I have lived in Russia for 39 days. I'm comfortable navigating the city, I've picked up a bit of the language (for as much as I have been out), and I have settled in nicely. Though at day 38, I stumbled. I was pick-pocketed by a man who stole my wallet with my passport. For the 3 hours that I went through a foreign country without any form of identification on me, I was completely panic stricken. Yes, I can go on and on about how amazing God is for getting my wallet back (which I could do for a very very long time), but that is not what I am here to talk about. I'm here to talk about the repercussions of this incident on the mental and spiritual parts of my life. Yes, obviously I am praising God, but as I sat there listening to the police talk back and forth to each other, so quickly that I don't even pick up a single word, I felt absolutely alone. I hugged my arms and shut down. I had no hope, knowing Russia, to get anything back. My passport, my money, my precious photos. The end of that story, is that GOD IS GOOD, and only He could get it back. I'm still completely screwed up. I am, in no way, trying to take away from God's glory. I am, however, being real.
I didn't know what vulnerable was until I had nothing. I had no way to identify myself (legally, copies don't work) and I couldn't pay the 17 rubles (50 cents) to ride the bus back to my house. Thankfully, I had Kim and Natasha to help me. But in these moments of complete vulnerability, I felt completely helpless. I literally stood in silence as everyone around me did the work. The talking, the translating, the movement. I stood, cowering in on myself, lacking any control over what was going on. I wanted to go home, to America, in these moments. What made it worse, was even if I quit and wanted to fly back to America, legally I couldn't do it! I was helpless. While prayer is ridiculously amazing, and what you should always do, I felt like that wasn't enough. Like I wasn't enough. For some reason, the only think I could think was "why would I ever get my wallet back? I'm just me." Or how every single person back in America was probably laughing (after the initial freak out) that of course, this would happen to Teresa. I hated myself.
Literally, this happened to me because I spoke English in a public place and I was seen as this stupid girl, who, if someone just stepped on my foot to distract me, they could get my wallet right out of my lap. (Yes, this is what happened.) I hated being American. I hated Russia. I hated everything I stood for. All because some jerk thought it would be fun to steal from me. I've never felt so violated (and I've had my wallet stolen in America) in my life. I've come to this place to help spread Love, and here I was, the victim of the opposite.
I'm okay, severely homesick, but I'm okay. I just can't shake this feeling. I have everything (minus $75) back, and yet, I can't get myself to go outside. I don't want to speak in public again, I don't want to be vulnerable, I don't want to be taken advantage of. I want to feel good. I want to be happy. I was doing SO well outside of this issue. I was finally settled, and now I feel unsafe just walking down the street. My self esteem has fallen off a cliff.
I know this is the enemy. It's so obvious. But I can't get myself to stop let go.
Friday, July 25, 2014
Thursday, July 3, 2014
The Real Russia
I've spent the last 17 days in a haze of Russian joy. I've seen many sights, I've swam in the Black Sea, I've travelled halfway across the country... but none of that compares to the day I just had. About a week ago, I met a girl on the bus who couldn't help but talk to Steve and I because we were speaking English. She was overjoyed to have someone to talk to and I was happy to talk with her. We exchanged phone numbers and planned to hang out at some point. I received a text two days ago, which lead to plans this afternoon.
I walked excitedly to the bus stop at the top of Bytha (Beet-ha) hill and we rode to the mall. I found out that she was 13 (major shocker for me, thinking she was 16 or 17) and she was shocked to find out that I was 23. She told me that she had 3 friends for me to meet and we talked happily until we got to the mall. This is where reality started setting in.
Before we got to the door she asked if it was okay for her to smoke. In my shocked state, I somehow nodded yes. I stayed silent the entire time, in confusion as to what this girl was doing! We walked through the mall and out a random exit to meet her friend and they continued walking to an empty parking lot where we met up with a man. He was 35. He kissed her cheek and gave her a few rides around the parking lot on his motorcycle. I stayed silent. All I could think about was the fact that this girl was thirteen years old and had a friend who was 35 and a man. My shock didn't stop there.
We started walking towards the mall again and another person met us. This time, it was her boyfriend. He is 26. I might have spoken 30 more words after this moment, mostly because I literally had no idea what to say. (Though I asked in a very confused state why she was dating him at such a young age.) She told me they would get married when she turned sixteen and then he started teaching me some very inappropriate words in Russian. I did not repeat any of them. She and her best friend talked about sexual things and asked why I wasn't married. I shrugged my shoulders. We went shopping in H&M and when a sufficient amount of time passed, I made some pathetic excuse about getting home. They walked me to the bus, she hugged me, and she told me she would text me to hang out again. She had fun.
