Day 10 – Tuesday, 22 December
I’m settling into a morning routine: make coffee, set up laptop in the corner of the kitchen by the radiator and write before Mark wakes up. But occasionally, I have a day when I sit in front of my keyboard and my fingers simply won’t produce the words. Today was one of those days.
I got up about 8:15, as our translator zipped out the door to chase more documents. By 9:30, when the only words on the screen were “Day 9 – Monday, 21 December,” I gave up and switched to a book.
Today’s goal was to finish the local court resolution, which would allow us to get on the schedule for our court hearing…hopefully early next week! We thought yesterday was the last day the court was scheduling new hearings, but our translators have been working closely with the local authorities; because of the importance of completing our hearing before the holidays, they have made special arrangements to accept our documents whenever they are complete, and they keep telling us not to worry.
Our translator appeared back at the apartment around lunchtime, saying “We wait.” Around 2:30, her phone rang, she announced, “We go.” And we went. And we waited. Seriously, people. Bring books. I am soooo thankful for my Sony PR505; I am comforted to know that I will not run out of reading material while we wait and wait and wait. At under a pound, carrying more books than I could read in a year, it’s making all the waiting bearable. In the back of the cold car for almost two hours, I finished The Time Traveler’s Wife.
About the time it got too dark to read, we saw a familiar face leave the Notary. He approached the car and told us we could go in. We quickly reviewed the document, signed five copies, and piled back into the car. Although our documentation for court is still not finished, our translator tells us that we are still on track for court early next week. No worries.
Nearly 5:00, we headed to the orphanage for a short visit with Lena. With tears in her eyes but a smile on her face, Lena came running down and gave us huge hugs. We just hugged her and held her until she settled in. We learned that she is very worried about court and she’s still having a hard time believing that we’re finally here and that all of this is real. I cuddled with her on the couch of the Bird Room while Mark extracted his laptop, called home, and woke Masha up for a video call via Skype.
Because we arrived so late, our time today was short. We left the Center about 5:45 and realized we were all starving! We had heard about a restaurant in town called “Potato House,” which was, oddly, a Tex-Mex burrito place. A large wooden Indian greeted us as we entered the packed restaurant, and all the employees wore cowboy hats. We each ordered a beer and a “spicy” chicken burrito (we were advised to steer clear of the steak…) and found a table.
A few minutes later, steaming hot chicken burritos were delivered to our table. As we dug in, we realized that while they were quite tasty, they sure didn’t taste like any burrito we’d ever eaten. Chicken. Mushrooms. Garlic sauce. In a tortilla.
Back at home, I took notes as our translator taught me to make another of the wonderful salads that is common here (Lisa, it’s the Amstor egg salad!!!)…we are eating like royalty this time! As she finished, though, my head assaulted me with a wicked sharp pain and I started feeling kind of nasty. I tasted a bite of the salad and then stumbled off to bed around 8:00.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Document Day
Day 9 – Monday, 21 December
Google the word “Monday” and I’m sure you’ll find the following definition: “Retribution for a leisurely Sunday.” Our translator and I were both up around 7:30. She scurried out the door a little after 8, and told us that we would be needed maybe around 10 or 11.
Perhaps at this point, a cross-functional process diagram might be helpful, but I’m just not inclined to fire up Visio. Feels too much like work. Suffice to say there are many reviews and authorizations and circular escalations to create each document in the process, and there are several documents created in sequence for each adoption. Our role is to wait quietly until our signatures are required, then scramble to the Notary’s office to show our passports and sign many copies of a document, and then wait quietly some more until the next document is ready.
We were prepared for a very busy Monday, but we’ve found that our translator is the one doing allllll the work. She is running around from office to office getting the documents drafted and approved and approved again and edited and re-approved, and then sending a car for us, and then sending us back home again. We simply maintain a state of readiness; prepared to leave the apartment at a moment’s notice.
So, we got ourselves all coffeed up and ready to face the world, and then…nothing. The phone finally rang around 11, and our translator said “Maybe it will be a little while longer. I will call you when we are ready for you.” Hmm. That could mean 15 minutes or 4 hours. I hopped online, downloaded emails, replied to emails, did a little work, read a half a book, and generally waited. Mark’s been able to dig into of lot of documentation for his work, but I’m having trouble getting too deeply engrossed in anything, because we have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But we can’t sit and stare at the wall, either.
Finally, about 1:45, the phone rang. “In ten minutes, you will go downstairs. There will be a black car with a horse on the front. You will get in. It will bring you to me.” Felt like The Godfather, Ukrainian Edition.
