Who we are, what we did, what we hope will come..

We are Theological Librarians, Deans, Rectors, Faculty and Information Professionals from Universities, Seminaries, Bible Colleges, Associations and Non-Profit Organizations.

We came to this conference held at Moscow Theological Seminary from regions in Russia including: Krasnodar, St. Petersburg, Prochladny, Moscow and Novosibirsk; and from regions in the Ukraine: Kremenchug, Lviv, Kiev, Zaporoshye, Kharkov, and Odessa. Two came from Kishinev, Moldova. Two came from the United States of America: Holland, Michigan and Durham, North Carolina. One came from Minsk, Belarus; one from Rome, Italy and one from Prague, Czech Republic. Our denominational affiliations included: Baptists, Pentecostals, Orthodox, Christian Reformed and Catholic. Our conference was called, “Library Support for Educational Programs in Theological Schools.”

We came together because of the combined efforts of Katharina Penner, Head Librarian at International Baptist Theological Seminary and Alexander Popov, Head Librarian at Moscow Theological Seminary. Their efforts were poured into the foundational work that Sergei Sannikov established fifteen years ago by founding and directing the Euro-Asian Accrediting Association.

What we did was to collaborate with and learn from each other. We discussed (among many things) the mission of the library, cataloging practices, information literacy, the library’s role in distance education, digitization, the online public access catalog, and how to manage change in a fast-paced technological environment.

The conference included both a professional and a spiritual component, giving participants an opportunity to be encouraged and to begin to envision ways of working with new technology and develop new skill sets. But its main purpose was to foster cooperation, to build relationships and to share knowledge and resources.

At the end of the conference, three decisions were made:
1) to formalize a consortium/association (yet to be named) of Euro-Asian librarians
2) to continue discussions on a newly formed listserv
3) to begin to discuss the possibility of a conference next year in Ukraine.

All in all, we began a work that we hope will continue: establishing a community of practice that uses the best of each of its contributors to strengthen the work of theological schools in the CIS.

The conference presentations can be found (in Russian) at:

http://www.moscowseminary.org/
index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=95&Itemid=134

Re-entry

In the movie, The Matrix, Andy and Larry Wachowski create a story about two variant worlds: the one Neo knows and the world he finds beyond the rabbit hole.

Like Neo, I took the red pill and traveled to Moscow, an unknown world with an expansive empire whose roots lie in a civilization of Mongols and other tribal peoples.

It is a dream from which I want to wake as I re-enter North Carolina. Despite the jet lag fog I drive to my bakery on Sunday morning to buy sourdough bread that the Russian’s I stayed with had never heard of, along with a freshly brewed cup of coffee, passing through the tree-lined streets that shade the idyllic world in which I live.

But it tarries with me, the depth of this rabbit hole, like the long deep subway tunnel winding in a circle around Moscow.

New York, New York

After several hours in the air on a Delta 767, the strategically placed monitors that lit up with movies or announcements also monitored the flight, giving elevation, speed, and temperature as well as mapping the path of the flight plan. I started paying attention when I saw the green screen list that we had traveled 3,771 kilometers and the line with an image of a tiny airplane showed that we were heading toward the tip of Greenland. After another 2.5 hours, I looked out the window and saw snow: we were crossing into Newfoundland and Labrador, heading toward Quebec and Montreal. The outside air temperature was -20c.

Soon we’d be heading toward New York.

This flight was quite different from the sullen flight to Moscow. People spoke to one another and the flight attendants were busy with all the in flight calls from people with questions.

The English-speaking man across the aisle seemed quite helpless, needing assistance to put on his headset, which so frustrated him, that he finally threw it down despite the help his neighbor was trying to give him. His gray suit still looked pressed and he glommed on to one flight attendant, asking specifically for her.

“Is Natalie there?”

“She’s helping someone else right now. What do you need?”

“Well, she was helping me fill this out,” he said pointing to his customs card. “I’ll wait until she’s free.”

And so it went. Many with worried questions about customs cards, an extra cup of coffee, can someone help me with the overhead bin compartment?

Or, the small well-groomed Russian man in front of me who rang and rang for the flight attendant because the man in front of him was still on his cell phone during take off.

“Why are you letting this man talk on his phone? He’s not supposed to be doing this. Who does he think he is? Must be a very important man. Doesn’t he have to follow the rules? A very, very important man.” I expected his accent and mocking tone to provoke a fight, but the large man with the crew cut sitting in front of him didn’t understand English.

The bi-lingual, Russian flight attendants were swift in their actions against this incorrect behavior with several attendants descending on him at once to make sure he understood and than tending to his accuser with finesse.

“Yes, yes, thank you so much for telling us.” Natalie said.

As the plane began to descend toward New York, all the shaded window covers opened to see America. I was among them, gawking for the lady whose torch would for the first time, light for me the memory of breathing the air of freedom.

Coming home

The woman next to me on the plane ride home was a babushka from Seattle who only spoke Russian. We got along fine, saying very little except, 'exuse me,' or 'spaceeba.' She kept accidentally ringing for the flight attendant while trying to adjust the light so she could read her Russian paper. The attendants always looked to me, as though I was her caretaker, and kept asking if everything was okay. I nodded, not knowing that babushka kept tripping the switch until finally, one attendant came by, reached over to the arm rest and turned off the call light. Babushka was none the wiser.

