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After graduation I will be heading to South Korea to teach English. Wesley Mission School is committed to training children and youth who want to become missionaries by teaching them the international languages of English and Love. I have committed to teach for one year.


The Korean Flag.


This is Kimchee, a daily Korean occurance. It is spicy fermented Cabbage.


A Kindergarten graduation class, the school ranges from Kindergarten to High School.


Wesley Mission school, and Sapgyo Methodist Church.

Michael Airgood.

God is love.

The following blogs were posted during my two month trip to Russia. During my time in Russia I worked with the United Methodist Church in Otradney, (a drug and alcohol rehab center in)Samara, (our church camp in) Voronezh, Moscow, Kirov, and Syktyvkar.

I tried to record my day to day activities, primarily through the stories of events and the lives of people around me. The blog is in reverse order, so you might want to start from the last page and work your way back through.

If you have any questions about my time in Russia you can e-mail me at mairgood@tfc.edu

Love, Michael Airgood.

(Ludmilla Garbuzova teaching the youth from her church.)



(One of the Russian youth leaders we worked with, Pasha.)



(Ludmilla Garbuzova standing in front of the stained glass windows at the art&design college where Moscow First meets each week.)

The youth camp was a great experience. There were about 20 Americans and 20 Russians. We met up with the Americans before the camp and did a little planning. The Russian youth were great. Some were Christian and some were decidedly not-Christian. It was difficult to speak to both audiences.

We told the kids about Jesus. It sounds so simple, and it really is that simple. We took a week, we got to know the youth, and we told them the good news.

Because it really is that simple. That's what it's all about.

We spent a lot of time investing in the future leaders in Russia. We want to make sure that if we (the Americans) can't make it next year, that the Russian leaders know they could have the camp without us.

(This is a picture of me and American friends wearing large Russian hats. No one in Russia wears large fur Soviet hats.)

I love international travel because you lose any notion of time you ever had. My computer tells me that it is Saturday, and I simply have to believe it for lack of a better source!

Last Sunday I woke up after sleeping in for several hours. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, and went downstairs to the Korean church. I had spent the night at the United Methodist Seminary and it is home to at least 4 different churches. The First Service Sunday Morning (some time around noon or thereafter) was in Korean. The Koreans re-started the Methodist church in Russia over twenty years ago. There were many United Methodist Koreans living in the Soviet Union and they petitioned the government to allow them to meet. They were allowed access to a small concert hall with a very large statue of Lenin on the front platform. Some Sundays the Korean-Russians would cover the statue with a sheet ... after the fall of communism they moved the statue off of the stage for Sunday morning worship. They invited Russian-Russians and eventually planted the first Russian-Russian United Methodist churches. So we owe a lot to the Koreans, and attending their church service was a fun experience.



(The Korean churches' Sunday School.)

The Pastors Shishkin from Syktyvkar happened to be in Moscow that Sunday and were the featured preachers for the morning. The Korean churches visit Syktyvkar every summer (they never visit during the 9-10 month snowy season!) and on their last visit they gave money for a new air-conditioner. Haha. (The church used the money to install central heating as their building had used three different wood stoves.)

After Korean worship, I went with my Seminary student friend, Katya Li, to Ludmilla Garbuzova's church. Katya doesn't speak a word of English, and she continually encourages me in my Russian studies. She speaks with simple words and sentence structure and it feels great to understand and be understood. She tells me I have a "hot heart." I think the same about her - but more so.

The art and design college where Ludmilla's church normally meets isn't available during the summer so they do home churches. This particular Sunday it was just the youth at Ludmilla's flat. More than twenty of them (not all, she assures me) gathered in her comparatively large flat (Ludmilla had been an important government official before she became a Christian pastor - one perk of government service is incredibly spacious apartments! 5 rooms!) for worship and preparation for camp. She teaches on trendy clothes and the idea that God looks on the inside and that it is our heart that must be adorned - by faith. She held the room's attention - effortlessly going into long discussions with different youth about difficult topics. Several of her youth are orphans. Most of them aren't necessarily Christian - they are just lonely and crave a loving atmosphere. Ludmilla is altogether a realist ... after the sermon, when we were discussing camp, she said, "How many of us smoke?" More than half the room raised a hand. "Well, this week would be a good time to quit, but if you're going to smoke be polite to others and the environment. Smoke in the woods as a group and don't litter the butts." Could you imagine a pastor in the states saying that?!

