First there is Michael Katzenberger who is our fearless or fearful leader -- ha ha. I had to throw that one in. Here are some words that I might use to describe my boss. Teddy bear, humorous, pastor, visionary, amusing and a good friend.

Then there's Michael Warren, our fearless retreat leader, who is doing a fabulous job! He is what I would almost epitomize as warm and friendly, non-judgmental and wise.

Then there's Michael Treadway who came with me from New City Church of LA. It is his first time outside of the US since he was a little boy. His level of excitement prior to the trip was beyond what I can describe in words, but maybe I can try. Here are some words that come to mind: eager, eagerness, enthusiastic, over enthusiastic, delighted, overjoyed with delight, animated, peppy but not like pepe le peu.

Why would I bother to write about the three apparent Michael's and the issue of how and what to call them? After all, they are three very different individuals. Because I have been thinking about the importance of names. The Bible is careful to tell us the meaning of some names and with that almost is a prophecy over that person's life. For instance, Jesus, as we know comes from "Joshua" which means "YAHWEH is salvation". And from that we know that Jesus came to earth to save.

What about the name Aaron? The most popular Aaron in the Bible was that who was the brother of Moses. It has an Egyptian origin and means "high mountain" or "exalted". Biblically, Aaron was Moses' older brother (and keeper by God's command). He was the first high priest of the Israelites, remembered for the miraculous blossoming of his staff or rod.

What about Michael? I am surrounded by them for 2 weeks. What does this name mean? "He who is like God?". It is a rhetorical question because no one can be like God. In the Book of Revelations he is portrayed as the leader of heaven's armies. Ok.

Now, in Russia "Michael" is spelled "Mikhail" and I immediately think of Mikhail Gorbachev. Not wanting to get into political debate at this point, it's probably best that I stop writing about the name Michael.

So, what about you? What does your name mean?

Nancy is a variant of Ann which means grace. Ok, everybody, please don't fall off your chairs from laughing too hard. I recognize that I wear this meaning lightly. I tend to trip over my own feet, so I have no grace there. I sometimes speak too quickly and the words that come from my mouth are offensive and hurtful. Yep. No grace there.

Here is the interesting part. Ann is a form of Hannah from the Old Testament of the Bible. The name appears briefly in the New Testament and refers to a prophetess who recognized Jesus as the Messiah. The name was also borne by several Russian royals, including an 18th-century empress of Russia. It was also the name of the main character in Leo Tolstoy's novel 'Anna Karenina' (1877), a woman forced to choose between her son and her lover.

So.... that's my connection to Russia! Whew. God does know what He's doing. :)

AFTER MY RETURN

THINGS I MISS

• Katya & Sergei and our long conversations
• Sveta’s porridge
• Sveta & Dima
• the little pan that they cooked the eggs in
• the buses
• the staff at coffee bean
• Sveta and Dima
• Anya, Maksim, Tolik, Stas, Sergei and all their smiles
• the elevator

THINGS THAT TOUCHED MY HEART
• Anya calling me on my last day and telling me thank you
• Dima’s email that I just received
• Sveta trying so hard to speak English to me
• the girls at Coffee Bean that laughed at me as we tried to speak each other’s languages
• all the people that I met
• Katya’s heart and compassion for people
• Sergei’s love for Katya
• Katya’s love for Sergei
• the little orphans who don’t realize that their life is really all that bad (yet) and smile and want to just play futbol with you

THINGS I HOPE FOR IN THE NEAR FUTURE
• cheap plane tickets for my October return
• a new Jesus movement to start in Rjazan

THREE WEEKS COMING TO AN END

In less than 48 hours my time in Rjazan, Russia will come to an end for this trip. I generally come to spend 2 weeks here in the summer. This year, my time has been different. First of all, I have not had 20 teenagers in tow. I came all by myself. I have been staying with a family, experiencing Russian culture in all possible ways that can be done while being here for 3 weeks – eating traditional Russian foods, taking the bus, learning the language, listening to friends as they share the attitudes and lifestyles of the Russian people (as a whole).

I won’t lie and tell you that I am excited to leave Russia. I am sad. Why? Because isn’t that the normal emotion you feel when you leave good friends? Yes. I have gotten to know some people on a deeper level and my respect and compassion has grown tenfold – probably more like a hundred fold.

