A Russian bus ride

We rode out to Andrei's parents' neighborhood today to look at a piece of furniture...come to find out, they were closed for inventory, oh well! :(

So Andrei and Vladimir and I got on the bus to go back to our place. It was the same route as coming but this bus was in worse shape; seat covers all ripped up and metal flooring exposed and rusting and you could feel every bump as we rode along.

We boarded the bus in the front and then shuffled to the back where there were seats. It was a true balancing act, like walking down a plane aisle during turbulence.

On our way to the back of the bus, we passed a man who was clearly not doing well. His face was pallid and a woman was patting him with a handkerchief. We asked if they needed help and it sounded like he was having heart trouble. On we bumped. One person offered some pills, but he'd already taken something.

We sat there praying silently and I wondered why the day was going so strangely and what the missing piece would turn out to be, and at that moment I looked over and saw a sticker on the window that had dried and cracked into hundreds of pieces in the sun.

We turned the corner and pulled over and a man (the driver, it turned out) came over to the ailing gentleman, and spoke in an accent, and gave him some water to drink. Then we rode on.

Why do people have to live in these conditions? Why does a sick person have to ride a bumpy bus?

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

The next thing that happened after a few stops was that a worker of some sort got on, wielding a huge panel of wire mesh glass that he held with gloves. He rode, standing up on the bumpy bus, with this piece of glass.

Eventually we got off at our stop, after making sure the sick man would be attended to.

And went home and had ice cream. That's it, no more surprises...turned out to be a regular day after all.