On Monday we went to the youth camp. Our friend from Kirov, Zina, came to the camp and I met her at the train station and I brought her to the camp. We spoke entirely in Russian and when, most of the way to the camp, I called Kira and spoke in English half of the train turned to stare. They had heard my heavy accent, but American accents are rare and they probably assumed I was from Europe. They were more than a little suprised to learn that an American knew more than tourist phrases! Zina laughed harder than acceptable in Russian and I joined her.

Well, I am officially back in the states. Pastor Kira helped me find the airport yesterday morning. We left the camp at 6AM. It took 3 hours to get to the airport ... by taxi, metro, and train. I made all three of my connections and am safely in Boston with my sister.

I will try and post some pictures before too long, so feel free to check back.

This could potentially be my last post from Russia. I'm sitting in a McDonald's using the free Wi-Fi with my seminary friend Katya Li. Life in Moscow is good. Expensive, but good. I am going to the Methodist Youth Camp tomorrow. It promises to be an amazing time. I probably won't have internet in the forest.



Katya Li in front of a great reflective building.

I am flying home on the August 1st. Please remember to pray for me that day. I will spend some time with my sister, then time with my family, and then back to Toccoa August 20th (or there abouts!)

I will post some fun stories when I get back to the states (probably during my 8 hour layover at JFK.) Including: Korean church, Syktyvkar internet problems, Souvenier shopping adventures, more American interaction, etc. Can't wait to tell you more. Love, Michael.

On Saturday we had an all church work day. We are preparing the church for the long winter months by chopping a lot of wood. We ripped out an old fence to put up a new one. The church building is a two story log-cabin type building with doors only five feet tall to keep the heat in during the winter. It’s a really cute little church. The people are great and I love the pastors. The pastors are husband and wife and they have done an excellent job planting a church here. When they first came there were no Protestant churches in Syktyvkar.



Pastor Olga with the special-needs daughter of a church member

On Sunday we went to church. The average age of the church in Syktyvkar is around 30. The pastors are the 3rd and 4th oldest members of the church! We are staying at the home of one of the families. Ksusha speaks English and her mother and grandmother are at their summer cottage ... so it's essentially a college dorm set up. It's been great. Ksusha was the second youth to come to the church and after 8 years almost her entire class is active at the church. Amazing story. Ksusha made me share my testimony in Russia again, this time with an audience of more than 20 people. I was so nervous, but I made it through it.

On Monday we went to the village. We visited a Komi church. It was a wonderful experience. We prayed and sang hymns in English, Russian, and Komi (and Lauren sang a song in Spanish!) The pastors made me share my testimony in Russian for the third time this week. After church was over we walked to the river. Three Americans and a gaggle of old Komi women played and splashed in the river for over an hour. It was so funny. The pastor of the church is a niece of the first Komi Christian. He spent 30 years translating the Bible into Komi. She held up the Bible and said, "We are so proud to have the Bible in our own language." We had tea and the Komi women tried to teach us some of the Komi language. It was worth a try!



(This woman is 78 and she does all of the work around the church.)



(Pastor Olga made sure to get a picture of me sharing my testimony.)



(This is the pastor of the Komi church holding up the Komi Bible.)

Well, time is flying by here in Syktyvkar. It’s hard to believe that tomorrow is our last full day here. We will have a 26 hour train ride to Moscow leaving at 7AM on Thursday!

On Tuesday we went to the art gallery and then had another all church work day. The church is almost ready for the winter ... and I'm almost ready for bed.

