Enjoying Each Day

This past weekend the sun was out, the sky was clear, and I was going stir crazy inside. (If you know me, then you know what I am talking about) I may have literally been twitching. Miles must have somehow tapped into my brain, because he asked if I was up for an excursion to the park. YES! So, an hour on the metro later, we left the gloom of the underground and found our way to the park.  We walked through tree-lined pathways until we came to several churches that were nestled just off of the river. Like the rest of the Orthodox churches in Moscow, they were grand and beautiful on the outside, and humble and cozy on the inside. 

We then made our way to another large church, surrounded by a large concrete wall. The cutout archways in the wall perfectly framed the scenery behind it. I could see a bright blue sky and the Moscow River rippling under the sun - I literally took off running. It was so beautiful my words and pictures could never do it justice. It was hard for me to realize just how much I loved nature until I was deprived of it.  For lunch we packed sandwiches, and we sat on the steps of the bell tower to eat. As I rested against the ancient building, the bells began to play and the wind danced across my face – it’s the happiest I have been since I’ve been here. I could see the city from here, and had a new appreciation of it. I felt part of Moscow and knew that, in some small way, I would now be a part of its history. Ah that wonderful feeling of being tiny. :) After lunch we walked along the river, thrilled to see the ice had melted. After being cooped up all winter, the river was now free and moving under the sun, and the local ducks were joining in its celebration. Exploring a little further, we found a small wooded pathway that dipped and curved through the hillside. The birds began a light tune, and the wind’s quick gusts and stream’s steady trickle joined together in a forest symphony.

Before I go to sleep every night, I lean over and mark the day off of my calendar. As I flip through it, though, I can’t help but think ahead. Pictures in my mind turn with each flip of the calendar page. June and July are blurry, but they are sunny and warm. I smile at August because I know I will be home by then. School will have just started and I will be stretched out under the shadow of the flagpole.  Yes, August’s picture is definitely the LSU parade grounds. September will be busy. School will be in full swing, as will the sleepless nights. It will be filled with routines, alarm clocks, and coffee.  Pictures of the coffee house and pajama parties in studio fill my mind, and I change the page. October is painted in purple and gold. Cheering, singing, and football dominate my mind’s view. The air is changing, and it is fresh and new. Excitement rides along the cool October breeze, as I tighten my scarf and stand small in the stands of Death Valley.  On and on I flip, and on and on the pictures come until I rewind back to march; to the present. I realize that I hardly acknowledged its space in the calendar. I live out an incredible day, but give it only brief acknowledgement before crossing it off and flipping to April – to the future. Once again, my mind is months ahead of my body, and I am daydreaming about tomorrow. Its silly really, when you give it some thought. Neither April nor May, nor even tomorrow are guaranteed; however, today I do have. Today was given to me, and is filled with the joy of knowing Him. Each small box that marks the days on the calendar is like a perfectly wrapped gift from the Lord, bought and paid for by Christ.  

Weekend getaway

This weekend I traveled to a small town outside of Moscow. When I say  “travel” I do not mean what you would normally think of. I realize that I have taken the ease of traveling in America for granted – walk 15 meters or so to the car and go. That is all. Here, you walk to the metro, ride the metro for 45 min or so, wait for the train, ride the train for over three hours, take a car or bus 40 min to the settlement, park the car down the road, and finally make it to the house. Now, that is hard-core traveling. There is no last minute runs home. It was certainly an adventure though.

Forty minutes from everything else, nestled between snow banks and pine trees, is a small settlement of Kaluga.  There are a few apartment flats, a couple of houses, endless fields, a recreational center, and a small tin store. For miles that is it, and it was wonderful. The family we stayed with are the parents of one of our Russian friends. From the moment we arrived, they were incredibly hospitable. We didn’t speak each other’s language but it was never a problem. They offered us warm clothes and a warm meal, and I couldn’t be more grateful.  In fact, I think I am still full from visiting. His mother cooked every meal and served us the whole time. When I would finish my plate she would ask if I wanted more. Id say no thank you, she would ask why and gesture for just a little more food. “Chute Chute” shed ask. “A little?” Id say ok, and she would pile on the food. Don’t trust a woman housewife when she says “only a little more” ;).

