Winter has finally arrived in Moscow. Last year at this time, we did not have the luxury of a vehicle so we stood at bus stops and waited in the subzero. We are more pampered now and accustomed to hopping in our warm shuttle to get where we want to go.

Earlier this week, my husband worked late and so he parked the van near the metro station. On his way home, the van began to overheat because the coolant had frozen inside the engine. It's hard for me to imagine anything overheating when it's 10 below, but whatever. Anyway, he ran a heater in the garage overnight, put a light underneath the engine, and covered the hood with a blanket to try to help it thaw. This worked successfully as I was able to start it easily and drive the next morning. However, when I whipped the blanket off the hood, remnants of the blue luxe remained in little clumps of frozen, fuzzy pockmarks which made the front of our van appear to have some type of venereal disease.

Our van is already easy to spot in public because we have a special colored license plate and we only wash it once in a while. This is because the local car washes charge 20 bucks and it's prohibited to wash your own car. Also, we were given a beater because our contract didn't allow us to bring an automobile with us.

That being said, the next morning I went to Bible Study. I just started attending with this group of wonderful ladies and I thoroughly enjoy their company and the study. But most of their husbands work for corporations who hire them drivers and cars for their goings-about. So as I was leaving I started up the growling, freezing engine of my mid-nineties vanmobile and made a three point turn. As I drove down the narrow driveway, I passed five, sleek, black, luxury cars, all with drivers waiting for the ladies to exit. But it was okay. I felt proud that I have the privilege of driving myself around this crazy city. I also felt proud that my friends are my friends because of me, obviously not my housing or my vehicle. I feel the same way about them.