They are struggling with expanding the Kingdom in a time when Russia is emerging out of communism into materialism yet the times of the past are not easily forgotten and the ways and attitudes from the era of the Soviet Union go deep. The younger, Christian generation are truly pioneers as they forge into a new climate.

Within 2 years there has been several new malls and a fancy sports bars built. Someone the other day told me that this past year there has been an increase in pregnant women. I asked why. “Maybe because people have more money,” was the response. I am able to sit in a comfy chair in a coffee shop (like I would in LA) and utilize the free wifi and have a cappuccino.

Two years ago when I visited Rjazan, wifi was very expensive and now my friends are even able to afford it in their home. I remember standing in line to use the computer where we were staying as everyone wanted to write an email or visiting the only internet café in town. My point in this is that some things are changing. As we all know, change brings resistance for some and change can always look nice and shiny on the outside, but Jesus is still not in the picture. If I say “hello” to someone sitting next to me at the coffee shop they might say “hello” back. If I push the conversation further, I’ve been told that more than likely that person will get up and move to another seat. Inviting your neighbor for dinner is just not done. Why? Because your neighbor won’t come. Why? Because they think you will want something from them.

Waking up in the morning wondering if this is what they really should be doing is a daily occurrence. Feeling oppression on a brand new level for long periods of time is nothing new. My heart is broken for the people of Rjazan. How will they make a new way?

If you are reading this, would you pray that God would show them a new way and not just a new way but a new path and a new courage and strength beyond what they could ever imagine. My sweet friends, I love you beyond what words can express.

FREAKISHLY HOT WEATHER

The weather in Rjazan has been so hot that they said it is the hottest it has been in 100 years. Thanks.

The last few nights I have been getting back to the flat where I am staying a bit late in the evening and although it is a bit nice outside there is no breeze in the bedroom where I am sleeping. I am normally a person who is cold (always). I carry a jacket everywhere with me in SoCal. I have not wanted to or needed to carry anything even when I sit in the air conditioning because I think I am so thankful to be in the cool air that I sometimes wish I didn’t have to leave.

Last night we went to a sports bar after debriefing the conference. It was not as crowded as I thought it would be and although the air conditioning had been on the night before you could not feel it last night. So by the time I got back to my flat at 2am I really wanted to sleep in a tub of cool water, but opted not to in case the couple I’m staying with should think there is a giant fish in their bathroom when the sun arose several hours later.

Laying in the bed for a few hours feeling like I was just roasting in an oven made me thankful for clean, cold, running water and air conditioning. By 7am I was awake, not because the sun was pouring in the window but because I was laying in a pool of sweat. I laid there as long as I could and finally got up and moved slowly to the shower in anticipation of how wonderful this cool, running water would feel as it would hit my face. I really wanted to use all of Rjazan’s water supply up in my one shower, but thought I better not.

When I sat down to have breakfast with Dima he announced that they decided they will get air conditioning. I emphatically encouraged him and told him all the reasons it would be healthy (ha ha).

I normally don’t complain because of heat but this is seriously the HOTTEST weather I think I have ever experienced.

Thank goodness for Coffee Bean and it’s free wifi and air conditioning. Actually, I mean – thank goodness for Coffee Bean and it’s air conditioning, free wifi and mega cappuccinos that are GOOD and not EXPENSIVE. Do you think if I give them some money they will let me sleep in one of the chairs over night? I could tell them that I can be their security for the evening.

Life is good.