After we had been in the air for a few hours, a movie started without announcement and without any visual listing of the title. I guess the Disney logo should have been enough, but despite all my time in Moscow, I was still learning to be clever enough to adjust to sudden events, scrambling to find and plug in my headset without accidentally calling the flight attendant for help. When I finally settled into my seat, I realized I was watching the movie in Russian and when the attendant came by, I had to ask, "what channel is the English?" She smiled and said, "1 or 2, I'm not sure."

I flipped the channels and found it, relieved and hopeful that I'd soon know what films were playing so that I could tell folks back home which three movies I watched on the plane; National Treasure and Enchanted were all I learned. I can only tell you about the other movie because they didn't list the title in the back of the Sky magazine. No matter. The movies were a gift, transporting me far from the travels I had made to an easy, listless space where I could rest from the confusion of entering the SVO airport with no idea where to go, no signs and no one to ask who spoke English. I just lumbered through and guessed, being turned away by two agents who told me I was in the wrong place and pointed to the other side of the terminal.

By the time I got to my gate, I had passed through four security check points and while I waited to board the plane, they changed the gate without announcing it. This is how I found other English speakers who pressed into the mess of people who, even while handing our boarding pass to the attendant, were asked security questions about what we were bringing on board. What a relief to sit next to babushka who didn't seem to mind anything, continuing to trip the switch to call the flight attendant who, near the end of flight, caught my eye and handed me an extra ice cream treat.

One never knows

In America, I believe I can safely say that we live with a sense of security regarding our daily activities: we get up, go to work, mail our bills, drive to the store and buy our food, visit with friends and family and take whatever unexpected events occur without too much stress. Or, during very stressful times, we have ways of managing that undergird the unspoken freedoms we have.

When we visited Danilov Monastery yesterday, Katharina bought some honey to take back to Prague. I wasn't certain I'd have room to take this home in my suitcase, so I waited, deciding after we ate our piroshky that I'd like to buy some too. But without notice, the store closed. This is not an isolated event, but has happened several times here in different ways. For example, the first metro ticket I bought with Alexander's help was in denominations of 8. The next day, they didn't sell that ticket anymore - you could only buy denonminations of 2, 5, 10, etc. I was confused. But this small change, like random store closings is normal here, creating an insecurity and fear that manages the masses.

I have been one of those masses during my time here and will continue to be so until I leave. The plans I make on this side of the Atlantic are ever changing, laden with a world view unlike what I know. Perhaps it is in this place of insecurity that we can begin to understand that collaborating with people from worlds unlike our own is hard, hard work and takes a tenaciousness that seems to be inherent in these good, Slavic peoples. Perhaps bringing this message back is part of my task.

Forgive me

With the conference now over and most everyone having left for their homes, Katharina and I took a day off for an excursion to the Danilov Monastery, the official residence of the Russian Orthodox Patriarch. It was founded in 1282 by Prince Daniil and survived until the Revolution when in the 1930's it became a prison. The church reclaimed it in 1983 and it differs from other Russian monasteries because it is not isolated, but an open, active monastery with working priests and many worshipers.

Katharina and I took the three trains to the suburbs and entered at the Gate Church of St. Simeon the Stylite. Uniformed guards stood at the entry as we walked by. It was 11:30am and we wandered the grounds, looking at the statue of Prince Vladimir and the gardens. The Trinity Cathedral was closed for cleaning. We entered the small Millenium Chapel where people gathered to write their petitions for prayer in time for the noon Mass. We watched, heads uncovered, the many people crossing themselves and kissing the icons. We wandered upstairs to the crypt area where Daniil was buried and again, watched the veneration of icons, careful to be quiet and respectful. Suddenly, there was an announcement that the doors were closing and that everyone needed to leave. We followed and went back to the small chapel area where the iconostasis was set and saw the priest enter and begin the prayers. So we stayed and bowed at the appropriate time.

The floors were hard, we stood and stood until we tired. The service was at its beginning and yet, we decided to leave. We walked out quietly toward the small shops where we had smelled Peroshki baking on the way in. We purchased a few, and went to rest our feet at the benches next to the Holy water where many came to drink.

As we sat and ate, a man with a gray beard and pale blue eyes approached me and began to speak in Russian. I didn't know what he was saying. His tone was pointed and I sat quietly, not saying a word. Katharina listened and nodded and also sat quiet.

We were being admonished: We had not come to worship. We were tourists who insulted their work. We were sitting next to the Holy water and my legs were crossed. This was not appropriate behavior for a woman. The man with the cell phone in the suit next to us was beyond hope. But we, we were women and so there might be hope.

"Do you understand?" He asked in Russian. We said nothing.

"If you have come as tourists, you should have at least read the rules of behavior or you should not have come at all."

Seeing that we would not engage in what some Russians would see as potentially argumentative behavior, he finished with, "forgive me," and left.

Final conference sessions

On the final day of the conference,"Library Support for Educational Programs in Theological Schools," Lyuba Zakharova presented a session called, "Managing Change in a Changing Technological Profession," followed by Alexander Popov, whose session on "Digitization" was the final presentation of the conference.

After a break, we all gathered for the Open Forum session to discuss possible next steps for providing support and beginning collaboration at a distance. All agreed that a listserv would be a great way to stay connected and to begin discussions to form a vision for a possible consortium. In the Russian tradition, spirited conversations took place and we ended as we had begun each day, with prayer.