I was incredibly impressed by this woman. She cooked, she cleaned, she worked, took care of the sick grandmother, sung in the National choir, played volleyball, and was just a wonderful person. She really did it all. Russian women are amazing. I do not want to give the impression that I say “housewife” in a negative way. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, and I almost wondered if she was taken for granted; however, after being there for five minutes I could tell that wasn’t the case. Her and her husband were sweet together. They both were hospitable, and he helped serve tea and cut bread, and if there wasn’t a place to sit she would sit on his lap. You could tell she absolutely loved her family. It made me miss my family a lot. There’s just something comforting about a mother.

On Sunday we celebrated the coming of spring. We went to the festival and watched the activities. They had a pole climbing competition, food, a raffle, and the burning of “winter”. We were entered into the raffle and won 30 kilos of potatoes, 3 tons of manure, and an oven mitt. Id say we came home BIG STINKING winners! :)

After the raffle we were abducted by the sweetest women and played dress up. She thought it would be fun to play “Barbie” with the American girls. She put us in traditional Russian dresses and made us pose around the room. It was both a fun and extremely awkward situation. Nobody was speaking English, and we were all laughing and talking at once. My heading was spinning but it was a lot of fun, and certainly a one of a kind experience. The same lady is also a National singer. Their group is amazing – I mean incredible. I was very much impressed.

 

This weekend was amazing, and it was nice to get out and see “real” Russia. The air was fresh, the stars were bright, and the people were friendly. I could not have had a better time.

unified in Him

The weeks here are beginning to feel like days, as the squares on my calendar seem to be filling up with “x’s” rapidly.  So, I want to say that time is passing quickly. When I look back on it as a whole though, it is as if time has tricked me, and has not passed at all. I have only been here a month, but it feels like much longer. I do not really know whether to say it is flying by or dragging on. Time is as indecisive here as it is everywhere else, in that some days are fleeting while others seem endless.

Last week I finally got connected with a church here in Moscow. Ten a.m Sunday morning we headed out, and after eight metro stops, two changes, and one attempt at asking for directions, we found the church. The small Russian woman who helped us was sweet and gave us candy (yes, I took candy from a strange lady on the street). When we told her we were American students, she responded with excitement and a lot of talking, smiling, and pointing. I sure wish I knew what she was saying. “я не понимаю” I kept saying ( “I don’t understand.” ) She smiled and laughed, and then continued on in Russian, smiling and pointing. So, I went back to smiling and nodding. Finally, we got there. On the third floor of a Planet Fitness building, we found people from all nations worshiping and praising the God I know and love. Hands of different colors were raised in praise to Christ.  How big our God is! There were students from Ghana, Nigeria, Korea, China, India, Russia, all over the States and more. When we walked in, the choir was singing about searching and finding none like our Lord. “I searched all over, and found nobody like You” she sang. She may have literally been all over, I thought. Hearing her proclaiming truth through her song brought me peace and comfort, and I joined her in worshiping our God. When we came back to the hostel we told some of our friends and they too may join next weekend. This week has been one of the fleeting ones I was speaking of, since it is already Sunday again. I look forward to my second visit to this church.

I am also realizing how much I took the Rings convenience for granted. I am by no means saying that my love of my church is limited to the fact that it is convenient. I am noticing, though, that it is easier to be committed when you know all of the people, it’s a 5 min drive or walk in pleasant weather, and is just familiar overall. Maybe my commitment to the church was based on the actual church, rather than God. I want to love the church (capital C) because HE is committed to and loves the church. Good music, good people, convenience, and a cool pastor are great things – but, by themselves, are empty.  I want to be part of any church that shares in my beliefs because it is part of a movement; a part of His plan. The foundation of my love for the church cant be because I think the service is awesome. It must be because Gods will is awesome, and being part of whichever church I am attending at the time is part of that will. It is going to take a new kind of commitment I think, but I am going to have a lot of weeks to work on it. I will keep taking it one day at a time.

