policemen and "Vaghney" (thats Russian for important person)

As taxis are my main mode of transportation, I spend a lot of time in the backseat of cars- looking out the window and observing the ways of the road here. Let me clarify what a taxi is first. It is merely a car that you flag down and bargain with for a ride. Let me give you a little insight into driving in KZ. For those of you who have been overseas, you will have some basis for understanding this, but even then, there will be some confusion!

There are no lanes here. There is one street in town that has a center lane. It gets repainted once a year and it is only lined because the President often drives down that road. Guess why they dont paint the roads... Because they need the paint to paint the bottoms of the trees. Oh yes my friend, this is only the beginning. Since there are no lanes, people drive where they want to. Gone are the days of lines of cars- if you want to go somewhere, and you see even an inch of open pavement, you manuever your car into that space. So some days, you will find 7 lanes of cars on a road made for 3-4. If you cant find your way on the street, you just drive on the sidewalk. The most important part of all of this is your horn. You must blow it incessantly, jsut because. This is a basic form of communication here. I'm still not sure what they are communicating, but it seems important.

This takes me to my next thought- it is about the Vaghney. These are the important people. You know they are important two ways. First, they drive the nicest cars- Mercedes, BMW, Hummer- and second, because they somehow have the rule of the road. Dont get in their way- they get very angry. It is quite a thing to take notice of.

Now to the policemen. This is a man that feels quite impowered by the bright orange stick that he uses to direct and impede traffic. They dont fight crime here, they just pull you over. This is a funny sight. Instead of chasing you with their cars, they shake their orange stick at you and bang it on your car. Once that happens, you are to pull over. Sometimes you will see 5 or 6 cars all stopped at once. Now, in the states, a pull over mean a ticket, but here, it means a bribe. This process in itself is interesting. You, I've never had to do this- not yet at least-, get out of the car and shake the policemans hand. As you shake, you slip some money into his hand. If its enough, he pats you on the back, the universal symbol that all is well, and lets you go on your way. If its not as much as he would like, this greeting ritual continues until a proper amount is reached.

All of this to say- its humbling to live here. I'm not important- not even a little bit. I dont drive a nice car, no one knows me, and no one really cares to know. As I learn a little more about what it means to take up one's cross and follow him, I think about the lack of status that many of the Disciples had. If they did have status, it was the wrong kind. Dad's not really concerned with my ability to drive a Mercedes and control the road. He is way more interested in the speed and fervor with which I am seeking after Him. I dont think I have this down yet- sometimes I want to feel important. But Praise Him that I am still a work in progress- and that He hasnt given up on me!