil and what it is. I realized today that everyone, no matter what part of the world you’re in, everyone thinks about God. Nobody can escape the unanswerable questions of our complex existence. Some people try, but they’re fooling themselves. Regardless of belief or practice, everyone at least thinks about God. Yelena pulled quotes out of the Bible and the Quran and we discussed certain aspects of evil and tried to fill in the blanks to some of these quotes without knowing. My group was filling in a blank that said, “Do not repay evil with evil, but rather trust in________________________.” I of course treaded lightly. I am not here to convert everyone I meet, far from it. I am here to try to understand these people and maybe get them thinking about spiritual matters. The people of my group started saying things like “destiny” and “fate” and I encouraged them to be more specific and think about what abstract terms like destiny and fate really mean. Within no time at all they came up with “God.” I looked at everyone to see if they agreed and sure enough everyone there nodded their head in approval. Yesterday in discussion we talked about health and I couldn’t help but pull out the Adventist NEWSTART acronym on them. The “T” stands for trust in God and sure enough everyone in that group nodded their head and vocally approved that trusting in God is very important.
Muslims and Christians really are not that far apart. The problem is the West is completely ignorant of Islam and the East is completely ignorant of Protestant Christianity. It’s sad really, that we misunderstand each other so badly. I, as an ignorant Westerner, have long wondered why true Muslims do not speak out more forcefully against the radicals and try to clear up their “terrorist” reputation. I thought certainly if Christians got radical like that I would be fighting against them and doing everything possible to try and take God’s name off their actions. Christians were once “radical” and “violent” like some Muslims are today. Read about the crusades. This made sense to me today for the first time. The conclusion that I came up with while talking to Yelena (who studies the Quran and Muslims very thoroughly) is this: the reason most Muslims aren’t fighting radicalism is because they simply don’t care enough to get involved. Islam is younger than Christianity by quite a bit. It is a religion and like Christianity, it has and will change more and more as time passes—all religions do. Christianity took over the Western world some hundreds of years after Christ went back home and left us with His Spirit. When Christianity was in charge we called it “The Dark Ages.” Catholicism ruled with a golden scepter and it wasn’t until Martin Luther came along that Christianity actually began (notice I say began) to go back to what Jesus intended it to be. We hear all these things about how Islam is the fastest growing religion and so I thought it would be interesting to look into their “evangelism” tactics. Do you know what they do? They basically tell people, your culture was once Muslim and you need to turn back to your roots. People do, they exclaim the Shahada and start to engage in cultural/religious practices. It’s simple. Now don’t take this the wrong way, especially if you are a Muslim or closely related to Islam, I mean no disrespect. But, Islam is in its “Dark Ages” and yes, they have a few wild horses running around, but it is not as gruesome as the Christian dark ages. It’s like in America, many people (more in the past than today, after all religion is constantly changing) call themselves Christian because that is what most Americans are and our country was founded on Judeo-Christian values and what not. It is the same with Islam. Most Kazakhs I meet are not hardcore Muslims and they will politely admit this to you. They are mostly nominal and they know it. Like America and Christianity. And Islam is filled with many rituals that seem radical for our day and many practices which seem foreign to us Westerners. They are in their ritualistic phase, just like Catholicism in the Dark Ages. I know this sounds bad, especially if you are Catholic, Muslim, or a nominal Christian, but it’s quite true. All I know is that the Quran says beautiful things, many Christians are ignorant of this, but I don’t blame them, because many Muslims are ignorant of this as well and that is why we continue to swim in this pool of unawareness. All I know is that my God is big, too big for cultural differences, too big for religious divides, and too big for my sins and shortcomings to stand in His presence. My God loves, He loves all people, even the ignorant, even the radical. How do I know this? I won’t try to convince you logically because you probably would either find error in the logic or fall asleep. I know this because I have experienced it, I have lived, and this world, this creation, these people scream with evidence of a loving Creator. Yes, something has gone terribly wrong and evil exists, but I know that pretty soon all these walls we have built will crumble and we will live completely naked and completely unashamed in a beautiful place worth living.
Fridays are usually nice days. Usually then involve laundry, grocery shopping, and maybe some grading. Today we went grocery shopping, but I never got to laundry and I had nothing to grade. I woke up semi-early, at least it was semi-early for me. We went to the bazaar today and I’ve been practicing my Russian numbers so I felt like I was a little more competent. We bought sparingly because we’re poor. Today we got a package from Campus Ministries! Some of the things inside the package I found a bit odd, but it’s always nice to get some familiar things from home, especially chewy sweet tarts.