THINGS I HAVE LEARNED WHILE IN RJAZAN

1. Why do orphans seem so much cuter than the average kid?
2. Most people walk or utilize public transportation.
3. I am considered spoiled because I crave air conditioning (and I would agree).
4. Life is much more simple here (and I like it).
5. Russians have to get a visa to go to most countries and they can be denied because the person issuing the visas is just in a bad mood. Oi.
6. People stare at you for no apparent reason (and I sometimes stare back).
7. The woman selling roses on the streets is dressed in a very pretty dress and high heels (like she’s going to dinner at a nice restaurant clarifier: in California). She doesn’t necessarily have a lot of money but she dresses this way because this is her business. It might be her only dress and she might not live in the best of conditions but she potentially wears the one dress that she owns.
8. Women wear high heels EVERYWHERE! And we’re talking 3-4” stilettos. Ouch.
9. The cost of living in Rjazan is similar to Los Angeles, but salaries are DRASTICALLY lower. When I say drastically, I mean so low that you would be living in an SRO in Los Angeles with mom, dad and the kids.
10. Russians eat 3 meals a day and walk about 4 miles in 90 degree weather. I’m only slightly exaggerating.
11. Balconies are for hanging the wash to dry.
12. Hospitality in Russia means bringing out your best china and cooking the finest meals and helping you in whatever way they can possibly help. The hospitality is beyond what I can put into words and I am extremely humbled by it.
13. Life in Rjazan is what I would imagine life was like in the 50s in the USA.
14. Showering is an option for some people.
15. My heart beats stronger and harder for my friends here in this city as they struggle to do what God is calling them to do.
16. Russians don’t make idle conversation with one another. In fact, it is difficult to begin conversations with people because they just won’t respond (even for a fellow Russian).
17. Eating dinner out is considered a major luxury and most people just can’t afford it.
18. It is acceptable to carry a bottle of beer on the street. Clarifier: I have not done this …
19. On any given Friday evening you can go to the city fountain and join the hundreds of people having a “party” with their bottles of beer.
20. It is not uncommon for someone in their 40’s to just be learning how to drive.
21. Most people live with just what they need. By this I mean if there are 2 people living in the house there are 2 (maybe 3) plates, 2 forks, 2 spoons, etc.
22. Being drunk does not necessarily indicate being incoherent.
23. Experiencing Russian high school graduation is not like anything I have ever seen
24. Elevators are the size of a coffin and when you are claustrophobic and 3 people want to join you … you pray that the ride is quick
25. Russians have beautiful smiles.

THE COMMON GROUND

While I’m here in Rjazan I am staying with a family, Sveta and Dima. Sveta, is all about herbs, plants and learning how different spices and foods can be used to help medical problems as well as to be used as preventative measures.

“I’m there,” I think to myself. Here is the common ground. Did I mention that she doesn’t speak must English? I don’t speak much Russian.

We started trading recipes and talking about how each of us uses different foods (with the help of Dima’s translations). Sveta has taught me how to make some Russian dishes as well as giving me some different medicinal reasons for eating some kinds of food.

My recent struggles with my stomach have caused me to view ginger in a whole new way. It is no longer an accent to a dish I am cooking. Because of my stomach, I now make tea from ginger (with some dates and honey) to ease the nausea and sometimes the pain. Recently I discovered uncrystallized ginger at the store. Now I carry it with me, especially when I travel. It has become like Pepto Bismol for me. Now I carry Pepto Bismol AND ginger.

The other evening Sveta was not feeling well. She was having some digestion problems. Later that evening we had a discussion about remedies for digestion and I told them that I use ginger. Her eyes got big and she asked me why and how do I use ginger. Ginger is new to Russia. They have just recently been importing it here and not many people know what to do with it. I brought out my Trader Joe’s version of uncrystallized ginger and had her try a piece. The next day she asked if I could give her another piece. I gave her the bag out of empathy.

The day after that she asked if I would teach her how to make crystallized ginger because in our discussion of ginger I told her I had found a recipe for making it and was going to try it. Yesterday she came back from the store with a large piece of ginger.

And our common ground continues.

WHO AM I ... REALLY?

I carry an American passport, I have an American name, I live in an American state, but inside I have always struggled with who I am. Most of you know that I was raised as a Third Culture Kid. (Definition: Being raised in your formative years by one parent of one culture and another parent of another culture, living in a completely different culture from the two parents.) The other day I was crying out to God in my state of confusion because I’ve been wondering if I stick out like a crazy American here in Rjazan, Russia or do I blend in. As I wrestled with God over this subject one morning I was all ready to say, “Ok, LORD, I am an American. I should just embrace the American flag and take the US into my heart.” Later that evening I was having a conversation with my friends and this very subject came up. I don’t know why and I don’t remember what prompted it, but the subject did not begin with me. I was all ready to figure out how to be more American.

