The time I got arrested in Russia

Friday the 13^th February 1998

The Time I got arrested in Russia

The day started out the way it typically did, with us getting ready for the day, get dressed, scripture study and breakfast. As the day got brighter it looked beautiful outside but once we stepped outside we were slapped in the face by the bitterly freezing temperatures. So cold it hurt. The temperature, -21 degrees Celsius without the wind chill factored in. My companion and I decided to find a nice warm stairwell to tract (tracting is the term given for knocking on doors, looking for prospective investigators)

We made our way to a set of buildings several miles from our apartment were we began our usual routine for tracting, ride the elevator up and tract our way back down. We rode to the top floor and began knocking doors on the way down. However, this time people started yelling and screaming as we tracted, so we decided to cut it short because the people we were trying to talk with couldn’t hear us over the other people in the stairwell yelling. So we took the elevator back down and when the doors opened, standing there were two cops carrying fully automatic weapons and a lady sharply accusing and pointing that these were the guys! I’m not going to lie I may have shat myself a little. We walked out of the elevator and the cops asked for our documents. I got mine out but my companion had only a copy of his. The one officer began checking our documents and the other called to a third officer who had ridden the elevator up and was making his way down trying to find us. After they checked our documents they searched our bags, then took us outside and put us in one of the two police cars and drove us to the local police station. I later came to find out that the reason people had freaked out so much at our tracting was that thief’s and thugs used to use the same tactic of knocking on the door of a person of interest, they would quickly grab the person and go. That person would never be heard of again, a tactic apparently learned from the KGB.

While we were en route, I recall the warmth of the vehicle, how nice it felt nice to be out of the freezing cold. I was also enjoying the different perspective; viewing Moscow from a car as opposed to mass transit or walking. The officers yelled at us about tracting nearly the whole trip, telling us that it was forbidden. The only reprieve from the verbal onslaught was when one of the cops started cussing at another car that had pulled out into the street and was blocking traffic. He made a bunch of hand motions and called the other driver a pre-durock which means moron, which I found amusing at the time.

When we finally arrived at the police station they took us into a room, began taking down all of our information, passports, address, where we were from, what organization we were with etc. After waiting some time, the chief or captain came in and instantly began furiously yelling at us about tracting, saying that people here already had a religion, (Russian Orthodox) that they need no other. After quite the ass chewing the Chief went out to do something with our documents.

We were left alone with a few officers in the room to like tease or talk to us. My companion telling me in English not to respond (he seemed quite frightened). One began asking questions about our religion, they all poked fun, but this one in particular, seemed a little interested. And against my companions’ better judgment, I spoke up. The one officer asked about the book of Mormon seemingly in jest and I told him about it, I told him how it had brought me much joy and purpose. That, it is the reason I was there in Russia, sharing that joy that I had found with anyone who would listen. That we could give it free of charge, to people who would read it. He asked if he could have it and the other cop said, “No” and asked “Why do you want something like that?” And he replied “I’ve read the Bible and the New testament.” The scolding officer rebuked “molodetz” in a teasing tone, which means good job or way to go.

The Russian psyche is quite interesting. Because when someone gives you a gift they feel obligated to give you something in return. Not having something to give me on his person at that moment, Igor looked around and checked himself for something he could give me in return. He found nothing save his side arm. He grabbed it, took out the clip and handed it to me to look at. Looking at Igor then the other officer I carefully took a closer look, admiring his gift, albeit a temporary one. I went to show it to my companion whose eyes were wide enough to fit a freight train through. He kind of shakingly looked at it and quickly returned it to me. Igor also showed me his bullet proof vest he was wearing. I returned his pistol, thanking him for the opportunity to hold it.

The Chief eventually came back in, gave us our documents back, yelled at us a little more, and then told us we could leave. Igor walked us out and explained which area was better to tract so we wouldn’t get hauled in again. And while we were walking out another cop asked Igor “what are you doing with that book?” he said “they gave it to me as a gift.” As we walked away they teased him by saying to us; “look, you’ve got one more Mormon in Russia.”

While that would be cool, it most likely didn’t happen. I never found out if anything came of it. My best hopes are that he read the book was in some way enlightened and that it changed his life for the better.