On the bus ride home, all I wanted to do was cry. My heart was breaking more and more as I spent 40 minutes riding home. Within 5 minutes of walking through the front door I was crying as I told Steve what I had witnessed.
Why does this bother me so much? I have been living in the "honeymoon" phase for the last 2 weeks and it finally hit me why I need to be here. While I have been explaining the situation as hopeless to everyone in America, I literally had nothing but statistics to base this perspective on. I had no idea what I was committing to when I said yes. And here I am, completely shell shocked with this thirteen year old girl. I think of my little sister who is thirteen and I am so beyond thankful that she is nothing like this. My heart throbs with pain as I think about this girl who is living her life carelessly, without any moral compass.
I can't help but ask God why I had to meet her and He kindly chuckles and tells me that I don't really need to ask Him. This girl is Russia. She is who I am praying for. She is who I am building life and relationships with. Maybe not her, directly, but everyone like her. I can't sit back and watch as these little girls subject themselves to men twice their age. I cannot watch as they make disgusting gestures and laugh. I cannot look at them as they sexualize themselves in this culture. I have to love her and those like her. I have to pray for them. I have to somehow lead them, which clearly I cannot do on my own. I need God to use me to speak up. I can't let fear stand in the way. I cannot remain silent and I cannot accept this lifestyle. I need to be an example and show them the importance of the love of Jesus instead of a man. I need to do something. That is why I am here. This is why I've been called to Russia.
I walked excitedly to the bus stop at the top of Bytha (Beet-ha) hill and we rode to the mall. I found out that she was 13 (major shocker for me, thinking she was 16 or 17) and she was shocked to find out that I was 23. She told me that she had 3 friends for me to meet and we talked happily until we got to the mall. This is where reality started setting in.
Before we got to the door she asked if it was okay for her to smoke. In my shocked state, I somehow nodded yes. I stayed silent the entire time, in confusion as to what this girl was doing! We walked through the mall and out a random exit to meet her friend and they continued walking to an empty parking lot where we met up with a man. He was 35. He kissed her cheek and gave her a few rides around the parking lot on his motorcycle. I stayed silent. All I could think about was the fact that this girl was thirteen years old and had a friend who was 35 and a man. My shock didn't stop there.
We started walking towards the mall again and another person met us. This time, it was her boyfriend. He is 26. I might have spoken 30 more words after this moment, mostly because I literally had no idea what to say. (Though I asked in a very confused state why she was dating him at such a young age.) She told me they would get married when she turned sixteen and then he started teaching me some very inappropriate words in Russian. I did not repeat any of them. She and her best friend talked about sexual things and asked why I wasn't married. I shrugged my shoulders. We went shopping in H&M and when a sufficient amount of time passed, I made some pathetic excuse about getting home. They walked me to the bus, she hugged me, and she told me she would text me to hang out again. She had fun.
On the bus ride home, all I wanted to do was cry. My heart was breaking more and more as I spent 40 minutes riding home. Within 5 minutes of walking through the front door I was crying as I told Steve what I had witnessed.
Why does this bother me so much? I have been living in the "honeymoon" phase for the last 2 weeks and it finally hit me why I need to be here. While I have been explaining the situation as hopeless to everyone in America, I literally had nothing but statistics to base this perspective on. I had no idea what I was committing to when I said yes. And here I am, completely shell shocked with this thirteen year old girl. I think of my little sister who is thirteen and I am so beyond thankful that she is nothing like this. My heart throbs with pain as I think about this girl who is living her life carelessly, without any moral compass.
I can't help but ask God why I had to meet her and He kindly chuckles and tells me that I don't really need to ask Him. This girl is Russia. She is who I am praying for. She is who I am building life and relationships with. Maybe not her, directly, but everyone like her. I can't sit back and watch as these little girls subject themselves to men twice their age. I cannot watch as they make disgusting gestures and laugh. I cannot look at them as they sexualize themselves in this culture. I have to love her and those like her. I have to pray for them. I have to somehow lead them, which clearly I cannot do on my own. I need God to use me to speak up. I can't let fear stand in the way. I cannot remain silent and I cannot accept this lifestyle. I need to be an example and show them the importance of the love of Jesus instead of a man. I need to do something. That is why I am here. This is why I've been called to Russia.
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