Thirty minutes later, we were walking back into our apartment, our work for the day finished. Turns out all we needed to do was walk in, sign a couple pages, and go back home. Signed documents in hand, our translator bolted out the door and off in another direction for more scurrying.
Around 4:00, the phone rang again. Our translator was in the car downstairs, ready to take us to the orphanage to see Lena. Scramble around, run downstairs, pile in the car.
The orphanage was bustling…the children were preparing for an anniversary celebration to be held tomorrow, with a big program of singing and dancing by the children. Unfortunately, with the flu quarantine, we would not be allowed to attend the performance. Lena appeared in her costume, panting and tired from practice. She hugged us, then ran upstairs to change clothes. She reappeared, accompanied by two friends. And an intricately folded paper bird. Her friend presented us with this beautiful swan; we had seen some similar pieces in the visiting room the day before, so the girls had made one for us that morning!
We were able to hang out for about an hour while our translator worked in the office on some more documentation. Lena asked us to quiz her on reading numbers; I wrote a 4-digit number on my notebook, and she read it off in English. We chatted a bit, looking up translations in the Russian/English dictionary as needed, and asking our translator to clarify as she popped in and out of the room. We didn’t need too much help, though…Lena has been practicing her English, and she’s really getting good.
We went through all the family photos, and learned that Lena thinks the trees behind our house remind her of the forest in the Twilight movie. She practiced her new signature, Elena Grace Niles, adding curlicues and flourishes, and being certain that it reflects her personality. Lena asked many questions about Masha and school. It’s clear that she’s nervous about the big change ahead of her, but that she’s getting excited, too.
Around 5:30, we left the orphanage and headed to a local pizza place for a bite. As we stood in line, our translator’s phone rang. It was her boss, who was also in town working with the other family. They chatted for a minute and devised a plan to have a little party with both families at our apartment after dinner. We quickly ate our pizza and then stopped at the store to stock up on party supplies—sausage, cheese, bread, olives, and of course, chocolates and vodka.
As they arrived, we scrambled to try to find chairs enough for everyone, and then gathered around the table in our tiny kitchen. We toasted and ate and talked and laughed all evening, and had a great time getting to know the other family, and getting to know our translators better. We learned a lot:
• One person pours drinks for everyone at the table
• It’s bad luck for women to pour drinks in a mixed group
• When a bottle is emptied, the person whose glass is filled last makes a wish, blows it into the empty bottle and then seals the bottle up
• It’s bad luck to leave an empty bottle on the table
• Ukrainians love their vodka!
Our translator’s boss regaled us with stories of Ukrainian history and tradition, while sitting on an upturned bucket (since we didn’t have enough chairs). We thought the other family might turn into pumpkins, as they had taken the train down the night before and hadn’t slept for a while, but they are troopers, and the vodka flowed until after 11:00.
Google the word “Monday” and I’m sure you’ll find the following definition: “Retribution for a leisurely Sunday.” Our translator and I were both up around 7:30. She scurried out the door a little after 8, and told us that we would be needed maybe around 10 or 11.
Perhaps at this point, a cross-functional process diagram might be helpful, but I’m just not inclined to fire up Visio. Feels too much like work. Suffice to say there are many reviews and authorizations and circular escalations to create each document in the process, and there are several documents created in sequence for each adoption. Our role is to wait quietly until our signatures are required, then scramble to the Notary’s office to show our passports and sign many copies of a document, and then wait quietly some more until the next document is ready.
We were prepared for a very busy Monday, but we’ve found that our translator is the one doing allllll the work. She is running around from office to office getting the documents drafted and approved and approved again and edited and re-approved, and then sending a car for us, and then sending us back home again. We simply maintain a state of readiness; prepared to leave the apartment at a moment’s notice.
So, we got ourselves all coffeed up and ready to face the world, and then…nothing. The phone finally rang around 11, and our translator said “Maybe it will be a little while longer. I will call you when we are ready for you.” Hmm. That could mean 15 minutes or 4 hours. I hopped online, downloaded emails, replied to emails, did a little work, read a half a book, and generally waited. Mark’s been able to dig into of lot of documentation for his work, but I’m having trouble getting too deeply engrossed in anything, because we have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But we can’t sit and stare at the wall, either.
Finally, about 1:45, the phone rang. “In ten minutes, you will go downstairs. There will be a black car with a horse on the front. You will get in. It will bring you to me.” Felt like The Godfather, Ukrainian Edition.
Thirty minutes later, we were walking back into our apartment, our work for the day finished. Turns out all we needed to do was walk in, sign a couple pages, and go back home. Signed documents in hand, our translator bolted out the door and off in another direction for more scurrying.
