A lemon, three fish and an old orange shoe

Ruth Loland

We carefully watched where we placed our steps as we walked home from Zaporozhye Bible College in Ukraine after a day of teaching English. It had rained that day and turned the dirt paths and broken walkways into a slippery obstacle course. My teaching partner and I were having the adventure of our lives, and learning how to navigate our way around this fascinating city was part of it.

"And what," you might well ask, "were you doing so far away from home, at your age and in your condition?" Many of my friends had discouraged with faint praise my plans to respond to an invitation to teach a two-week English immersion course in Ukraine. They pointed out that I was a senior citizen still recovering from knee surgery; they reminded me that I was so hard of hearing that I found it difficult to travel even in this country; they were flabbergasted that I would be travelling by myself. How would I manage to carry all the suggested items (teaching materials, reams of copy paper, food, water bottle, medical supplies, small gifts and a scarf to wear in church)? Some predicted that I would be robbed because I would be carrying cash (credit cards and traveller's cheques being of no use where I was going).

Despite the serious concerns of these friends, they assured me that they would pray for me, and I continued with my preparations. Never for a moment did I doubt that it was God's plan for me to go on this particular journey.

I left Vancouver on a beautiful day in September, 1997, arrived safely in Kiev and spent the night in the Borispol Hotel.

The next day, a young pastor arrived to drive me to Zaporozhye. June Offenderlein, an American teacher, was already in the van. June and I had not previously met, and neither of us had ever been to Ukraine. Both of us are retired teachers, both of us love to travel, and both of us were excited by the thought of a new experience in ministry. Very soon we discovered the most amazing commonality of all. I am severely hard of hearing, and June is a competent sign language interpreter. Neither of us felt that that "just happened", and it was a confirmation to June that God wanted her to be in Ukraine.

Zaporozhye Bible College is a ministry of Greater Europe Mission and is overseen by the Baptist Union of Zaporozhye, which consists of approximately 65 churches. Most of these churches have begun since 1991 when Ukraine became independent, and there is a great need for trained leaders. Many of the students at the college have become Christians only within the past few years, and all are in need of Bible college education. Selected in consultation with church leaders, they prepare for future ministry by enrolling in courses in theology, Christian education or music. At the beginning of the school year, there is a mandatory English immersion course to enable the students to read English theological books, as there are few written in Russian, the principal language of eastern Ukraine.

My students were aware that many people live in better conditions than they do; many of their friends have left Ukraine in search of a better earthly life. For now, at least, most of my class planned to finish their education in Ukraine and remain there to help their country. Though they told me that in many ways their lives are more difficult now than under communism, they are thankful for the freedom they possess to preach the gospel and worship.

The difficulties of the people's lives could not be ignored. Ukrainians appreciate beautiful things; the chandeliers, tile mosaics, flowers, ornate wall coverings and faded elegance everywhere were evidence of that. Witnessing these people reduced to selling their possessions on the street was a humbling experience. Should we buy the lemon from the man who had only one to sell, and ignore the woman next to him trying to sell the old orange shoe? What about the 20 other people next to them, attempting to raise a little cash by selling such things as four weiners, three tiny fish, two cabbages displayed on a wooden chair or a plastic pop bottle filled with gasoline?

Few pastors are paid anything at all; those that are might be paid $15 US per month. Everyone else who serves in the church does so as a service to God, without remuneration. If a new church building is built, the people build it, literally, and bring the bricks along, too. Sacrifice is known to these believers, who say, "If we have potatoes (and nothing else) to eat today, it is a good day."

My visit to Ukraine was brief measured in days, and the longest journey I have ever taken measured in perplexing, troubling and touching memories. I travelled to another world without leaving this one.

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