“So, do you see me as an American?”
“You know, it’s funny. I look at you and know that you are an American but you are not American.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not really American in all your ways.”

From a previous conversation. “You know if you were able to learn the language, you would fit in quite easily.”

And so my struggle continues.

Do you trust Me?

Which road will you take?
Will you do it for my sake?
And how will you know if I am there?
I will show you with My care.

Is trust just a word for you?
Or do you hang on until you turn blue?
What if you don’t hear my voice?
Will you still walk with me?
I will show you with My care.

How will you know it is right?
Are you waiting for the road to be bright?
I am here to clear the way,
And I will be with you all the day.
I will show you with My care.

How Many Things Can You Experience in Four Days?

Sergei asked if I would like to experience real Russian food. I said YES! That is why I am here. A few hours later he tells me that we will go to Stas and Marina’s house the following night for dinner and we will have окрошка (a-krosh-ka). This meal consists of diced meats (it can be sausages, or meats), cucumbers, radishes, dill and the white part of a boiled egg. Once it is all put together, you spoon out some in a bowl, pour Kvass on top, dollop some sour cream and then add some salt. They all sat and watched me as I took the first bite (or at least that’s how I felt) and, of course, asked me right away if I liked it. And … I really, really like it! It was so good that I had more.

For those of you who might not know what Kvass is, here is my best explanation of it. Kvass is a very popular Russian drink. Not knowing quite how to explain what it tastes like I went to Wikipedia. Sometimes called in English a bread drink, it is a fermented beverage made from black rye or rye bread (which contributes to its light or dark colour).

Sveta is teaching me how to make it because I shared with her and Dima that I would like to make окрошко when I return home, but I wasn’t sure if I would be able to find the Kvass, so she told me she would teach me how to make it.

My evening at Stas and Marina’s house was so humbling. I knew that though they were so happy to make this meal for me that it might have put a little bit of a stretch on their budget. So, why am I humbled? I am humbled because every time I see Stas and Marina they have smiles from ear to ear. I am humbled because they open their arms and home and make me feel so welcome. They asked if I would bring some vitamins over from the US. They knew the brand (Kirkland) and they asked if I would bring vitamins for adults and their 2 children (one being an infant). I am humbled after watching Marina glow and coo over the vitamins in front of her I realized that I take vitamins for granted.

On Friday, Dima announced that the elevator was back in service. I said, “Oh, that’s great. I think I will continue to take the stairs.”

“Oh? But it is so hot,” he said with such a look of surprise and the “oh” was coupled with a look of disbelief.

“Yes, but I think I need the exercise,” I replied, yet what I was thinking is ‘what happens if I get stuck in that elevator by myself?’ after Sergei mentioned that it takes awhile before someone might come to fix an elevator in a building.

Later that night when I was dropped off, I headed in the front door and stopped and stared at the elevator realizing that it would not only take my breath away to walk the 8 flights, but I would be sweating something terrible by the time I reached the front door of Sveta and Dima’s apartment. There is one thing I have learned in the last four days -- yes, it is possible to literally be dripping sweat just be standing still in 96 degree temperature and humidity that feels like a sauna. After one second, I decided to go with the stairs. I paced myself and made it to the 4th floor and then I stopped. I stared at the elevator as if it were some demon ready to jump out and get me. I pressed the button nervously and heard the elevator come quickly to my rescue. The door opened and still I was thinking that I shouldn’t take the elevator but my legs continued to move forward into the cubicle called an elevator. I pushed the button for the 8th floor and rode the rest of the 4 floors up, relieved when the doors opened and I wasn’t sweating.

