The Wild, Wild East

Russians who live near the Pacific Coast here, familiar with the American "Wild West," sometimes joke that they are living in the "Wild East." This refers to more than the wildlife, in which the region is truly rich (e.g., we drove through a wildlife reserve meant to protect the critically endangered Amur leopard.) However, the "wildness" of the Far East is primarily tied with lack of contact of the region with the rest of the country, particularly with the federal government in Moscow. When you visit the Far East, you are struck pretty quickly with the differences that come with living much closer to China, Korea and Japan than even to central Siberia, not to mention the nation's capital.

Near the end of July, my family and I had the pleasure of taking part in a seminar for leaders in Lutheran congregations in the region, which has its center in Vladivostok. Dean Manfred Brockmann was able, for the 19th time, to find the significant financial resources needed to bring everyone together - from as far west  (1800 miles) as Chita, and as far northeast (1300 miles) as Magadan. You can read a bit more about the deanery here.

Seminar participants. Dean Brockmann is on the far left in the first row.

The theme of the seminar this year was "Education in the Lutheran Church;” it turned out that the theme arose at a very important turning point in the church here. During the past year, the seminary where I served as a teacher for 8 years, Novosaratovka, went through a great deal of change, the most significant being a move to a "modular" type of curriculum (somewhat similar to the one-course-at-a-time program that is used in some U.S. colleges). While the transition, as expected, was somewhat rough, it is possible that support from the church's leadership would have allowed the program to continue. In its absence, however, Seminary President Dr. Anton Tikhomirov made the decision to suspend full-time education there for the 2012-2013 academic year.  

Many lay preachers in the Far East had studied at Novosaratovka, and they were concerned about its future; Dr. Tikhomirov, who was present for part of the seminar, helped calm some of their fears. It is hoped that the General Synod in September (including visits from other former ELCROS churches that have used Novosaratovka for their educational needs) might come to some conclusions about how to reform education in our church. 

In addition to providing my own perspective on a Lutheran approach to education, I was responsible for leading lessons in Old Testament, New Testament, Church History. We used the Moravian daily texts (popular in devotions in the Siberian church) as an entry point for how to read the Bible, as well as covering topics of church history that might shed some light on our identity. There were a wide range of themes taught by others as well, from Luther's life to liturgy, the Augsburg Confession to homiletics. 

Not all of time in the Far East was so serious. Rather, it was serious, but in a different way. Whenever the schedule and the weather allowed , we spent our time near the water. The seminar was located a few hours south of Vladivostok (not too far from the border of North Korea, actually) at the cove of Vityaz. While I am quite accustomed to bad roads, what I saw here reached new “heights” of low quality. Yet, there is a certain (Russian) logic to it; local residence said that if the roads were good, they would destroy them. The roads being as they are limited the amount of visits to the area; for the first time, someone has explicitly told me what I long suspected here – roads are not a means to get from one place to another, but a barrier for doing so. Now it all makes sense! That thought will help me smile was I drive on bad roads in the future.

However, it was not my intent to write about the roads! What is worth writing about is the nature of the area. The area was very beautiful - a bit like California and a bit like Hawaii – dense flora and unusual fauna (my boys were particularly impressed by the sea urchins!) along a rugged coastline.

 Overall, my first trip to Russia's “wild East” made me want to go back there to visit the people and places that I had a chance to become acquainted with; the sooner this will happen, the better.

(And I'm blessed to know that it will happen soon, since I'll be accompanying an American church group to the Far East in September!)  

Krymsk

One of the strongest impressions from the past month comes from our first days in southern Russia. As we made our annual camping trip to Abrau-Durso, we drove through torrential rains. We knew that this was not convenient for setting up camp; we had no idea that the rain would be the cause of a tragic situation for our neighbors. Because of the isolation of our location a few days past before we even learned what had happened about 50 miles away in the city of Krymsk. We had driven through there before the rain started...and by the time we drove through again, many residents had lost their homes.

As I see it, no one is completely safe from natural disasters, and human decisions about where (in this case, in a valley) and how (in this case, mostly in cinder block homes) to live contribute to the circumstances that sometimes lead to tragic results. Yet, this case was different from disasters I've witnessed in the past. This time I saw a distrust towards the government that would make even my fellow Montanans look government-friendly in comparison. Immediately there were all sort of rumors about the tragedy...and the circumstances around it certainly were strange. A large portion of Krymsk was washed away by a huge wave; people were asking, “how can rain lead to a wave?” There must have been dam broken somewhere, was the conclusion. And how could that happen? “The government blew it up” as a way to avoid the possibility of flooding for a more well-off area, people speculated. And government emergency services and the region's governor, while denying any wrong-doing, were very slow in coming up with alternative answers. Officials spoke of around 160 deaths, while “everyone knew” that the local morgue, which holds up to 400, was full and that a grocery store warehouse was being used to hold more bodies. My apologies for the gruesome nature of such details, but it reflects the real thoughts and words of people in the area. The government did not help their case at all; it is clear that emergency warning systems didn't work, and that those with the right connections knew ahead of time about the approaching disaster...while the most vulnerable (the poor and elderly) were left to fend for themselves.

Despite all these very sad aspects of the tragedy, I witnesses once again the way Russians, when moved by pity for the neighbor, can be moved to give of their (sometimes very limited) resources to show support. Even more impressive were the efforts of volunteers who traveled to Krymsk in order help with cleanup; for Russia, this is a rather new mark of developing civil society.

Yet, once again, the government's reaction shows an enormous degree of mutual distrust. After the initial wave of public reporting on the event, lawmakers proposed a bill that would control and limit the efforts of volunteers; a need, it was said, that was recognized after volunteers in Krymsk “spread ugly rumors.”

I don't pretend to know what really happened in Krymsk. What is clear enough, though, is that the people do not trust the government and vise versa. This situation is in no one's best interests, and it multiplies the negative effects of tragedy.

Russian Summer 2012

Despite the fact that we did not visit my homeland this summer, this July we probably came close to covering as many miles as those years when I was in the U.S. on“home assignment.” We were on the coast of the Black Sea and the Sea of Japan, the banks of the rivers Angara and Ob. My mind is still filled with many and various impressions; in my next few posts, I'll share some of them with you. For now - a few pictures.


The places we visited (all near Russia's southern border) are marked with green.

Our "dacha" near the Black Sea (Abrau-Durso)

Abrau lake with an Orthodox church in the background

My wife Natasha took this picture and shared the following insight: 

"Do not lean!" (written on the train door window) is not only good advice

for using public transport, it is also an appropriate reminder to take care

of the ecological wonder that is Lake Baikal.

Reflecting in Irkutsk

Vladivostok's new suspension bridge disappearing into the fog.

On the Sea of Japan south of Vladivostok