Around 4:00, the phone rang again. Our translator was in the car downstairs, ready to take us to the orphanage to see Lena. Scramble around, run downstairs, pile in the car.
The orphanage was bustling…the children were preparing for an anniversary celebration to be held tomorrow, with a big program of singing and dancing by the children. Unfortunately, with the flu quarantine, we would not be allowed to attend the performance. Lena appeared in her costume, panting and tired from practice. She hugged us, then ran upstairs to change clothes. She reappeared, accompanied by two friends. And an intricately folded paper bird. Her friend presented us with this beautiful swan; we had seen some similar pieces in the visiting room the day before, so the girls had made one for us that morning!
We were able to hang out for about an hour while our translator worked in the office on some more documentation. Lena asked us to quiz her on reading numbers; I wrote a 4-digit number on my notebook, and she read it off in English. We chatted a bit, looking up translations in the Russian/English dictionary as needed, and asking our translator to clarify as she popped in and out of the room. We didn’t need too much help, though…Lena has been practicing her English, and she’s really getting good.
We went through all the family photos, and learned that Lena thinks the trees behind our house remind her of the forest in the Twilight movie. She practiced her new signature, Elena Grace Niles, adding curlicues and flourishes, and being certain that it reflects her personality. Lena asked many questions about Masha and school. It’s clear that she’s nervous about the big change ahead of her, but that she’s getting excited, too.
Around 5:30, we left the orphanage and headed to a local pizza place for a bite. As we stood in line, our translator’s phone rang. It was her boss, who was also in town working with the other family. They chatted for a minute and devised a plan to have a little party with both families at our apartment after dinner. We quickly ate our pizza and then stopped at the store to stock up on party supplies—sausage, cheese, bread, olives, and of course, chocolates and vodka.
As they arrived, we scrambled to try to find chairs enough for everyone, and then gathered around the table in our tiny kitchen. We toasted and ate and talked and laughed all evening, and had a great time getting to know the other family, and getting to know our translators better. We learned a lot:
• One person pours drinks for everyone at the table
• It’s bad luck for women to pour drinks in a mixed group
• When a bottle is emptied, the person whose glass is filled last makes a wish, blows it into the empty bottle and then seals the bottle up
• It’s bad luck to leave an empty bottle on the table
• Ukrainians love their vodka!
Our translator’s boss regaled us with stories of Ukrainian history and tradition, while sitting on an upturned bucket (since we didn’t have enough chairs). We thought the other family might turn into pumpkins, as they had taken the train down the night before and hadn’t slept for a while, but they are troopers, and the vodka flowed until after 11:00.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Happy Borschday
Day 8 – Sunday, 20 December
And on the seventh day, we rested.
Well, ok, really the 8th, but you get the idea. After a week of running around and traveling and stressing out and running around some more, we finally had our first totally “down” day. The weather warmed to just above freezing and a light fog filled the streets around our apartment, giving us a cozy, cocooned feeling perfect for a lazy Sunday.
We slept in. I made a pot of really strong coffee. I read while Mark played with the internet sharing on our computers and did a bit of work. We had planned to get outside for a walk around town, but as the sky began to darken, we realized it really would be great just to keep puttering around the apartment.
We had one item on our to-do list for today (if you remember, two or fewer items is likely to be a successful day in Ukraine…): Make Ukrainian Borsch. Borsch is a tomato-based soup with pork and root vegetables, including beets; every Ukrainian woman has her own special Borsch recipe. Last time we were here, we learned one. Today, we learned another. Different, but equally delicious.
Mark parked himself with his laptop in the corner of the kitchen while our translator directed me around the tiny kitchen, grating and chopping and peeling. All the while, we chatted and sipped vodka and had a great time. We are so blessed to have a translator who is quickly becoming a friend.
After dinner, we sat captivated for a 3-hour showing of Ukraine’s equivalent to American Idol. Lena had shared her favorites with our translator yesterday, and we chose our own favorites as we watched. The show is a little different, as they focus as heavily on the stage performance as the singing; the performers are accompanied on the stage by dancers and wind machines and pyrotechnics. They are down to seven competitors, and are holding the finale next week.
We know that tomorrow will be a very busy day for our translator, as she has to do about three days’ worth of paperwork in one day to meet the deadline to get onto the court schedule before the holiday break. Our role in the day will be mostly to wait, appear at the right time to sign everything, and then wait again until she gets the court application submitted. With an important and busy day looming, bedtime sneaked up on us quickly. After a short call home to Masha, we stumbled off for a good night’s rest.
And on the seventh day, we rested.
