A Well in the Wilderness

As Ramadan came to a close, I found myself wandering my neighborhood, prayerfully hoping to bump into a neighbor who might spontaneously invite me over to celebrate.

 

“Karen, you should come to my house!” a familiar voice called out. A neighbor had just stepped out of the vegetable shop behind me. “My nephew is visiting from England. Come meet him—you can speak English together!”

 

Internally, I groaned, assuming this was an attempt at a "setup." I think she sensed my hesitation. “His wife is here, too,” she added. “She’s from the city your use to live in and doesn't know much Russian.”

 

A wife? The relief was instant. This wasn't a setup; it was a genuine invitation. I quickly grabbed one of her heavy bags of vegetables and followed her home.

 

This couple has been a bright spot over the last two months. Though she has lived in Europe for twenty years, she is originally from the very first province I lived in when I moved overseas. They are here for four months, giving their teenage children a taste of Central Asian life.

 

She and I have gone on long walks around the neighborhood, often stopping every few feet because we are so absorbed in conversation. She even visited our English Corner to encourage the other women, proving that mastering a new language is possible. She is engaging and curious, already asking deep questions about my life, my values, and my faith.

 

From day one, this friendship has been a "well in the wilderness"—a temporary but life-giving reprieve. I’ve wondered if our connection feels so easy because of her time in Western culture, her own sense of isolation here (since she, too, struggles with Russian), or simply God’s grace when I needed it most. Regardless, our friendship feels natural and real—a beautiful break from the "forced" interactions I often encounter.