North of the Arctic Circle Twenty Years Ago

                In my journal on May 31, 1995, I wrote, “Trivia:  We are closer to the North Pole than Moscow. We are about 750 miles from the North Pole.” I scribbled that bit of trivia in the top margin of my journal page when I was on a teaching trip to Russia. When I journaled that day, I was in Monchegorsk, a military and industrial city north of the Arctic Circle. It was the second Arctic city in Russia where we taught character education based on the life and teachings of Jesus.

                My school year at Woodland Elementary School wasn’t over when I left for Russia, but Phyllis Murphy and Cheryl Price, the superintendent and elementary principal, approved my early departure – as long as I completed the end-of-the-year responsibilities. The third graders I taught that spring enjoyed a crash course about the Kola Peninsula in Russia where I would be going, climaxing with the construction of “cool” hats modeled after the Laplanders’ traditional headwear.

Rhonda Brandt, Amber Phillips, Lauren Goad, Cassidi Pease, and
Jackie Kennedy

Karalea Corley and William Fosnight showing 
the Kola Peninsula on the globe.

Tyler Hillsberg, Aaron Cheves, Josh Alexander, William Gates, Jason 
Dilbeck,Travis Sawyers, Scott Brown, Brady Goad (partially seen). 
The boys were not thrilled about the hats - no wonder. Brady may 
have tried to get out of the picture with "that hat." Actually, it 
most likely was my hasty, poor photography.

Cassi Koch and Leslie Williams modeling
their hats.

           


           How difficult my departure on May 17, became when I found it coincided with Diana Widener’s memorial service. She had been in my Sunday School class in her upper elementary years. Her sudden death left the entire community sorrowing.  Therefore, with a heavy heart, I boarded the plane for London via Dallas.

Diana Widener (Love that smile) & Modene
 Royster, her maternal grandma, in 1990

                In London, our Western team formed as over fifty of us began arriving. We joined in Moscow with the Eastern team, made up of talented, linguistic interpreters from Russia. Our teams prepared for upcoming presentations on character training - at the invitation of each city’s minister of education.

In Kandalaksha, a bright high school student named Olya served as the interpreter for me as I taught Russian teachers in a small group. Nadezhda, an English teacher in Monchegorsk, acted as my interpreter during the convocation in her city.

Olya, my interpreter in Kandalaksha, Marina, Tanya,
              Bernadean, Ludumila, Galena, & Svetlana.
               Seated: Nadya, Pavel, son of Marina, & Valentina

   







Interesting experiences abounded during those two weeks north of the Arctic Circle. I never saw darkness in either city. I sat my alarm for 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. just to be sure. The area was having polar days.

                In Kandalaksha, Nan, my roommate, and I were invited to two Russian homes for dinner during the week. Several local teachers at one of their homes hosted the first evening. Other than Nan and I, the English teacher was the only other English speaker. We were treated royally, communicated quite a bit with gestures since our verbal communication was limited, and sang the Beatles’ hit, “Yesterday” repeatedly since the music teacher brought his guitar and that was one song we all could sing in English.

                Initially, resisting the urge to compare was challenging. Then one teacher told me the only other Americans that had ever visited their region were Canadian hockey players who had made fun of their city. I corrected her quickly, saying, “We all are North Americans, but we are Americans from the United States.”

                From that moment on, I realized the prospect placed before us. No ambassador or diplomat would affect these teachers as we could. Thoughtful words and actions, expressing a genuine regard for our new colleagues, as individuals, not merely citizens of a world power, could foster understanding far better than any program or policy. What an opportunity for lasting good!

                Nan and I were hosted in the home of an engineer from the Port of Kandalaksha. Her sister, an administrator in the city school system, had been an active part of the convocation. Gala, the engineer, was the only woman I met who drove a car. She treated us to a brief tour of the port. Gala said Nan and I were the first Americans to visit the port.

Vera, the school inspector, Bernadean, Vera's sister,
Gala, engineer at this port, Natalya, an English
teacher. This was May 26 after 10 p.m. - notice the
coats and how light the sky was.

                The Russians I met were generous, gracious people, willing to share anything you admired. One of the teachers gave me a rock of eudialyte. She told me the folk legend, explaining that in an ancient battle with the Swedes, the blood of the people native to the Kola Peninsula was spilled and created this beautiful stone, a tangible symbol of the harshness and adversity experienced for centuries by the residents of the area.

Lopar blood stone, a gift from a Russian teacher.

                Many of the teachers I met had stories of hardship and sadness. One of the teachers told how her grandfather had been exiled to this cold region during Stalin’s regime because he had one cow too many. He had two cows. Forced labor from the Stalin’s five gulags erected much of the existing industry’s facilities.

                During one of the sessions, a normally vivacious teacher sobered suddenly  and said, “We have not taught our children to pray for our president. This is why our country is as it is.” I realized as a “government” teacher, at that time in Oklahoma, we didn’t even have a daily “moment of silence.” (It would be enacted by the state legislature in the next decade.)

                Each teacher expressed how much had been gained through the five-day convocation. One wrote in Russian and my interpreter translated it into English: I was greatly impressed with the convocation. It helped me make the choice definitely and accept Jesus Christ. She spoke no English and my Russian was limited to less than a half-dozen phrases, yet we retained a strong rapport throughout the week.

Standing: Bernadean, Rita, Nadezhda, my interpreter.
Seated: Natasha, Nelli, Nadya, & Tanya. Our small
group in Monchegorsk.

                Woodland School and Kandalaksha School #11 became sister schools upon my return. For several years, several elementary and middle school students wrote letters back and forth in a "pen friend" program spearheaded by Galina Timofeeva, the English teacher.

Galena Timofeeva who insisted that
Woodland have a friendship with her
school in Kandalaksha.

                Many years after I returned from Northern Russia, I received a letter mailed from here in the United States by an American who had visited Russia. Inside the envelope was a letter written in Russian, which I was unable to decipher.

I connected with a Uzbekistan engineer who had immigrated to Ponca City with her husband and two children. She translated the letter, which, to my surprise, was from a first grade teacher who I had taught in Kandalaksha. As I read, the story unfolded explaining how the teacher and her husband had chosen to follow Jesus. She sent a photo of the youth group that she and her husband led. She shared how dramatically their lives had been changed. Here was just another reason to be thankful that God led me to carved out three weeks from my life twenty years ago to go to Russia.