Well, ok, really the 8th, but you get the idea. After a week of running around and traveling and stressing out and running around some more, we finally had our first totally “down” day. The weather warmed to just above freezing and a light fog filled the streets around our apartment, giving us a cozy, cocooned feeling perfect for a lazy Sunday.
We slept in. I made a pot of really strong coffee. I read while Mark played with the internet sharing on our computers and did a bit of work. We had planned to get outside for a walk around town, but as the sky began to darken, we realized it really would be great just to keep puttering around the apartment.
We had one item on our to-do list for today (if you remember, two or fewer items is likely to be a successful day in Ukraine…): Make Ukrainian Borsch. Borsch is a tomato-based soup with pork and root vegetables, including beets; every Ukrainian woman has her own special Borsch recipe. Last time we were here, we learned one. Today, we learned another. Different, but equally delicious.
Mark parked himself with his laptop in the corner of the kitchen while our translator directed me around the tiny kitchen, grating and chopping and peeling. All the while, we chatted and sipped vodka and had a great time. We are so blessed to have a translator who is quickly becoming a friend.
After dinner, we sat captivated for a 3-hour showing of Ukraine’s equivalent to American Idol. Lena had shared her favorites with our translator yesterday, and we chose our own favorites as we watched. The show is a little different, as they focus as heavily on the stage performance as the singing; the performers are accompanied on the stage by dancers and wind machines and pyrotechnics. They are down to seven competitors, and are holding the finale next week.
We know that tomorrow will be a very busy day for our translator, as she has to do about three days’ worth of paperwork in one day to meet the deadline to get onto the court schedule before the holiday break. Our role in the day will be mostly to wait, appear at the right time to sign everything, and then wait again until she gets the court application submitted. With an important and busy day looming, bedtime sneaked up on us quickly. After a short call home to Masha, we stumbled off for a good night’s rest.
Wow
Day 7 - Saturday, 19 December
We must feel like this is our second home, because for the first time in a week, we both slept well and long. I woke around 8, made a cup of tea, and found a nice warm spot at the kitchen table next to the radiator to write. Mark and our translator both rose a short while later.
“We have small problem.” Um…uh oh. That’s never a good thing to hear. Our translator proceeded to explain to us that the holidays in Ukraine begin on 31 December and then run the full first week of January. While the Ukrainian courts continue to hear cases up to 30 December, at least in our region, they stop taking new cases on 21 December. Yes, that’s Monday. Yes, we have many documents to prepare before our court application. Yes, we still must get the application submitted on Monday. No, this isn’t really possible, but yes, we will get it done.
Ultimately, everyone connected with our adoption process here in Ukraine is just as motivated to get us done and home as we are to get there. Even though today is Saturday, the assistant director very generously agreed to come in and prepare the necessary documents to hit the ground running early on Monday. The side benefit of that…we finally will be allowed to visit Lena at the orphanage!
We dressed and our translator suggested that we bring with us the gifts for specific kids and the Assistant Director), but that we leave for later the general orphanage gifts and the one for the Director. We gathered these together and then chatted as we waited for our driver to mush through the snowy streets to our doorstep.
Our hearts quickened as we travelled the well-known route from the apartment to the orphanage. Everything looked the same, yet very different in the cold snowy morning. We glimpsed familiar buildings and intersections through the fogged car windows, and cheered as we made the final turn down the lane to the Center. The legendary blue van rested in the snowy parking lot, and we carefully made our way up the icy walk to the bright yellow entrance.
The Assistant Director greeted us warmly, and quickly ushered us into the green room to wait while she found Lena. Our translator held the camera, and we jittered in anticipation…the last 3 minute wait was the hardest! But at last, the AD popped her head into the room and then everything else melted away as Lena ran into our arms.
Tears streamed down our translator’s face as she clicked away, capturing the first moments together again so we can cherish them forever…Lena kept repeating, “I can’t believe you’re finally here and this is real.” We just hugged her as tightly as we could.
The time finally came to let go, and we shifted to a sofa in the corner of the room. Lena sat between us, and we went through the photo albums we had brought. She ran up to her room and brought down a collection of family collages that she had made from photos we had sent to her; she and her friends had worked very hard to compose a card in English for us, filled with love and well-wishes.
She also brought down a large photo album containing many memories of her life, including a few photos of her bio parents, several photos from when she was very small (3 or 4) and many more of her friends and of adults from the church that the kids attend. As she explained each picture, we discovered that she had been studying English; her knowledge of English now completely surpasses my knowledge of Russian!
We missed her 14th birthday by just a few days, so we presented her with a set of bangle bracelets and a silver cross necklace. We then spent at least a half hour passing the necklace back and forth, each of us reducing the knot in the chain a little more before passing it on in frustration…Team Niles finally untangled it, and I was able to fasten it around Lena’s neck.
