Safe in the Ukraine



Hi, all-
I must say that the rest of my journey to Odessa, Ukraine was uneventful. I flew out of DC Saturday evening and landed in Vienna, Austria Sunday morning. After a brief layover, I flew into Odessa. My luggage was all there and accounted for, there was no terrible turbulence, and I had one of those great exit row seats. Sounds pretty posh, huh? That is until I was somewhere over the Atlantic and that little voice started to ask me what I was doing. In the darkness of the cabin I started to think about what I was usually doing on a Saturday night: watching a movie with the kids, working on the computer, talking with my husband, etc. And then the doubts came. For a brief moment, I doubted the purpose in my coming here. But sleep and reflection helped to lull those thoughts away and I made it to my final destination. As I gathered all 150 lbs of luggage (sidenote - there are no luggage carts in Ukraine!) and approached immigration and customs, an American in line behind me struck up a conversation. After surveying my luggage, he asked if I was moving to Odessa. When I replied that I was bringing some things to "friends", he lowered his voice and said "Don't tell them that at customs! They'll charge you a 50% tax on the declared value of everything you brought." Oy! "They'll definitely stop you and ask because you have so many bags," he continued. So I get up to the X-ray machine and load everything through. The official standing at the other end waves me to a place on the side to wait as the other American loads his things through. When both of our things have passed through the machine, he looks at both of us calculatingly and says "You may go, miss. You sir, bring your bag to the desk." And quickly as I could, I grabbed everything and headed for the exit.

Just as promised, Dr. R and a handful of orphans are waiting for me. He introduces me to a 26 yr old young woman named Olya who he has arranged to go with me and act as my translator. Praise God! She is stunningly beautiful and sweet natured. After a few moments talking together, we figure out that WE KNOW EACH OTHER!!! She and I have communicated months ago when I was doing some research into adopting in Ukraine. What are the odds??? Olya has a ministry to the kids. She goes on to tell me about her church. She is Presbyterian (and she makes sure I understand that she is REFORMED Presbyterian). We get to know each other on the car ride to the hotel. It is centrally located and safe. It is quite nice by European standards.

Our first stop today was Orphanage #4 that houses 7-17 year olds. It is a holiday weekend (today was "Cemetary Day"), so many children have gone to attend a special event. But that gave us a chance to walk the halls of the orphange. This one held 400 children at one time, but is now down to around 200. It is a very stark environment with a Communist era building serving as both school and dormitory. Layers of paint flake and crack along the walls. You have to watch your step as the floor is coming apart in sections. One dark and gloomy hall melts into another darker one. The children sleep on the second floor and attend class on the bottom floor. They live in "groupas" according to age/grade. I asked where they "hung out" when they were not in class. Imagine this, their classrooms are also their living rooms. So in other words, they come down to class each day, go to the cafeteria for lunch, back to class, and then at the end of the day they return to their classroom or play outside until its time for bed. Can you imagine? Oh, and their bedrooms! I saw beds that were 40 years old, sunk in the middle, with thin mattresses. Their personal belongings fit in a shoebox at best.

Later in the afternoon, we visited Orphanage #5. The dormitories where the children live has been under renovation for 2 years (things move very slowly here). So the children are housed in another facility a mile away. They walk to school in two rows each day, then back to the dorms in the afternoon, and then back to the school for supper in the evening. And that is regardless of weather (rain, snow, etc). I was able to meet about 40 children at this orphange. One little girl asked an older girl who spoke English to introduce her. Her name was Sasha and she wanted to make sure that she had said hello to me before I left. I thought she was 7 years old from her size, but I found out that she was 12! While the children here are not starving, they are malnourished. They are small for their age compared to American children. They faces are thin and sometimes drawn. The children were polite and well behaved. They seemed cheerful despite their surroundings. I watched the boys play soccer and the girls talk in whispered huddles. At dinner time the kids filed into the cafteria where they were served great hunks of bread and what looked alike a rice based mush. Most of them pushed it around their plate and then returned the plate to the kitchen still full. While the government provides the orphanges with financial support, it is minimum at best. The orphange gets roughly $3 per orphan per day for food. That does not leave room for luxuries like fruit and candy.

Jet lag is starting to kick in and I have an early morning tomorrow to visit several more orphanges. I will try to post pics if I can find a computer that will allow me to. Keep praying for me.