Here is a list of things I did saw or experienced in the last 4 days:
• attended a Russian high school graduation – complete with a young boy gyrating like Elaine on Seinfeld.
• the lake (beach) – complete with the bugs the size of grasshoppers (no exaggeration)
• Russian language lessons – and being able to greet people in public
• riding several different buses and learning my way around town via bus
• more Russian hospitality – complete with stuffed chicken and Russian pickles
• Globus supermarket
• the country market – complete with an old Russian babushka pushing me out of the way
• visiting a summer camp for orphans and playing futbol with the young boys
• an underground club – complete with watching an old Russian flick
• Pasha’s apartment :)
• the family who used an American blow-up bed as a raft in the lake
• feeling like a mute at the orphan summer camp – it was the only way I could disguise being American since “foreigners” are not allowed in the camps
• a typical Russian lunch
• peace every time I round the corner from the elevator towards the door that marks my home for this 3 weeks
• seeing someone I have not seen in 3 years and excited because I wondered what happened to this person
• learning how to make Kvass

THE LONELY EGG

I was greeted the first morning with a big smile as I made my way into the kitchen and then Sveta ran to the stove and picked up the pan with the one fried egg in it. She quickly slid it onto a plate and set it before me. The table was already set with the ыабуки (apple), сыр (cheese) and the tasty Belarus treat called сирники (seer neekee).

I looked at the lonely egg on my plate. It did look lonely. It needed a companion. And then I realized I was viewing this very well-cooked egg as an American would. After all you would never go to Denny’s or iHop and expect to just get one egg. That would be ludicrous! As I cut into the egg, I noticed it was swimming in grease. It tasted so good. Grease has a way of doing that. I am a believer that this is why true Mexican and Southern foods taste so good – it is the amount of oil (in the form of either lard or butter) that is used. I was also reminded that there is cereal (the happy box of Nesquick – yes, you know that box as a child, right?) There is milk in the refrigerator. Quickly, Dima pulls out a bottle and points out that there is a picture of a “bully cow” and this is how I will know which bottle is the milk. Yes, when you don’t know a language you resort to images and I’m guessing he knew this because he taught himself English.

Back to my lonely egg – as I finished eating the white of the fried egg, there was only the yolk left. As I cut into the very well-cooked yolk, it spurted out some sort of liquid that clearly marked each pant leg with a dot of liquid. Whoa! The egg is alive.

The warmth of old friends and the possibility of new

Landing at a new airport was refreshing. It was amazing to me how quickly I made it through Passport Control and even more shocked that I whisked through customs. When I say "whisked" I mean I literally walked right through. Nobody stopped me, nobody frisked me, nobody wanted to see the contents of my bags. This caused me to seriously think about which airport I really want to fly into when I return in October. Those of you who know the airport that I generally fly into understand the difference between standing in Passport Control lines for 3 hours versus half an hour and having each bag dissected and pulled apart.

On top of that, I walked out to the sight of smiling faces and waving arms from my friends, Sergey and Katya. I am humbled by our friendship. We walked out of the airport and hopped into a car for the several hour drive to Ryazan. This is partially why I am humbled. When I come to Russia, the ever so long flight is only part of the transportation. The car or bus or van ride from the airport is also lengthy and I know what it means for them to take time out of their day to make that drive and pick me up.

And on to the rest of this amazing Russian hospitality. Having been raised by a Korean mother I know hospitality, especially when it comes to food. When being invited to my mother's house for dinner if you have finished your first plate of food you will DEFINITELY be offered a second helping. When I say "offered" I mean the food is in their hands ready to drop on your plate before you can say no. And if you are not smart enough to realize that you must eat very slowly from this point you will also be "given" a third helping.

Russians are much the same. Yesterday, Katya's mother came home and immediately began cooking a Tok-like (for you Koreans) Belarus treat. She then pulled out half the contents of her refrigerator and set it on the very small dining table in the kitchen. I was offered tea or coffee and opted for the tea (Russians don't drink coffee so coffee is instant coffee from a jar, which, by the way, I was raised on, but have been spoiled over my years of living in the US). Half way through my cup of tea, Sveta (Katya's mom) takes a coke and sets it in front of me. Now ... having experienced the Korean version of hospitality I'm now fully aware of what's happening, so I s-l-o-w-e-d down. Otherwise I would have had 2 plates of the tasty Belarus treat, cheese, cookies, tea, coke and possibly some Russian salami.

I dared not to tell her that I had just eaten at McDonald's with her daughter and son-in-law. No, eat the food and know that this comes from her heart.