As we finally settled in, we pulled out a card game we played a lot when Lena visited us a couple of summers ago: Set. A matching game with shapes, colors, and numbers lends itself well to language-less play, and Lena had gotten pretty good at it while she was in the US. But when she started nailing sets instantly, we both just looked at her, stunned. “Every day,” she replied to our questioning faces. The cutest part was when she would see a set, but wait for one of us to find it…just like a parent waiting for a small child to see it and then feel triumphant! Needless to say, her practiced eye kicked our sleep-deprived tails: 14-5-4.
We chatted as much as we could without a translator; we discovered that school was closed, not for the holidays yet, but because of fear of a Swine Flu outbreak. We showed Lena photos of her new room and shared paint chips so she could pick a new color.
Through all of this, our translator was working in the Assistant Director’s office, preparing documents for Monday. They finished, and she came in to sit with us for a while. With a translator present, Lena’s inner chatterbox emerged. She talked about the movies and music she liked (she loves Twilight, but hasn’t read the books yet! Woohoo!), and asked for some DVDs and books to take back to America with us. She asked about school and what grade she would be in, and when she would start school, and how it worked for Masha, and how her teachers would teach her English. She asked about Masha’s career ambitions, and shared that she still wants to be a journalist. She brought down her notebook and her English textbook, and talked about what she was learning in school and what she thought worked and what didn’t. She talked a lot!!
We had noticed the guards wearing masks, and had seen very few kids in the hallways. From our translator, we learned that the orphanage was actually under a quarantine to prevent spread of the Flu, and that it was likely that our contact with the other kids on the Center would be pretty limited. We were not able to personally give the gifts we brought for the two other kids (or take pictures or pass on hugs and kisses from their American families). Huge, huge apologies to J. and R., but know that your gifts WILL of course be passed on to the kids.
We also learned that there will be a big celebration to honor the anniversary of the Center. Similar to the 1 June Children’s Day celebration that we saw last time we were here, there will be a big program, and many of the Center’s supporters will attend. We know that we’ll at least have an opportunity to see all of the kids then, and take many photos!
After a couple hours there, the AD appeared, all bundled up and ready to go. Our translator popped up and announced that our visit today was over, and that sadly, we would not be able to visit tomorrow because it was Sunday, but we would be back on Monday after all our paperwork was complete. We collected up all our things, hugged Lena about 30 more times, and waved “Paka!” as she disappeared up the stairs.
We drove the AD back home, then turned our thoughts to our bellies…we were starving! The cupbords in our apartment were totally bare, so we decided to go to Amstor, a Wal-Mart-like megamart with a cafeteria as well as a grocery. We filled up at the cafeteria, and then proceeded to overflow our cart with the groceries we would need for the next week as well as a huge bag of chocolates and various Vodkas to take home. Thank goodness Amstor takes credit cards!
Note to those of you following us…I’ve mentioned before, and will again. You can buy just about anything you need here, with one glaring exception: You cannot purchase plain potato chips. You can buy sour cream and onion chips. Or cheese-flavored chips. Or Crab-flavored chips (yes, yes, I said crab). But no plain ones. For an addict like me, that’s a tough one, but I’ll survive. You will too. :-)
Once our American consumerism was sated, we returned to our apartment as darkness fell over the town. Even 600 miles south, the sun sets around 4:00 here in mid-December. We shuttled our heavy grocery sacks upstairs and quickly unpacked everything. After a large late lunch, none of us was very hungry, so we snacked, washed two loads of laundry, read a little bit, called home and fell into bed completely exhausted.
We must feel like this is our second home, because for the first time in a week, we both slept well and long. I woke around 8, made a cup of tea, and found a nice warm spot at the kitchen table next to the radiator to write. Mark and our translator both rose a short while later.
“We have small problem.” Um…uh oh. That’s never a good thing to hear. Our translator proceeded to explain to us that the holidays in Ukraine begin on 31 December and then run the full first week of January. While the Ukrainian courts continue to hear cases up to 30 December, at least in our region, they stop taking new cases on 21 December. Yes, that’s Monday. Yes, we have many documents to prepare before our court application. Yes, we still must get the application submitted on Monday. No, this isn’t really possible, but yes, we will get it done.
Ultimately, everyone connected with our adoption process here in Ukraine is just as motivated to get us done and home as we are to get there. Even though today is Saturday, the assistant director very generously agreed to come in and prepare the necessary documents to hit the ground running early on Monday. The side benefit of that…we finally will be allowed to visit Lena at the orphanage!