The main event of today was Friday club. It was a good Friday club. Emily’s computer broke down so she couldn’t type up her regular dialogue and we didn’t have the movie so I couldn’t do it either. Luckily, Yelena had all these ideas about things we could talk about and activities we could do. After preparing a few things for Friday club, I watched The Office, and then we ended up being so late we had to practically run all the way to work and yes, it is still far below freezing. However, we got there with plenty of time to spare and everything was set. I felt like a missionary today. I know, I’m a student missionary, but often times I feel like the only mission work I do is make the local conference money. Most of my “mission” is real mission work which means it’s simply allowing God to shine through me in simple and everyday tasks. I’m not a model of Christian character and would gag at the thought of someone holding me to that esteem, but here it is about all I can do, and I think God is ok with that. But, tonight was good. We split up into groups and talked about the White Witch who calls herself the Queen of Narnia. We talked about evil and what it is. I realized today that everyone, no matter what part of the world you’re in, everyone thinks about God. Nobody can escape the unanswerable questions of our complex existence. Some people try, but they’re fooling themselves. Regardless of belief or practice, everyone at least thinks about God. Yelena pulled quotes out of the Bible and the Quran and we discussed certain aspects of evil and tried to fill in the blanks to some of these quotes without knowing. My group was filling in a blank that said, “Do not repay evil with evil, but rather trust in________________________.” I of course treaded lightly. I am not here to convert everyone I meet, far from it. I am here to try to understand these people and maybe get them thinking about spiritual matters. The people of my group started saying things like “destiny” and “fate” and I encouraged them to be more specific and think about what abstract terms like destiny and fate really mean. Within no time at all they came up with “God.” I looked at everyone to see if they agreed and sure enough everyone there nodded their head in approval. Yesterday in discussion we talked about health and I couldn’t help but pull out the Adventist NEWSTART acronym on them. The “T” stands for trust in God and sure enough everyone in that group nodded their head and vocally approved that trusting in God is very important.
Muslims and Christians really are not that far apart. The problem is the West is completely ignorant of Islam and the East is completely ignorant of Protestant Christianity. It’s sad really, that we misunderstand each other so badly. I, as an ignorant Westerner, have long wondered why true Muslims do not speak out more forcefully against the radicals and try to clear up their “terrorist” reputation. I thought certainly if Christians got radical like that I would be fighting against them and doing everything possible to try and take God’s name off their actions. Christians were once “radical” and “violent” like some Muslims are today. Read about the crusades. This made sense to me today for the first time. The conclusion that I came up with while talking to Yelena (who studies the Quran and Muslims very thoroughly) is this: the reason most Muslims aren’t fighting radicalism is because they simply don’t care enough to get involved. Islam is younger than Christianity by quite a bit. It is a religion and like Christianity, it has and will change more and more as time passes—all religions do. Christianity took over the Western world some hundreds of years after Christ went back home and left us with His Spirit. When Christianity was in charge we called it “The Dark Ages.” Catholicism ruled with a golden scepter and it wasn’t until Martin Luther came along that Christianity actually began (notice I say began) to go back to what Jesus intended it to be. We hear all these things about how Islam is the fastest growing religion and so I thought it would be interesting to look into their “evangelism” tactics. Do you know what they do? They basically tell people, your culture was once Muslim and you need to turn back to your roots. People do, they exclaim the Shahada and start to engage in cultural/religious practices. It’s simple. Now don’t take this the wrong way, especially if you are a Muslim or closely related to Islam, I mean no disrespect. But, Islam is in its “Dark Ages” and yes, they have a few wild horses running around, but it is not as gruesome as the Christian dark ages. It’s like in America, many people (more in the past than today, after all religion is constantly changing) call themselves Christian because that is what most Americans are and our country was founded on Judeo-Christian values and what not. It is the same with Islam. Most Kazakhs I meet are not hardcore Muslims and they will politely admit this to you. They are mostly nominal and they know it. Like America and Christianity. And Islam is filled with many rituals that seem radical for our day and many practices which seem foreign to us Westerners. They are in their ritualistic phase, just like Catholicism in the Dark Ages. I know this sounds bad, especially if you are Catholic, Muslim, or a nominal Christian, but it’s quite true. All I know is that the Quran says beautiful things, many Christians are ignorant of this, but I don’t blame them, because many Muslims are ignorant of this as well and that is why we continue to swim in this pool of unawareness. All I know is that my God is big, too big for cultural differences, too big for religious divides, and too big for my sins and shortcomings to stand in His presence. My God loves, He loves all people, even the ignorant, even the radical. How do I know this? I won’t try to convince you logically because you probably would either find error in the logic or fall asleep. I know this because I have experienced it, I have lived, and this world, this creation, these people scream with evidence of a loving Creator. Yes, something has gone terribly wrong and evil exists, but I know that pretty soon all these walls we have built will crumble and we will live completely naked and completely unashamed in a beautiful place worth living.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Diving In and Looking Back
2-11-2010
Today went by really quick. Seeing that I didn’t get out of bed until after noon, the day was short. We went to the center an hour early for private tutees. I had mine yesterday so that means that I had an hour to prepare. I loved teaching today, I felt like a real teacher. My level 3 has many new students and a new book and we had a great time talking about two-word verb synonyms (get back, go in, take off) and I never even opened the text book. Then video class was actually fun for the first time. We enjoyed making fun of the 80’s scenes and horrible actors that these ESL videos had. I love teaching and I love my students, most days. Because there was no suffering, no pain, no fear I have nothing really to write about. Today was a pretty normal day and a pretty normal end of the teaching week. I use the word ‘normal’ lightly seeing that I am an English teacher in Kazakhstan.