For a moment I was a little concerned about the amount of food I would be consuming in this 3-week period, but it quickly dissipated when we reached the building where I am staying. Why? Because their flat is on the 8th floor ... and the lift is out of service! WOOT! Can we say "exercise"? Let me just say that I was happy that Sergey and Katya carried my suitcases up the stairs when I first got here.

From this food extravaganza I went to dinner. Sergey and Katya cooked a wonderful dinner and as we were talking and eating, Sergey asked me if I wanted to experience real Russian food. Part of why I am here is to experience the culture, learn the language and adapt as best as I can in the concept of my warped foreign ways. I said "YES!". And they immediately launched into speaking Russian with a menacing smile. I am not worried. When I pointed this out they told me that they wanted to make a traditional Russian salad. So, details to come!

Today I will be getting my first language lesson and after the language lesson Katya will show me how to catch the bus as I take copious notes because walking from one place to another entails going from one dirt path to another and often times your only guide is the clearing in the bushes (I'm being only slightly facetious) where there is a fork and you choose which dirt path to go down next. They explained last night that it is a 30 minute bus ride into the city central -- just in case I wanted to go to the city. Yes, I'm still nervous about getting around on ground transportation so please pray that this becomes so easy for me. Now, those of you who know me VERY well, know that I am SO geographically challenged that this is why I am so nervous. This morning when I woke up I thought -- pictures! -- I will take pictures along my way so that I can match up where I'm going. Yes, have a good laugh on that one. It might work, however.

And there comes the end of a beautiful first day in Russia.

The 15 month lease -- is it good?

Our lease is coming due and with these economic hard times we decided to make a proposal to the landlord because we have been good tenants in a building that has a lot of turnover lately. He denied our request and offered us a lower rent if we sign a 15 month lease.

Because we have talked about moving back to downtown Los Angeles since we moved away from there, we decided that maybe it was time to take the plunge. There is an apartment building that we have tried to get into for several years but it is always full. This would be a good sign, but for us it wasn't a good thing. It offers the lowest rents in all of downtown Los Angeles with ok amenities. We would have use of a fitness center (with sauna) and a lounge to entertain guests which has a flat screen TV and a kitchen and dining room table (nice). Now ... here is the sweet spot for the deal. We would have 2 underground parking spaces for a year that would be included in the price of the rent. There is central air and heat (aaahhh...) and a nice size kitchen (yes!). Right downstairs is the Grand Central Market. It is a very large, open air market which sells produce, meats, breads, spices and prepared meals.

Right now we pay for one underground parking spot and play the parking game with our other car on the street. The parking game is a very lucrative sport that we are blessed at because I work most days from home. This allows us to volley for a good, safe parking spot right in front of our building. This would be key to living in our neighborhood.

This morning we decided to do the "list". This list consists of Pros and Cons for each place. We have done it on every move we have made and it has helped us to make wise decisions. In the end, even though it looks like we would pay less if we stayed where we are, at the end of the year we would have spent more then the new place because we will give up our gym memberships, not have to buy an air conditioning unit and alleviate paying for parking. In the end, we save money by moving to the new place AND ... we will be back in downtown LA where we love to walk the streets and eat out (when we go out to eat) and where we have been doing most of our missional initiatives.

Time for change.

the waiting is over

Every day I would eagerly read my friend's blog about his mother, the woman who not only showed so much grace to our family but loved from the bottom of her heart. I will have a chance to attend the appropriate services and be present as someone who would like to honor her in mass. Mostly, I'm just thankful that God allowed me to be intertwined in her life. I'm so thankful that not only did our lives meet and smash together, but we enjoyed those times and always came back for more.

You see, up until a few days ago she was probably in her 60s and earlier this year she found out that she had a brain tumor -- a tumor that was so aggressive and so large that after about five surgeries the doctors decided not to sew her back up. They put a helmet on her head and kept protective coverings over her head "just in case" they needed to go back in. Well, they did go back in and then finally they just couldn't do anymore.

My mom will turn 80 this year and she and this woman were very good friends. I can just imagine how my mom must feel and I am imagining the emotions that she is holding back as she realizes the end came sooner for her friend than for her. My mom still expresses out loud that one day they were having a meal together and the next she had a brain tumor.

Goodbye Sukja and thank you for loving me. I'm glad there is no more pain for you.