We dressed and our translator suggested that we bring with us the gifts for specific kids and the Assistant Director), but that we leave for later the general orphanage gifts and the one for the Director. We gathered these together and then chatted as we waited for our driver to mush through the snowy streets to our doorstep.
Our hearts quickened as we travelled the well-known route from the apartment to the orphanage. Everything looked the same, yet very different in the cold snowy morning. We glimpsed familiar buildings and intersections through the fogged car windows, and cheered as we made the final turn down the lane to the Center. The legendary blue van rested in the snowy parking lot, and we carefully made our way up the icy walk to the bright yellow entrance.
The Assistant Director greeted us warmly, and quickly ushered us into the green room to wait while she found Lena. Our translator held the camera, and we jittered in anticipation…the last 3 minute wait was the hardest! But at last, the AD popped her head into the room and then everything else melted away as Lena ran into our arms.
Tears streamed down our translator’s face as she clicked away, capturing the first moments together again so we can cherish them forever…Lena kept repeating, “I can’t believe you’re finally here and this is real.” We just hugged her as tightly as we could.
The time finally came to let go, and we shifted to a sofa in the corner of the room. Lena sat between us, and we went through the photo albums we had brought. She ran up to her room and brought down a collection of family collages that she had made from photos we had sent to her; she and her friends had worked very hard to compose a card in English for us, filled with love and well-wishes.
She also brought down a large photo album containing many memories of her life, including a few photos of her bio parents, several photos from when she was very small (3 or 4) and many more of her friends and of adults from the church that the kids attend. As she explained each picture, we discovered that she had been studying English; her knowledge of English now completely surpasses my knowledge of Russian!
We missed her 14th birthday by just a few days, so we presented her with a set of bangle bracelets and a silver cross necklace. We then spent at least a half hour passing the necklace back and forth, each of us reducing the knot in the chain a little more before passing it on in frustration…Team Niles finally untangled it, and I was able to fasten it around Lena’s neck.
As we finally settled in, we pulled out a card game we played a lot when Lena visited us a couple of summers ago: Set. A matching game with shapes, colors, and numbers lends itself well to language-less play, and Lena had gotten pretty good at it while she was in the US. But when she started nailing sets instantly, we both just looked at her, stunned. “Every day,” she replied to our questioning faces. The cutest part was when she would see a set, but wait for one of us to find it…just like a parent waiting for a small child to see it and then feel triumphant! Needless to say, her practiced eye kicked our sleep-deprived tails: 14-5-4.
We chatted as much as we could without a translator; we discovered that school was closed, not for the holidays yet, but because of fear of a Swine Flu outbreak. We showed Lena photos of her new room and shared paint chips so she could pick a new color.
Through all of this, our translator was working in the Assistant Director’s office, preparing documents for Monday. They finished, and she came in to sit with us for a while. With a translator present, Lena’s inner chatterbox emerged. She talked about the movies and music she liked (she loves Twilight, but hasn’t read the books yet! Woohoo!), and asked for some DVDs and books to take back to America with us. She asked about school and what grade she would be in, and when she would start school, and how it worked for Masha, and how her teachers would teach her English. She asked about Masha’s career ambitions, and shared that she still wants to be a journalist. She brought down her notebook and her English textbook, and talked about what she was learning in school and what she thought worked and what didn’t. She talked a lot!!
We had noticed the guards wearing masks, and had seen very few kids in the hallways. From our translator, we learned that the orphanage was actually under a quarantine to prevent spread of the Flu, and that it was likely that our contact with the other kids on the Center would be pretty limited. We were not able to personally give the gifts we brought for the two other kids (or take pictures or pass on hugs and kisses from their American families). Huge, huge apologies to J. and R., but know that your gifts WILL of course be passed on to the kids.
We also learned that there will be a big celebration to honor the anniversary of the Center. Similar to the 1 June Children’s Day celebration that we saw last time we were here, there will be a big program, and many of the Center’s supporters will attend. We know that we’ll at least have an opportunity to see all of the kids then, and take many photos!
After a couple hours there, the AD appeared, all bundled up and ready to go. Our translator popped up and announced that our visit today was over, and that sadly, we would not be able to visit tomorrow because it was Sunday, but we would be back on Monday after all our paperwork was complete. We collected up all our things, hugged Lena about 30 more times, and waved “Paka!” as she disappeared up the stairs.
We drove the AD back home, then turned our thoughts to our bellies…we were starving! The cupbords in our apartment were totally bare, so we decided to go to Amstor, a Wal-Mart-like megamart with a cafeteria as well as a grocery. We filled up at the cafeteria, and then proceeded to overflow our cart with the groceries we would need for the next week as well as a huge bag of chocolates and various Vodkas to take home. Thank goodness Amstor takes credit cards!