Instead of keeping it short today I want to share something I wrote when I first got on the plane to head here to Kazakhstan. It’s a made-up anecdote that I was imagining as I was waiting for the plane to take off. I know God orchestrated it, but it was my own imagination set loose. It was not a “vision” just a scene I was imagining that I decided to dramatize in words. I forgot about it with all the nerves and fear of arriving, but I found it today and it was a nice reminder of what I am doing here and where I was before I left, a nice reminder of how I dove into this adventure with love itself:
--
1-13-2010
As the 4 massive jet engines of our airbus began to grumble and whir, preparing to catapult us 36,000 feet in the air, I closed my eyes and met with my Savior. I admitted to Him that I had no idea what I was getting myself into or what to expect. I admitted that my Spiritual life had completely flat lined and that I had no idea what I was doing entering the mission field. Suddenly, my mind took me to a field and my feet were rapidly moving beneath me. As the engines howled louder and louder the faster I was running through this field. Running next to me was my best friend—Jesus. He was running as fast as I was and laughing like He was having the time of His life. He began to yell, “Don’t worry about having no expectations and feeling powerless. Don’t worry about how much you feel connected to me. You are mind, you’re in my arms and I love you. Where you’re at right now—its right where I want you. You without any preconceived notions, in your lost and confused state of mind, it is now that I can use you. Now that you feel you know nothing, I can reveal myself to you without your silly human thoughts getting in the way. Now that you feel lost and powerless I can show you just how powerful I am.” Suddenly the field ran out beneath our feet and Jesus and I were falling from this cliff and the ground was getting closer in front of us. I smiled and shouted, “Jesus, I love you!” He looked at me with proud eyes that erupted with love and said, “I love you.” We both plummeted to the ground beneath us. It was then that I realized the plane was in the air and that my adventures with love itself had begun. I was running, I dove, now I’m free falling ready to hit the ground as long as Jesus is falling alongside me with that sweet smile ready to take down my preconceived notions and put up His true form—the form of love—the form of God.
Today went by really quick. Seeing that I didn’t get out of bed until after noon, the day was short. We went to the center an hour early for private tutees. I had mine yesterday so that means that I had an hour to prepare. I loved teaching today, I felt like a real teacher. My level 3 has many new students and a new book and we had a great time talking about two-word verb synonyms (get back, go in, take off) and I never even opened the text book. Then video class was actually fun for the first time. We enjoyed making fun of the 80’s scenes and horrible actors that these ESL videos had. I love teaching and I love my students, most days. Because there was no suffering, no pain, no fear I have nothing really to write about. Today was a pretty normal day and a pretty normal end of the teaching week. I use the word ‘normal’ lightly seeing that I am an English teacher in Kazakhstan.
