! “The Secret” of being a ‘Cowboy Missionary’! Part 2.

Wow! How time flies!!! Well only two days behind. Here we go!!!

Anyone who has went thru the process of getting Visa’s, know that it is a learning experience. First The Passport and then receiving a letter of invitation from some legal entity in the Country you are requesting to visit.
This letter was from a group of young Belorussian Christain men that Patrick had put together for this purpose and for getting "humanitarian Aid" into Minsk, for the Ministry. The group had to be made up of Nationals only.

Russia was easy and the Russian travel agency in Hollywood had it all dialed in. The Travel Agency sent my Passport to Russian Embassy in San Francisco and because all the “T”s crossed and “I”s dotted (Naturally for a … … fee) was back in a couple days.

Then “I” sent the Passport to The Belarusian Embassy in DC with Letter of invitation and two weeks later received the (Torn) empty envelope . Now I had to apply for another Pass Port and make several trips to LA and pay more fees etc. Back to DC for Belarusian Visa and barely back in time to make connections in San Francisco on Aero Flop … I mean Aeroflot to Moskava! (Moscow) A group of Russians in airport, with ½ hour till boarding, about 9 or 10 of them, took the cap off a half gallon of Vodka, threw the cap away, and passed it back and forth till it was time to board and naturally the Vodka was gone. I was praying that it was not because they had flown with the pilot before.

The plane was not full, so there was an empty seat between a young Siberian Law Student and me. He was studying International law in, … I believe it was South Dakota. In the North anyhow.

Shucks! I have to back up a minute, in order to go on. Before they left, Patrick had found an old book on survival Russian words & phrases and the family would come over several different times and we would spend 2 or 3 hours practicing what we thought was Russian. Why I was doing it with them, was beside me. I honestly was trying to learn with them, and as a teacher was taking the lead much of the time, in order to expedite their learning.

Nevertheless back on the plane, I strike up this conversation with this young man and I find out that his father is a big shot in the Government and there were some things, about he would not talk.

One of the things I found out, was our Russian Lessons put me way behind, as far as the lessons this young man was giving in me in Russian there on the plane. I was talking to one of the Saws’ daughters a couple weeks ago on the phone and she was laughing, as she reminded me of the Russian Lessons at my house before they left. They still had the book with them when they finally landed in Moscow, 8 hours late and missed their connection. She told me that when they showed the book to someone that they were told that the author did not know what he was talking about in this book and all the Russian they had learned was to no avail for them too!

Therefore, I learned how to count to 2, say thank you and was in Belarus two months before I finally heard how to say Please and Your Welcome the right way. They said it so fast that I did not hear one syllable ever, until I held someone’s mouth and made them say it one syllable at a time. Keep in mine that up until then, they would smile and the younger ones outright laughed, every time I said it!

Now, let us get back to my new Siberian friend and the flight into Moscow. I really enjoyed talking to him and he seemed to like me and we talked about a lot of things, except like I said, when it came to why he was on his way back to Moscow and a few other obvious things, he would look uncomfortable and change the subject.

When we landed, he headed for a gate that had nobody at it, while I was herded into one of 10 or 12 that were already 40 deep. When I looked up, he was gone. Finally, thru the line about an hour later, I am looking at Immigration and he is looking at my passport and Russian Visa with this puzzled look on his face, as he is asking me questions in Russian and I do not understand.

Low and Behold … the Siberian reappears, I found out he came back to get his baggage and as he walks by he sees me, and was wondering what was going on. Customs would show him my passport, pointing at something and then the Visa, pointing and shaking his head.

I do not know what was said, yet the young man spoke to customs sternly and with authority and customs nodded his head, stamped my documents and handed them back to me with a smile. You tell me! My seat on that plane was ordained and I know who was sitting in that empty seat! This is a part of what it means to be “A Cowboy Missionary”! 'Partaking In The Kingdom'!

I went for the baggage. I had two big suitcases and a giant duffle bag that had a couple rollers on the bottom end, plus a backpack that I carried on. It was quite an experience getting it stacked up so I could pull them with both hands.

I went on thru the airport to the non-passenger area and HOW Blessed I was when I seen this young woman with a sign with my name on it! Ulia could speak English very well and she had hired a driver to pick me up and take us to her Mom & Dad’s Flat, about 50 km on the other side of Moscow. Patrick had prearranged this, when they knew I was coming. In fact, Ulia had barely returned from Belarus and was only with her folks a day when I came in.

It was the middle of night, nevertheless the driver would point out different spots and she would translate for me. When he pointed out the Kremlin, it was all lit up with different colored lights and I told Ulia that it looked like Disney Land. She hesitantly told the driver what I said and with out any missed licks he responded with, “That Is What It Is” and all 3 of us cracked up! When we got to her folk’s building I was so wound up that, the Driver and Ulia had to tell me 2 or 3 times to pay him the $50 bucks that I owed for the ride.

We went up four flights of stairs, made three or four trips and then to meet Ulia’s Parents. Keep in mind this is a two room flat and Ulia gave up her room to me, while she slept with her mom and her dad slept on the couch.

Need to get this posted so I can go to bed now, myself. We will pick this up in the next post and explain “The Tentmaker” too. Oh! Before I skip over it, remember when my first Passport and Belarusian Visa was lost. The new Passport had a new number and the Russian Visa had the old Passport number on it. That is what had the Customs Agent in a quandary until my friend straightens him out. Later!

©2007