Note to those of you following us…I’ve mentioned before, and will again. You can buy just about anything you need here, with one glaring exception: You cannot purchase plain potato chips. You can buy sour cream and onion chips. Or cheese-flavored chips. Or Crab-flavored chips (yes, yes, I said crab). But no plain ones. For an addict like me, that’s a tough one, but I’ll survive. You will too. :-)
Once our American consumerism was sated, we returned to our apartment as darkness fell over the town. Even 600 miles south, the sun sets around 4:00 here in mid-December. We shuttled our heavy grocery sacks upstairs and quickly unpacked everything. After a large late lunch, none of us was very hungry, so we snacked, washed two loads of laundry, read a little bit, called home and fell into bed completely exhausted.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Be Strong
Day 6 – Friday, 18 December
A weak light broke through the frost-covered window of our compartment, causing me to roll and face the wall and beg for a few hours in a soft bed with a fluffy pillow. Sleep on a train is only marginally more possible than sleep on a plane; at least on the train, you have the ability to lie flat, albeit on a hard, narrow bunk with sheets the texture of tea-towels dried on a clothesline. Again, I strongly recommend the use of pharmaceutical assistance!
We finally shook off the cobwebs a little before 10; our train was scheduled to arrive at the unpronounceable town of our destination at around noon. We believed the plan was to arrive, pile into a car, and drive to our final destination, arriving around 2:00 or so. Ahhhh, we were so naive. In short order, our translator popped back into the compartment, and it became apparent that the plan had changed. Despite my expectation that traveling south would mean warmer, more pleasant weather, there had been a huge snowstorm in the south, closing roads all over the place. Our driver was unable to meet us in the unpronounceable town; we were stranded.
Our translator parked us in a quiet corner of the train station’s unheated waiting room and went to work. She finally returned with a new plan and a message from her boss: “Be strong.” Turns out, there was a local train to our town that left at 3:00 and if all goes well, will arrive at 7:00 PM. Yes, this meant a 3-hour wait in an unheated train station when it was approximately 9 degrees outside and still snowing. And yes, this meant another 4-hour train ride, in a train equipped with bench seats and minimal heat. And yes, this meant that we would finally arrive in town a full 12 hours after we expected to. But we are strong, and in the end, it is what it is. Trains were running, cars were not. It was the best option available, so we took it.
Food options were extremely limited in the train station; seems that either dried or smoked fish is the food of choice for Ukrainian travelers. While we are very adventurous, our translator wisely decided that we were already close to our limit, and chose a small bruschetta with ham, tomato, and parsley to sustain us. We were also very thankful for the large sack of miscellaneous junk food I had packed back in Kyiv, and we devoured almost all of it while we waited. Be Strong.
At about 2:50, they called our train, and many people filed outside onto the snowy platform. The train, however, was not present, not did it choose to arrive for another 20 very, very cold minutes. There was no way for the station to know the exact arrival time, though, so all the passengers were required to…Be Strong.
While we waited, we watched another train approach the platform, but stop short. A crew of railway workers ran up to the front of the train with shovels and manually dug out a drift so the train could pass. Be Strong.
Finally, our train swept up to the platform, and we raced to board. My secret hope was that Train #2 would be as cozy warm as Train #1. Not to be. Train 2 resembled a subway car, only a bit wider, with bench seats facing each other and an aisle down the middle. And despite the heating vents running down each side of the car, it was almost as cold as outside. Be Strong.
We rushed to stow our immense collection of luggage on the overhead racks before anyone else could take the space, and settled into a set of seats as the train began to move.
As I mentioned, Train #2 was a local train. As such, it stopped many times, and people boarded and disembarked frequently. The combination of the many people and the weak heat radiating from the sides of the car brought the temperature to tolerable, provided you kept sweater, coat, scarf, and gloves on for the duration of the ride. But we were strong, and right on time at 7:00, we finally arrived. We hauled our assortment of baggage off the train a final time, and dragged to the waiting taxi.
The first step in the local adoption process is to obtain permission from the local Inspector to visit the orphanage and meet with the child you plan to adopt. Since we arrived so late, the Inspector’s office was closed. But God and good relationships were smiling on us…our translator had called ahead to the Inspector’s office earlier in the day and shared our tale of travel woe. The Inspector remembered us from Masha’s adoption, and she graciously agreed to meet with us after-hours to keep our process moving along. This was a GREAT exception to the normal way things are done, for which we are very thankful!
After this meeting (and collecting the associated documents), it was much too late to visit the orphanage. We were very tired after over 24 hours of travel for the second time in six days, so the taxi delivered us to our apartment, and we quickly settled in to the place we’ll call home for the next couple of weeks.