Instead of keeping it short today I want to share something I wrote when I first got on the plane to head here to Kazakhstan. It’s a made-up anecdote that I was imagining as I was waiting for the plane to take off. I know God orchestrated it, but it was my own imagination set loose. It was not a “vision” just a scene I was imagining that I decided to dramatize in words. I forgot about it with all the nerves and fear of arriving, but I found it today and it was a nice reminder of what I am doing here and where I was before I left, a nice reminder of how I dove into this adventure with love itself:
--
1-13-2010
As the 4 massive jet engines of our airbus began to grumble and whir, preparing to catapult us 36,000 feet in the air, I closed my eyes and met with my Savior. I admitted to Him that I had no idea what I was getting myself into or what to expect. I admitted that my Spiritual life had completely flat lined and that I had no idea what I was doing entering the mission field. Suddenly, my mind took me to a field and my feet were rapidly moving beneath me. As the engines howled louder and louder the faster I was running through this field. Running next to me was my best friend—Jesus. He was running as fast as I was and laughing like He was having the time of His life. He began to yell, “Don’t worry about having no expectations and feeling powerless. Don’t worry about how much you feel connected to me. You are mind, you’re in my arms and I love you. Where you’re at right now—its right where I want you. You without any preconceived notions, in your lost and confused state of mind, it is now that I can use you. Now that you feel you know nothing, I can reveal myself to you without your silly human thoughts getting in the way. Now that you feel lost and powerless I can show you just how powerful I am.” Suddenly the field ran out beneath our feet and Jesus and I were falling from this cliff and the ground was getting closer in front of us. I smiled and shouted, “Jesus, I love you!” He looked at me with proud eyes that erupted with love and said, “I love you.” We both plummeted to the ground beneath us. It was then that I realized the plane was in the air and that my adventures with love itself had begun. I was running, I dove, now I’m free falling ready to hit the ground as long as Jesus is falling alongside me with that sweet smile ready to take down my preconceived notions and put up His true form—the form of love—the form of God.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Left with Peace
2-10-2010
Some people always seem to get lucky. Do you know what I mean? Good things always fly in their doors and they seem to unknowingly step on all the bad that tries to sneak in. I’m not one of those people. David was here 2 years before he ever got stopped by the police. The first time they stopped him, Steven and I were right there with him. Today, on the day we were supposed to have a ride home, on the day that it just happened to be -6 degrees outside (yes, I’m talking Fahrenheit), and on the second day in history Steven and I have walked home alone, we had to run into the police...again! If you don’t know the story behind our first stop by the police I encourage you to look through my blog archives, I wrote about it when it happened during our first week here. But that was in the past, I’m sure you want to know about today.
Today was a busy day. We got up early (early for us is 9:00am, which is early if you consider what time I got to bed), and Steven actually woke me up early due to some morning skyping and his mega-loud skype voice, which he knows angered me quite a bit, but as the lesson 2 idiom sections states, let bygones be bygones, whatever that means. I made lemonade out of it anyways. So we woke up early in order to go to the girl’s apartment for some lunch. We had to take the bus. I’ve decided that buses make me nauseous. We waited for over 30 minutes for a bus that never came and then waited another 10 minutes for a bus that would come. I hate the buses here. When we got on the bus this nice guy leaned sideways so I could squeeze in the seat next to him. The seat was next to the window and the windows were frosted over, it was cold and I knew it was going to be a long bus ride. But, wait, oh yes, a nice, big babushka was getting on the bus and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t have to give up my seat because I was in a corner. (A babushka is an old grandma and in Kazakhstan you give your seat to the babushkas or suffer the consequences). What I had overlooked though was the fact that the guy I was sitting next to was a gentleman. Even though he was not a youngling, he quickly got up and offered his seat to the giant babushka. She politely accepted and said thank you and sat next to me. Her giant body squashed me up against the cold window and allowed me no personal space, after all who has ever heard of such a thing as personal space? So I sat there and scraped some ice off the window so I could have a little peephole and make sure I was getting off at the right stop. Every time I wiped the ice off of my peephole, my glove would leave a tiny layer of moisture which would again freeze within seconds. I sat quietly in my little space with the babushka’s body pressing against mine, getting more and more carsick/claustrophobic by the second. I sat there praying to God that He would not let me vomit on the bus, or worse, on the babushka! I told myself that it was just a couple more stops until finally, it was my stop and I was able to get off the bus and walk through the brisk winter air. Nausea didn’t feel like leaving though, not even during lunch, but I ate anyways. The bus ride back certainly didn’t make me feel better although I had to stand the whole time with different bodies pressed against me. So I tried to buy a pepsi, but all the little shops were either unmanned or wouldn’t give me change for a 2000 tenge bill. 2000 tenge is not even a lot of money! I was frustrated. But, I arrived at my center, prepared quizzes and weekend assignments, and met with my private tutee (that’s a funny word, but I don’t know what else to call him). So then came time to go home and here is probably the only part you care about.
