We are blessed to have three Russian language students from America working with us as they attend a local university.  They all arrived in September.  Since they are new to Ufa, I have asked them to write a short summary for this blog on their first impressions of the city.  This is this first of three posts.  While reading this first post, you will see that not everything conforms to the way we often romanticize life in another culture.  However, when we have a greater purpose in mind, it often keeps our eyes forward as we press toward the mark.

So, Bashkiria. The food's not that bad. And neither are the bathrooms.
 
And what else do we need to be comfortable?

After a somewhat lengthy flight, I arrived. At last at last, RUSSIA. The euphoria lasted for about 2 weeks, but came to a crashing halt when the cashier became angry on account of my inability to understand the question "need a bag?" I spent about a week with my lips pursed in public, but I've gradually crept out of the shell.  I can even laugh or joke with people in public now. OK, sometimes.
The language studies are hard but, like everything here, it shocks you at first then you adapt. Signs are in two languages, Bashkir and Russian.  Sometimes Bashkir is on the left, sometimes on the right. You never really know, but you get used to it. You get used to not finding what you want at the grocery store. You get used to the tasty sour cream in your soup. You get used to the trams, the trolleys, the crowds, the snow, the darkness, the “Are they speaking English?” glances.
 
 But what makes the city tick?  It seems to be a city of many students. But then again, I've certainly seen more babushki (grandmothers) in public than ever before.  This is the industrial center of the republic, so many people come here from the villages seeking work.  Cars are generally for those with a little extra money, so we pack in tight in the tiny buses, with little concept of space to yourself.  Surprisingly this ties in with the stern face many people wear in public.  This is ironic.  We live so close together, but keep each other at a distance.  Though, I think the vestiges of the Soviet Union, like the stern public face, are gradually washing away.
 
This is especially true among the youth, so many of whom are eager to practice English and hear about America.  It's a neat tool-- who ever thought being a dumb foreigner would draw people in instead of pushing them away?  Just being American makes a lot of people want to befriend you.
The people here often are unwilling to have a heart-to-heart conversation with people who aren't close friends.  People they don't know, they can’t trust.  Religion is mostly viewed like ethnicity; it’s something your born with but not something you must act on all that often.  It’s part of your group heritage, not your individual life.  However, there are seekers.  Cornelius’s so to speak. There are those who are seeking GOD, who know the SHEPHERD’S voice, and who are getting ready to respond.  All we can do is present the gospel; the power lies with the Holy Spirit.  So, we push forward.  But hey, are we called to be victorious or persistent?
 
So, we persist.  We persist in prayer.  We, persist in righteousness.  We persist in standing firm.  We hold out the Word of life.  We take part in the ministry of reconciliation. "We implore you on CHRIST’S behalf--be reconciled to GOD!"  What honor is comparable to having our KING invite us into His work?  And behind all this, I remember a man on a cross, all for the sake of love.  So, I go to them outside the camp.  It's not important that I am comfortable, or wealthy, or safe, or even happy.  My GOD loves me, and remember his words to Levi "Ekolouthei moi!" ~"FOLLOW ME!"