With Love, Michael.

I had a really exciting day. We met some of the youth from the Methodist church in Syktyvkar and went for a walk. After lunch we went to the house of one of the youth. Dima is handicapped. He can sit up for 2 hours sometimes, but he is usually bedridden. He is in his mid-twenties and maybe 3 or 4 feet tall. He does a lot of the technological work for the church. He lives a life full of joy and enthusiasm for the cause of Christ. We watched different plays the youth had done for church that he had videotaped. Every video was underscored by his high pitched squeals of laughter and delight. It was truly one of the most inspiring experiences of my life. (Branden, Lauren, and me with Dima at church) We began sharing our stories of how we came to faith. Ksusha was invited to church by the new girl in school. Anya was invited by Ksusha. Vica was invited by Anya. Dima became a Christian after the people from church would come and spend time with him every week. When it was my turn to share how I came to faith Ksusha said, "Michael will share his story in Russian." It might have been a joke, I don't know. I do know that I did it. I gave my testimony in Russian. I needed help with a few words, and I'm sure it wasn't pretty - but I shared my life story in Russian. I almost cried when I finished - partially because I was so happy and felt such accomplishment and partially because I was so touched by the whole experience. So that's where I'm at right now. I'm living in a beautiful little city where night doesn't begin until 2 AM and I wake up to the sunshine in the morning. I'm getting by with my Russian language - it's difficult and ugly, but it passes with a little help from my friends. I'm surrounded by beautiful people of tremendous faith. I love and miss all of you, and am so grateful for the continued prayer. Love, Michael.

Brandon, Lauren, and I are headed to Syktyvkar in the morning. It's only 8 hours by bus. I don't know if we will have internet access there. I have been pleasantly suprised everywhere else in Russia, but that isn't a guarantee.

So, here are a few prayer requests in case I am without internet.

Pray that we will find purpose. We don't know what we are going to be doing there.

Pray for understanding. There are a few girls in the church who can speak some English, but it won't be like Kirov where Kira Volkova could effortlessly translate for us.

Pray for joy. We will be leaving a very happy home and dear friends to go into the Siberian wilderness. I'm sure we will be pleasantly suprised, but prayer won't hurt.

Love, Michael.

(Kira with our small friend Sonya.)

My time in Kirov has been a tremendous blessing to my life. There isn't one particular story that stands out, or one incident that is easily shared; instead it is the culmination of small events in daily life that point to God.

The work in Kirov isn't easy. Kira told me that, on paper at least, there has been a Methodist church in Kirov for 12 years. The church was non-existent when she showed up 2 years ago. The average attendance at the Sunday morning worship service is 4 or 5. If numbers were the primary indication of God at work, Kira and Kirov would be dismissed quickly. I wish I had the words and the time to explain the daily ministries of Kira Volkova. We have seen a glimpse of this ministry.

Yesterday we went to the children's ward of the hospital and told a Bible story. We made a craft. Kira and I were late meeting the rest of our group, but as we turned onto the long silent road leading to the hospital our quickened pace began to slow. She said, "I always pray when I walk this path. I pray out loud because on Saturday the road is empty. Will you join me, today?" We prayed for the children, their moms, and the nurses. We spend time meeting and sharing the faith with college students. Most of them are almost completely closed to the gospel message.

Kira has one of the hardest jobs imaginable, and I'm so incredibly proud of her obedience. I'm so proud that she was willing to leave everything behind to be exiled to a small city 14 hours North of Moscow to start a church. She went to the state appointed accountants office today to go over the books. Every day she is in ministry to those around her.

Her roomate, Zina, became a Christian in December. Zina is a ball of energy, so thirsty and hungry for God. Zina is a wonderful artist, and this week she made portaits of all of us. Zina is all the proof I need that there is hope for Kirov and for Pastor Kira Volkova's ministry here.




(Kira's roomate Zina, while painting a portrait of me.)