It’s Wednesday. Normally one of my older students (who also happens to be the conference treasurer) gives us a ride home every Monday and Wednesday and then Yelena (my boss) is always there to walk home with us on Tuesday and Thursday since she lives one street down. I’m not afraid to walk home alone, but I have to admit that I sure don’t mind having Russian-speaking company or better yet a 4-wheeled contraption that has heating inside. Yesterday, Emily got really sick and Yelena had to substitute for her so it was a Tuesday and Steven I walked home alone. No bother though, everything was fine, but we were sure looking forward to the ride home tonight to escape the -6 degree weather, but I knew that there would be a problem when I saw Oleg (my student) come in late and out of his formal work clothes. Anyways, we began the journey back to our apartment and everything was fine, the cold was hardly a concern as long as we kept our legs pumping. As we ventured through the park we turned the corner and saw a group of camo-suited men and a big, but muzzled, attack dog. Steven and I knew the drill and stopped talking immediately as we tried to make our way around them. But, sure enough they started talking to us and walking towards us so we had to acknowledge them. They began talking to us and Steven uttered, “Niet Ruski” (No Russian) to which I added “Ya Nie Govarru Paruski” (I don’t speak Russian). Of course, they asked for documents, but Steven and I had our certified copies ready, we were completely legal this time, although we’ve learned that doesn’t really matter in this country. They inspected our documents as well as our bags and began questioning us on our business here and where we sleep. I always love when they ask where we sleep because we never understand them and they resort to playing charades and put their hands together and rest their head on their hands while making a snoring sound. It is quite cute coming from camo-suited men. But they continued to talk in Russian and they ended up saying, “Payom” (let’s go) and I was wondering if they planned on walking with us all the way to our apartment, but one of the men managed to say “Station.” Oh yes, we were going to the police station. Without hesitation I said, “Pachimoo?” (Why?) and they said, “Computer.” I inferred that they meant they wanted to check our documents on the computer. I quickly came to grips with the fact that we were going to the police station and without any fear, prepared myself while stubbornly refusing to offer any sort of bribe. I pulled out my dead cell phone and was getting ready to call Yelena to inform her of our upcoming adventure. Either the constant praying in my head punched in or the cell phone scared them. They probably assumed Americans with certified copies of their passports had some connections in the big leagues, although we don’t. They gave us back our papers waved us and said, “Go.” I thanked them in Russian and told them to have a good night in English. We walked away and I just smiled as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. “That’ll make a good story,” I thought to myself. While my heart was pounding and I had to fight to keep my knees from knocking together from the cold, and while my adrenaline was shooting and my nerves were tense, I really can’t say that I felt fear. I was actually annoyed that it had to happen on this night, when I had to go to the bathroom. Bathroom or no bathroom, annoyance or no annoyance, I probably should have been frightened and I probably should have offered the rest of my lunch money, but I remembered some words that were articulated by an incredible Guy. He said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” [John 14:27] Those words set in tonight and I was ready to go to the police station. I knew that all would be okay, because I had peace, not just any kind of peace, but the kind of peace that Jesus gives.
Some people always seem to get lucky. Do you know what I mean? Good things always fly in their doors and they seem to unknowingly step on all the bad that tries to sneak in. I’m not one of those people. David was here 2 years before he ever got stopped by the police. The first time they stopped him, Steven and I were right there with him. Today, on the day we were supposed to have a ride home, on the day that it just happened to be -6 degrees outside (yes, I’m talking Fahrenheit), and on the second day in history Steven and I have walked home alone, we had to run into the police...again! If you don’t know the story behind our first stop by the police I encourage you to look through my blog archives, I wrote about it when it happened during our first week here. But that was in the past, I’m sure you want to know about today.
Today was a busy day. We got up early (early for us is 9:00am, which is early if you consider what time I got to bed), and Steven actually woke me up early due to some morning skyping and his mega-loud skype voice, which he knows angered me quite a bit, but as the lesson 2 idiom sections states, let bygones be bygones, whatever that means. I made lemonade out of it anyways. So we woke up early in order to go to the girl’s apartment for some lunch. We had to take the bus. I’ve decided that buses make me nauseous. We waited for over 30 minutes for a bus that never came and then waited another 10 minutes for a bus that would come. I hate the buses here. When we got on the bus this nice guy leaned sideways so I could squeeze in the seat next to him. The seat was next to the window and the windows were frosted over, it was cold and I knew it was going to be a long bus ride. But, wait, oh yes, a nice, big babushka was getting on the bus and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t have to give up my seat because I was in a corner. (A babushka is an old grandma and in Kazakhstan you give your seat to the babushkas or suffer the consequences). What I had overlooked though was the fact that the guy I was sitting next to was a gentleman. Even though he was not a youngling, he quickly got up and offered his seat to the giant babushka. She politely accepted and said thank you and sat next to me. Her giant body squashed me up against the cold window and allowed me no personal space, after all who has ever heard of such a thing as personal space? So I sat there and scraped some ice off the window so I could have a little peephole and make sure I was getting off at the right stop. Every time I wiped the ice off of my peephole, my glove would leave a tiny layer of moisture which would again freeze within seconds. I sat quietly in my little space with the babushka’s body pressing against mine, getting more and more carsick/claustrophobic by the second. I sat there praying to God that He would not let me vomit on the bus, or worse, on the babushka! I told myself that it was just a couple more stops until finally, it was my stop and I was able to get off the bus and walk through the brisk winter air. Nausea didn’t feel like leaving though, not even during lunch, but I ate anyways. The bus ride back certainly didn’t make me feel better although I had to stand the whole time with different bodies pressed against me. So I tried to buy a pepsi, but all the little shops were either unmanned or wouldn’t give me change for a 2000 tenge bill. 2000 tenge is not even a lot of money! I was frustrated. But, I arrived at my center, prepared quizzes and weekend assignments, and met with my private tutee (that’s a funny word, but I don’t know what else to call him). So then came time to go home and here is probably the only part you care about.