Starvation outranked exhaustion, though, so before calling it a night, we strolled across the street to a restaurant and had a wonderful meal with our translator. I had a terrific Ukrainian Borsch and veal with a mushroom-cream sauce, Mark had a sausage and vegetable soup and a pork chop and potato salad. We left feeling full and happy, and crashed quickly when we got back home.
A weak light broke through the frost-covered window of our compartment, causing me to roll and face the wall and beg for a few hours in a soft bed with a fluffy pillow. Sleep on a train is only marginally more possible than sleep on a plane; at least on the train, you have the ability to lie flat, albeit on a hard, narrow bunk with sheets the texture of tea-towels dried on a clothesline. Again, I strongly recommend the use of pharmaceutical assistance!
We finally shook off the cobwebs a little before 10; our train was scheduled to arrive at the unpronounceable town of our destination at around noon. We believed the plan was to arrive, pile into a car, and drive to our final destination, arriving around 2:00 or so. Ahhhh, we were so naive. In short order, our translator popped back into the compartment, and it became apparent that the plan had changed. Despite my expectation that traveling south would mean warmer, more pleasant weather, there had been a huge snowstorm in the south, closing roads all over the place. Our driver was unable to meet us in the unpronounceable town; we were stranded.
Our translator parked us in a quiet corner of the train station’s unheated waiting room and went to work. She finally returned with a new plan and a message from her boss: “Be strong.” Turns out, there was a local train to our town that left at 3:00 and if all goes well, will arrive at 7:00 PM. Yes, this meant a 3-hour wait in an unheated train station when it was approximately 9 degrees outside and still snowing. And yes, this meant another 4-hour train ride, in a train equipped with bench seats and minimal heat. And yes, this meant that we would finally arrive in town a full 12 hours after we expected to. But we are strong, and in the end, it is what it is. Trains were running, cars were not. It was the best option available, so we took it.
Food options were extremely limited in the train station; seems that either dried or smoked fish is the food of choice for Ukrainian travelers. While we are very adventurous, our translator wisely decided that we were already close to our limit, and chose a small bruschetta with ham, tomato, and parsley to sustain us. We were also very thankful for the large sack of miscellaneous junk food I had packed back in Kyiv, and we devoured almost all of it while we waited. Be Strong.
At about 2:50, they called our train, and many people filed outside onto the snowy platform. The train, however, was not present, not did it choose to arrive for another 20 very, very cold minutes. There was no way for the station to know the exact arrival time, though, so all the passengers were required to…Be Strong.
While we waited, we watched another train approach the platform, but stop short. A crew of railway workers ran up to the front of the train with shovels and manually dug out a drift so the train could pass. Be Strong.
Finally, our train swept up to the platform, and we raced to board. My secret hope was that Train #2 would be as cozy warm as Train #1. Not to be. Train 2 resembled a subway car, only a bit wider, with bench seats facing each other and an aisle down the middle. And despite the heating vents running down each side of the car, it was almost as cold as outside. Be Strong.
We rushed to stow our immense collection of luggage on the overhead racks before anyone else could take the space, and settled into a set of seats as the train began to move.
As I mentioned, Train #2 was a local train. As such, it stopped many times, and people boarded and disembarked frequently. The combination of the many people and the weak heat radiating from the sides of the car brought the temperature to tolerable, provided you kept sweater, coat, scarf, and gloves on for the duration of the ride. But we were strong, and right on time at 7:00, we finally arrived. We hauled our assortment of baggage off the train a final time, and dragged to the waiting taxi.
The first step in the local adoption process is to obtain permission from the local Inspector to visit the orphanage and meet with the child you plan to adopt. Since we arrived so late, the Inspector’s office was closed. But God and good relationships were smiling on us…our translator had called ahead to the Inspector’s office earlier in the day and shared our tale of travel woe. The Inspector remembered us from Masha’s adoption, and she graciously agreed to meet with us after-hours to keep our process moving along. This was a GREAT exception to the normal way things are done, for which we are very thankful!
After this meeting (and collecting the associated documents), it was much too late to visit the orphanage. We were very tired after over 24 hours of travel for the second time in six days, so the taxi delivered us to our apartment, and we quickly settled in to the place we’ll call home for the next couple of weeks.
Starvation outranked exhaustion, though, so before calling it a night, we strolled across the street to a restaurant and had a wonderful meal with our translator. I had a terrific Ukrainian Borsch and veal with a mushroom-cream sauce, Mark had a sausage and vegetable soup and a pork chop and potato salad. We left feeling full and happy, and crashed quickly when we got back home.
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