Days like these are wonderful and are the ones that fly by, but the longest days are those that I feel most like a foreigner. Every giggle at my speech, every second glance from passing people, and every judgmental stare on the metro is intensified. It is on these days that I miss the bliss of my usual naïve self; days that I miss my natural reaction of assuming that everything people are saying in Russian is a good thing and they all love foreigners. They say ignorance is bliss, and I must agree with this unknown “they”.  I often can’t sleep at night and so I am allowed too much time to think of these things. This is the case again tonight. As I sit here writing this, I can look out over Moscow from my window. The converging streets, the colorful blinking lights of buildings, and the smoke from all-night roadside food stands are all in my view. I can see others out there who are awake as well, and I feel no different from the people of Moscow. They, like myself, never sleep, are watching the same blinking lights, walk the same streets, eat from the same vendors, and are under the loving protection of the same God. We may speak different languages, wear different clothes, and perceive each other differently, but we are not so different after all. We are ALL created in His image, and in that we have unity. We are connected not by our cultural traits, but by the One who gave them to us.  Whether I wake in Louisiana or Russia, I still wake to see the sun He created for us. It is the same sun Abraham, David, Christ and all those before me woke to see, and is the same sun that those after me will sit under. It is a reminder of His eternal love and glory that connects all life. My home is wherever He is – I am home.

 

The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
whose voice is not heard.
 Their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
and its circuit to the end of them,
and there is nothing hidden from its heat. 

Psalm 19

Everyday life..in moscow

The weeks here are beginning to feel like days, as they are flying by. Though it also seems slow - as a whole I mean. My calendar is filled with "x's" and shows that I have only been here a month; however it feels much longer than that. Moscow is becoming "home" and when I hear people speaking in Russian it hardly seems foreign.

We have not run out of things to do yet. The other day, a few of us roamed around Moscow and ended up at a Georgian restaurant. It was delicious. We managed to get by with our terrible Russian, and ordered well (in my opinion)

For valentines day we went bowling! Yes, bowling. It was easily one of the best valentines days ive spent. I am beginning to grow very fond of everyone here, and I may be dreading the day we all part. Other than that, we have begun incorporating movie nights into our weeks. We use the projector and our little "family" piles up into one of the rooms and spends the night watching movies. This has been one of my favorite things. While its freezing outside, we are warm and cozy inside.

Not a ton of things have happened, but all of it has been wonderful. We are all just living life, but in a different city.

This past week has been enjoyable, and filled with activities. We started our weekend with a group breakfast. We invited some of our Russian friends over, and I made a stack of pancakes and fruit syrup for us. In preparation, I woke up early to go find baking powder at the store. Ive always loved mornings and find them to be a rush of excitement and energy. Walking out into the early morning cold though, is a whole new rush in itself. A walk to and from the grocery can easily replace a morning cup of coffee. After I made it back, I discovered I got backing soda rather than powder (hey everythings in Russian. I tried.) So, we did without and it still worked out ok. We said grace together, and it felt like we were one big family. For dinner we made porkchops, potatoes, and mushrooms in a cream sauce, and again it felt like family. There was definitely something comforting about the experience, and I hope we continue to make meals together. I still get a kick out of wandering down to the market, picking out food, and then trying to make it. I feel less like a foreigner with every trip I make to the store on my own.