It’s Wednesday. Normally one of my older students (who also happens to be the conference treasurer) gives us a ride home every Monday and Wednesday and then Yelena (my boss) is always there to walk home with us on Tuesday and Thursday since she lives one street down. I’m not afraid to walk home alone, but I have to admit that I sure don’t mind having Russian-speaking company or better yet a 4-wheeled contraption that has heating inside. Yesterday, Emily got really sick and Yelena had to substitute for her so it was a Tuesday and Steven I walked home alone. No bother though, everything was fine, but we were sure looking forward to the ride home tonight to escape the -6 degree weather, but I knew that there would be a problem when I saw Oleg (my student) come in late and out of his formal work clothes. Anyways, we began the journey back to our apartment and everything was fine, the cold was hardly a concern as long as we kept our legs pumping. As we ventured through the park we turned the corner and saw a group of camo-suited men and a big, but muzzled, attack dog. Steven and I knew the drill and stopped talking immediately as we tried to make our way around them. But, sure enough they started talking to us and walking towards us so we had to acknowledge them. They began talking to us and Steven uttered, “Niet Ruski” (No Russian) to which I added “Ya Nie Govarru Paruski” (I don’t speak Russian). Of course, they asked for documents, but Steven and I had our certified copies ready, we were completely legal this time, although we’ve learned that doesn’t really matter in this country. They inspected our documents as well as our bags and began questioning us on our business here and where we sleep. I always love when they ask where we sleep because we never understand them and they resort to playing charades and put their hands together and rest their head on their hands while making a snoring sound. It is quite cute coming from camo-suited men. But they continued to talk in Russian and they ended up saying, “Payom” (let’s go) and I was wondering if they planned on walking with us all the way to our apartment, but one of the men managed to say “Station.” Oh yes, we were going to the police station. Without hesitation I said, “Pachimoo?” (Why?) and they said, “Computer.” I inferred that they meant they wanted to check our documents on the computer. I quickly came to grips with the fact that we were going to the police station and without any fear, prepared myself while stubbornly refusing to offer any sort of bribe. I pulled out my dead cell phone and was getting ready to call Yelena to inform her of our upcoming adventure. Either the constant praying in my head punched in or the cell phone scared them. They probably assumed Americans with certified copies of their passports had some connections in the big leagues, although we don’t. They gave us back our papers waved us and said, “Go.” I thanked them in Russian and told them to have a good night in English. We walked away and I just smiled as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. “That’ll make a good story,” I thought to myself. While my heart was pounding and I had to fight to keep my knees from knocking together from the cold, and while my adrenaline was shooting and my nerves were tense, I really can’t say that I felt fear. I was actually annoyed that it had to happen on this night, when I had to go to the bathroom. Bathroom or no bathroom, annoyance or no annoyance, I probably should have been frightened and I probably should have offered the rest of my lunch money, but I remembered some words that were articulated by an incredible Guy. He said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” [John 14:27] Those words set in tonight and I was ready to go to the police station. I knew that all would be okay, because I had peace, not just any kind of peace, but the kind of peace that Jesus gives.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Contemplating Love
2-9-2010
When I’m at home I love to get a can or a jar of mandarin oranges. They are so small, but so deliciously sweet. Here in Kazakhstan, I go out on the street and get fresh mandarin oranges that hopped the border from China. I can sit down and eat a whole kilogram of the amazing little orange things.
Today was a rough day teaching. I had my level 2 class which as of today is a level 3 class. None of them are really ready to move on, but I didn’t want to make the whole class repeat the level. None of them had prepared because they just got their new books so I felt like an idiot trying to do exercises with them that they just didn’t understand. The good news is that we got paid today. That’s right, a whole 2000 tenge, now we can buy groceries.
