Eyes are upon you

It's been said that you always know when someone's watching -- and that if you think someone is watching, then you are probably right. My recent trip into Azerbaijan provided opportunity to consider this thought.

Azerbaijan is a country caught between two world views. In Azerbaijan there is a strong influence that comes from Moscow. As a country that was once part of the Soviet system, the Eastern European influence is immediately noticed. It is also an Islamic country sharing its southern border with Iran.

The country has decided that while propagation of the Christian faith is to be illegal, they will also resist influence from their Iranian neighbors. As they have been at war with their politically Christian neighbor to the west, Armenia, they find themselves at odds with their Muslim brothers in Iran because Iran has developed an alliance with Armenia.

It is a very confusing part of the world that I have yet to understand.

One thing that is clear: when you travel in Azerbaijan, eyes are upon you. The world may call the intelligence community in Azerbaijan something different but to the locals it's still known as the KGB. I have long labored under the false impression that in Russia and former Eastern block countries that things have changed since the early '90s. This is not true. The same systems still exist -- only under different names.

As we drove to the southern part of the country, I began to realize that these eyes were upon us. Our driver would disappear briefly at each stop. I began to learn that he understood more English that I had initially believed. I asked my traveling companion if he noticed anything strange. He quickly reassured me nothing strange was occurring. He added that the KGB always acted in such ways.

It may not have been news to him, but it was news to me that our movements were being watched and reported. I was told later that not only our movements were being monitored, but our phone calls and e-mails as well. While the feeling associated with this was disconcerting, I began to think of it a as a challenge. Over time, I realized there was no real threat and that our plans could continue as long as we were careful not to implicate those who live there.

Our plan was to visit a small Muslim village near the Iranian border. We weren't sure what would happen there. We just had an unction to go. As the KGB drove us to the town, there was immediately a lot of attention on us. I suppose visitors from the U.S. are not so frequent. I was asked the purpose of our visit. Not knowing what to say, I immediately declared in an authoritative tone that I was there to meet the mayor. I explained that I had seen his picture in a book and would like to meet a man of his stature in this place.

To my surprise everyone seemed satisfied with this answer. My travel partner and I were ushered to a nearby house for tea. Eventually, a man who claimed to be the leader of this village emerged and with the help of a Russian interpreter, we had ourselves a nice chat.

As the leader of this village, he conceived that no one in the village could speak the economic language of the day, English. He asked for my advice at this point. (I had explained to him that I was a writer.)

Together we arrived at a solution. Even the KGB driver who listened in was excited. I told him I could procure some English language materials but that because I was American these would be Christian materials. I didn't know how he might feel about Christian materials in the village school. I did not get the opportunity to share with him that this would not be allowed in American schools. He assured me that this was no problem.

The deal was struck. The KGB driver smiled as we gave him Bibles and children's Bible story books so the village could all read and study them as they became proficient in this economic language. I also smiled with the knowledge that even in this Muslim town at the Iranian border the promise we have that the word of God "never returns void" would be met.

I think next summer we will hire the KGB to drive us back to that town to see how those seeds we planted have grown. Perhaps the KGB would help us hold up Bible pictures as we conversed in Muslim schools with the children about the story behind the picture. We would, of course, do it in English.

I smile today knowing that God's eyes are upon me, no matter where I am, even if the KGB can't see me. I also smile knowing God's eyes are on that small Muslim village somewhere north of Iran. I'll bet he is helping them learn English.