The next part of our weekend involved trying out the Russian clubs. I think it may be safe to say that that will be my last experience at the clubs. At home, one would normally go out around 11pm and return home at 2:30am. Here, though, there is a slight dilemma with that plan. The metro is closed from 1am- 5:30 am, and our hostel is closed from 1:30 – 6:30 am. When you go out in Moscow, you stay out in Moscow. You are trapped- a slave to the metro system you could say. I made the mistake of wearing high heels. Now, I don’t consider myself to be a sissy, and four or five hours in heels is manageable; nine hours dancing and walking around the city in heels is not. Allow me to be a bit dramatic for a min: It was horrible!!!!!! Ok. It felt good to get that out. After dancing all night and walking around Moscow to kill time, I was ready to cry. I was sure that the next step was going to be it for me, and my feet were going to give out.  I found myself singing show tunes and praise songs in my head to keep from complaining and frowning. Roma (one of my Russian friends) walked beside me and distracted me a little by muttering random facts about each building. Part of me wanted to hug him and thank him, and the impatient part of me wanted to strangle him ;) He really did help take my mind off of it, though, and we eventually made it home. I slept the entire next day, and had trouble walking because my feet were STILL bruised. Needless to say, if we do go again, I may be wearing my vans. : )

The next night, boredom started to set in so we jumped on a metro and explored the city. First, we stopped and dined on sushi in a small alley restaurant, and toasted to the night ahead. Our next stop - Red Square. I didnt know if it would be exciting, since we had already been during the day, but It was well worth the 56 rubles it took to get there. It was beautiful at night! When we entered the court, we were completely surrounded by the flickering of the lights on the massive buildings. In the center, there was a skating ring and people skated and laughed. There joy was contagious. We were all running around, singing, and goofing off. I couldnt believe I was just playing in Russia. We skipped around the court, payed our respects to Lenin's tomb of course, and stopped at St. Bails Cathedral. It seemed to stand even taller at night then it did when the sun was shining down on it. The glow of its lights added to its height, and certainly to its beauty. The colors shining from the grand building seemed to cast out the haze of the city's smog, and for a few minutes we all just stopped to admire its glory. It made me think of something John Piper had said about feeling best when we feel tiny and insignificant. It was true. Standing small, in the presence of something bigger than myself, is humbling and comforting. 

Yesterday, we went on an excursion around the university. I could not have been more impressed. The opportunities offered to the students here is incredible. This university really strives to make international relationships, so that their students may have as many experiences possible for success. Each department seems to be very focused on the individual student and their trade, and provides a lot of equipment for optimum learning. I am really seeing the beauty in international programs, and the benefits of them. The last part of the tour, was to the military department. We each got to "play" with old guns. I felt a little GI Jane in my leather jacket, holding a machine gun. I wont lie, I like it. (though i really had a hard time keeping a straight face.)

just another day in russia

Each new day continues to consist of new excursions; ones, when done at home, would hardly be classified as an adventure. Here, each new trip outside is something exhilarating and new. A few days ago, we laced up our skates and tried our skills (or lack of skills) out on the ice. It was wonderful! We teased each other and tried new tricks, and I somehow managed not to hit the ice…it wasn’t until we were walking to the hostile that I ate snow… figures. Last night a few of us went to a cinema that plays English movies with Russian subtitles. Our movie of choice (and by choice I mean the only option) was “Four Lions”, which I actually found to be a very well written movie about terrorist bombers – its sounds weird, I know.  It uses humor to imply stupidity in suicide bomber’s religion, but also manages to reflect the sadness in these confused beliefs.  It is a little different, but you should check it out if you have the chance.  

I had a washing machine faux pas the other day. I know this seems like a silly thing to blog about, but I need the sympathy in this traumatic event J. It turns out that Russian blue jeans must have a stronger dye in them. My white socks, colored shirts, and a new pair of jeans went into the wash in their respected colors , and they all emerged blue. Blue! I feel like this is a mistake that you see on the movies, but never really happens in real life. It really happens, and im that girl with the dyed blue socks and shirts. At least it wasn’t the stereotypical, “a red sock got into my laundry and now my shirts are pink” situation. At least it is a little outside norm. (totally kidding about needing the sympathy. Im handling the unfortunate even quite well id say ;) ).