I think I’ve mentioned this before; every day we have 2 discussion periods that are a half hour each. Steven teaches one and I teach one, although you don’t really teach, you just discuss things with them. I had a big group yesterday which is quite a rarity for our center. I decided to talk about love and romance, which related to weddings and all that mushy stuff. They were telling me about a typical Kazakh wedding and how it lasts for several days. I asked them the main difference between a Muslim wedding and a Christian wedding. (Here it seems as though every single fair-complexion Russian looking person is Christian Orthodox and every darker, more Kazakh looking person is Muslim.) Most people don’t really seem to question their religion or their beliefs. They just accept them as thought they are genetic and dare not stray from their roots. Anyways, back to the weddings. They told me that the biggest difference between a Christian (Russian Orthodox) wedding and a Muslim (Genuine Kazakh) wedding is that at the Muslim weddings there is no alcohol and a lot of food, while the Christian wedding has a ton of vodka and little salad. Way to go Christians! We have made fools of ourselves once again. It’s just lovely that Muslims view us as alcoholic, lustful, out of control, selfish pigs. But, I can’t say I blame them, most Christians view them as terrorists. That’s the beauty of stereotypes.
So I brought up the love question to my discussion class because it is something that has been on my mind. Deep down, I’m kind of a sappy guy. I like to listen to people’s love stories and I like to hear about tales of hopeless romance. I don’t know why, but I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember. I love love. But, I have to admit, I don’t understand love. It’s more than a feeling, more than a daily choice, more than an element to a good story, more than a force, more than just romance, more than sex, more than kindness and care, so what is it? I had this epiphany today that seems super obvious now. (I have a lot of epiphanies with all this free time). So the Bible says God is love, and my own logic even tells me that the Creator of this world is love. So then I started thinking about love in terms of God. I’ve been writing about how my view of God is expanding, that I keep seeing Him as bigger and bigger and more terrifying, but still good nonetheless. I don’t fully understand God and I don’t suppose I ever will. Maybe it’s the same with love. I have all these big expectations and I believe in love more than anything else, but I don’t understand it. Love is of Godly proportions and I am starting to presume that I will never fully understand it, and you know what? I think I’m ok with that.
When I’m at home I love to get a can or a jar of mandarin oranges. They are so small, but so deliciously sweet. Here in Kazakhstan, I go out on the street and get fresh mandarin oranges that hopped the border from China. I can sit down and eat a whole kilogram of the amazing little orange things.
Today was a rough day teaching. I had my level 2 class which as of today is a level 3 class. None of them are really ready to move on, but I didn’t want to make the whole class repeat the level. None of them had prepared because they just got their new books so I felt like an idiot trying to do exercises with them that they just didn’t understand. The good news is that we got paid today. That’s right, a whole 2000 tenge, now we can buy groceries.
I think I’ve mentioned this before; every day we have 2 discussion periods that are a half hour each. Steven teaches one and I teach one, although you don’t really teach, you just discuss things with them. I had a big group yesterday which is quite a rarity for our center. I decided to talk about love and romance, which related to weddings and all that mushy stuff. They were telling me about a typical Kazakh wedding and how it lasts for several days. I asked them the main difference between a Muslim wedding and a Christian wedding. (Here it seems as though every single fair-complexion Russian looking person is Christian Orthodox and every darker, more Kazakh looking person is Muslim.) Most people don’t really seem to question their religion or their beliefs. They just accept them as thought they are genetic and dare not stray from their roots. Anyways, back to the weddings. They told me that the biggest difference between a Christian (Russian Orthodox) wedding and a Muslim (Genuine Kazakh) wedding is that at the Muslim weddings there is no alcohol and a lot of food, while the Christian wedding has a ton of vodka and little salad. Way to go Christians! We have made fools of ourselves once again. It’s just lovely that Muslims view us as alcoholic, lustful, out of control, selfish pigs. But, I can’t say I blame them, most Christians view them as terrorists. That’s the beauty of stereotypes.
So I brought up the love question to my discussion class because it is something that has been on my mind. Deep down, I’m kind of a sappy guy. I like to listen to people’s love stories and I like to hear about tales of hopeless romance. I don’t know why, but I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember. I love love. But, I have to admit, I don’t understand love. It’s more than a feeling, more than a daily choice, more than an element to a good story, more than a force, more than just romance, more than sex, more than kindness and care, so what is it? I had this epiphany today that seems super obvious now. (I have a lot of epiphanies with all this free time). So the Bible says God is love, and my own logic even tells me that the Creator of this world is love. So then I started thinking about love in terms of God. I’ve been writing about how my view of God is expanding, that I keep seeing Him as bigger and bigger and more terrifying, but still good nonetheless. I don’t fully understand God and I don’t suppose I ever will. Maybe it’s the same with love. I have all these big expectations and I believe in love more than anything else, but I don’t understand it. Love is of Godly proportions and I am starting to presume that I will never fully understand it, and you know what? I think I’m ok with that.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Living Without
2-8-2010
Do you know what the temperature is outside? 1 degree. 1 is the loneliest number, it is the number of spouses you have, the number of lives you have to live, it was never supposed to be a temperature! But, fortunately I am in a warm and cozy apartment. Today was a pretty typical day. I woke up very late, graded exams, managed without the water (it wasn’t bad at all, it started working but then came out brown, yuck!), and then went to work. I decided that Mondays and Thursdays are not going to be my favorites. I have a private tutee at 4, I have discussion right at 5 and I have kids at 7. My regular classes meet from 5:30-7:00 and from 7:30-9:00. So basically I have to work 5 hours without a break to fill my tea cup, print an assignment, or prepare for the next lesson. I have to actually be prepared! I’m telling you these people are working me to death! Ha, it’s funny how you get used to free time and when its gone you feel like you’ve just been robbed of your most valuable possession.
