We were entering the dressing room in a clothing store in a certain town that has a larger Russian immigrant population. The attendant's name-tag said "Yelena," and my mom ratted me out in pointing to me and announcing, "My daughter lives in Russia!"
To which Yelena responded by asking if I spoke Russian, and I said, I did, a little bit.
Anyway, we chatted for a few minutes in Russian and by the end of the conversation she knew I was a missionary and had invited me to the Russian Baptist Church nearby. She even wrote down her phone number, labeling it "sell phone." I don't know if I will make it there for a visit or not...