Tonight I am warding off the cold and homesickness with some good ole, homemade, chicken and dumplings. I think it may be the perfect solution for a dreary day. The hostel’s kitchen tiles are old, and the lighting is dim and flickering. The stoves seem quite experienced, and it shows in their rusted appearance. By itself, the tiny room is cold and bleak. With the mix of aromas filling the air, though, the tiny Russian kitchen becomes quite inviting and almost comforting. Instead of the hostel’s kitchen, it becomes my kitchen, and I feel at home. I have been in search of some consistency here, and I think I may have found it. Hopefully, preparing dinner will become an expected event.

Among all the inconsistency lately, has been the weather. (yes, I am talking about the weather again.) Yesterday it was very warm and still in the city. The air was thick and breezeless, and the usually snow covered walkways were layered with brown slush.  Today, though, the snow is steadily falling, hitchhiking its way down on gusts of wind. I watch the dizzying movement until the snowflakes finally come to rest somewhere on the ground. As the day goes on, Moscow snuggles deeper and deeper under a white blanket. Each snowflake, unique it in its own design, is tiny and beautiful and known by God.  Where it falls is unknown, but it is sure to contribute to the intricate, wintery surroundings; each flake is part of something bigger.

As I am getting to know the girls here more, I am realizing how unique and beautiful each is.  Like snowflakes, they too are small in the world, beautiful, and known by God. Before we knew where we would land, He did. In all his sovereignty, he placed us here together -  By his grace and good works, we are intricately designed to be part of something bigger.  

my true light

It seems as though reality finally boarded the plane to join me here in Moscow. It wasn’t until today that it finally sunk in that this will be my home for the next four months. This isn’t a  two-week vacation that will be coming to an end right at the point of, “I had a good trip, but now im ready to go home.” This is more or less a string of eight of those vacations. I understand that wherever you are is the real world, but humor me when I say that those two weeks getaways are like an escape from said real world. Today, it was like realizing that Moscow is my “real world” right now; and if I want to keep up the TV show theme, you could say it is like “true life: I live in Moscow”.   Insane.

What I miss more than I considered I would, is the sun. The days are short here, and the sun seems content to show itself only on occasion.  Without it, I am subconsciously aware and affected by the gray of the city. It isn’t a thought that I carry in my head constantly, but is more like a small, unseen weight that pulls on my mood throughout the day. The gray buildings, cars, and dust seem to try to shade my mood to match their color.

I started this blog last night but didnt finish. I went to sleep predicting another gray day to follow, and intending on writing about Moscow’s complete lack of  light. Leave it to the world to make a liar out of me, though, for today it was beautiful and the sun was out! It was as if the clouds heard me, and parted ways just for me. Today was our first day of class, and though it was interesting, I was practically bouncing with excitement to get out (while still maintaining my newfound, cool and collected, “russian” exterior of course).  We learned how to say “it is good weather,” and that was like dangling food in front of a hungry puppy. I had to get outside. As soon as class ended, we headed for the park and I lost my front of disinterest; the American girl in me was unleashed! We giggled and sang, and we had a photo shoot. I threw the snow in the air,  and its cool sting on my face was wonderful. Tomorrow there is little chance of another cloudless sky, but I  will be content.

Though I do miss the frequent occurrence of the sun’s light, it is nothing but a small candle compared to the light and joy to be found in the Lord. The gray shades, of the tiniest dust particles, cannot overcome my heart’s mood when it is set on the Lord, nor can the grayest and tallest of any building. I wouldn’t complain for a second if the sun were to come out day after day, but do I need it to? No, I guess I don’t. My joy is not in our sun – my joy is in the Son.

 "your word is like a lamp for my feet and a light for my path." 

       Psalm 119:105

a little slideshow :)