Steven and I went to the supermarket with the girls the other day. We went to get some groceries. We only had 2,000 tenge left from our “lunch money.” So we got what we needed and headed to the register. We quickly realized that we weren’t going to have enough. We ended up having to put some non-necessities back. It was a humbling experience. We’re poor. I kind of find some adventure in it. Living on 12 bucks a week is definitely one of those things that helps you grow and learn how to live “simply.” Living simply has literally been shoved out of Western culture, especially in America. We like things, it’s not that we mean to be selfish and materialistic, it’s just the way we’re wired. We like things and we don’t have that natural impulse telling us that we could do without. I think George Washington and Thomas Jefferson must have killed it. Don’t get me wrong, many Americans are extremely generous and kind people, but I know some poor people who have really nice flat screen TV’s and nifty gadgets and only in America will you find overweight homeless people. I’ll be the first to admit that living simply is beyond me. I know that Jesus lived simply, but when I think about the whole thing I get uncomfortable. I want my expensive clothes and kitchen appliances. I like my TV and my computer. And I’d be kidding you if I said I wouldn’t like to be “well off.” In my dreams I have a lake house, surrounded by surreal mountains, with a really nice room to sit and write, I have a few jet skies, and no doubt there is a $400 blender in my kitchen. Sure, I plan on giving to charities and funding some ministries, but only as long as I get to keep my blender. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with being rich or even anything wrong with being engrossed in the American lifestyle. It is who we are, but I am being humbled, and I secretly like it under all my disappointment from putting back the brown sugar. Money is money, it is the passionate greed within us that’s the evil one. Whatever you do, just be generous with what you have.
Do you know what the temperature is outside? 1 degree. 1 is the loneliest number, it is the number of spouses you have, the number of lives you have to live, it was never supposed to be a temperature! But, fortunately I am in a warm and cozy apartment. Today was a pretty typical day. I woke up very late, graded exams, managed without the water (it wasn’t bad at all, it started working but then came out brown, yuck!), and then went to work. I decided that Mondays and Thursdays are not going to be my favorites. I have a private tutee at 4, I have discussion right at 5 and I have kids at 7. My regular classes meet from 5:30-7:00 and from 7:30-9:00. So basically I have to work 5 hours without a break to fill my tea cup, print an assignment, or prepare for the next lesson. I have to actually be prepared! I’m telling you these people are working me to death! Ha, it’s funny how you get used to free time and when its gone you feel like you’ve just been robbed of your most valuable possession.
Steven and I went to the supermarket with the girls the other day. We went to get some groceries. We only had 2,000 tenge left from our “lunch money.” So we got what we needed and headed to the register. We quickly realized that we weren’t going to have enough. We ended up having to put some non-necessities back. It was a humbling experience. We’re poor. I kind of find some adventure in it. Living on 12 bucks a week is definitely one of those things that helps you grow and learn how to live “simply.” Living simply has literally been shoved out of Western culture, especially in America. We like things, it’s not that we mean to be selfish and materialistic, it’s just the way we’re wired. We like things and we don’t have that natural impulse telling us that we could do without. I think George Washington and Thomas Jefferson must have killed it. Don’t get me wrong, many Americans are extremely generous and kind people, but I know some poor people who have really nice flat screen TV’s and nifty gadgets and only in America will you find overweight homeless people. I’ll be the first to admit that living simply is beyond me. I know that Jesus lived simply, but when I think about the whole thing I get uncomfortable. I want my expensive clothes and kitchen appliances. I like my TV and my computer. And I’d be kidding you if I said I wouldn’t like to be “well off.” In my dreams I have a lake house, surrounded by surreal mountains, with a really nice room to sit and write, I have a few jet skies, and no doubt there is a $400 blender in my kitchen. Sure, I plan on giving to charities and funding some ministries, but only as long as I get to keep my blender. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with being rich or even anything wrong with being engrossed in the American lifestyle. It is who we are, but I am being humbled, and I secretly like it under all my disappointment from putting back the brown sugar. Money is money, it is the passionate greed within us that’s the evil one. Whatever you do, just be generous with what you have.
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