Exposed! (again)

OK! Well, thanks for the input about how to recover my blog post-7 hours late (thanks Kari). While this is a good thing, there's also one problem: because I thought it was gone forever, I described it as "GOOD...really GOOD!" Remember that? Now I have to post it because I'm too lazy to redo what is already available. I'm apprehesive about this for fear that if it isn't all that "GOOD", then I'm completely exposed in the same fashion as someone who posts someone else's picture on an Internet dating site!! It's like people who can be anyone they want and say anything they want about themselves behind and E-mail address because no one will ever know, except in this case, everyone can find me. Oh well, so I'm a liar-dang it.

So here goes:

We heard from the Barrett's tonight who are surviving(in every sense of the word) their time in Gorodnya. Without going into all the details, I have to say, "Hang in there" and that doesn't begin to touch the surface of the chaos that is their experience here in Ukraine.

Tonight, Aimee and I realized that our two biggest complaints were: 1. We wish we had an extension cord for our lap top so we could use our computer closer to the couch(we actually do have one, concerned it would blow the fuses if used). And(this is a killer) 2. We have to vacate the apartment for 4 hours tomorrow because our own private cleaning service is arriving at 9AM to completely clean the place and will do so every Friday-"Lord, when will it ever end". What's next? Take out our own trash? Less than perfect weather? Eating less than 11 times/day? Who do I take such grievances too? Outrageous!! Aimee and I actually feel like we are floating somewhere between "Ukrainian Adoption LaLa Land" and, " All hell's about to break loose-land".

It didn't take long for human nature to supersede the "love-fest" we've been wallowing in with Anya. Jealousy, by the way, is universal! So as not to implicate those involved (hint:teenage Ukrainian female) we'll just say that our relentless pursuit of attempting to pronounce a particular {other} teenage girls names can lead another particular teenage girl to jump to completely groundless assumptions that because your saying this certain name over and over, that THAT would be the one you REALLY care about(even though the language barrier gives her absolutely NO idea the context)!! But why should reality, context or common sense prevail when you can manipulate the situation into a "pout-fest". Nice try. Like I don't see that, well, almost everyday back home from any one of a number of family members. We discovered that phrases like, "...grow up...", "...quit acting like a child...(even though she is)" and "...get over it...", translate quite well from English to Ukrainian-thanks Nadiya! Dad=2, Teenage Ukrainian Female=0. That's a 200% advantage-YES! The best part: she was shortly in Aimee's arms as well as mine, smiling, more secure than ever that she's "in".

Valentin told us that a 2nd referral is like, "..looking for gold at the end of the rainbow." I think of it more like, "...no, an orphan at the end of Chevchenko Blvd." Either way, it's not likely to happen-at least not now. It is becoming apparent that we will, more than likely, be back here in 13 months to do this all over again-this time possibly for two more. The only issue with this is that at this time, no girls are available that fall in our age range (10-16), who are off the registry and don't have siblings-small window of opportunity. You'll have to understand if I don't elaborate.

My emotions (I have, I believe, one left), are in over-drive. We met several kids the last few days that do nothing short of reach down your throat and grab your heart, extract it and run up the stairs, squealing the whole way-it's really quite irritating. What I wouldn't do for a 10 bedroom home(like, oh, stay a whole night in Gorodnya maybe)!

Anya has shown us several trees with carvings in them. One shown here is her name in Cyrillic. There were others, including a former boyfriend-WHAT?! My first thought was; wow, orphans running around with knives and carving utensils-no problems there, no opportunity for bad things to happen. As I got closer, I realized just how DEEP those cuts were, those names were staying in those trees-I'm surprised the trees survived. We'll just ignore the under-lying psychological implications hidden in all those gashes.

We had to purchase several items today at Fox Mart. The driver drove us three miles each way and waited an hour while we shopped-$16USD! The simplest math regarding exchange rate: $1.00USD=$5.00grv.(Approximately). $1.00grv=$0.20!! I believe over the next two weeks we will be worshipping at the alter of the Fox Mart logo-it's a "comfort" and "safety" thing with Aimee.

I "gave" my digital camera to Anya this afternoon. Quite frankly, if I don't give her mine, Aimee would have( if she were able to get past my super cool, Swiss made, TSA approved miniature security locks). When you give birth to a teenager the "present curve" is steep! Blocks, stuffed animals or even old boxes don't cut it, no, you're straight into expensive, delicate electronic equipment. I hope it makes it out of the orphanage tomorrow.

Speaking of photo-op's: there is small boat shaped piece of playground equipment in the back of the orphanage-perfect for, "I'm the king of the world" scene in "Titanic". After I pushed Anya off the boat, the "king" took his spot; not one of my prouder moments, but I do have boundaries. During our walk around the orphanage, I got an even better idea of just how much money is being poured into improvements on the grounds and the structures (which can be seen on "Google Earth"). The walk was also when we got to spend time with Lyena (sp? and pronunciation?-recall the whole "jealousy" incident?) and Anya. This was the banner moment of the day, at least it was for me.

Today's "Taxi Cab" story: the driver looked like a "Boy George" groupie. Old military coat, shaved head, tattoos, earrings (everywhere), what looked like dark eye shadow. I was waiting for him to break out into that one song, you know, the one where you don't know if he's saying, "...come-uh, come-uh, come-uh, come-uh, come-uh chameleon..." or, "...kharma, kharma, kharma, kharma kharma chameleon...". Or is just me?? I don't know. There's been several songs like that in my life where I've said the wrong words for years and then one day it hits you-you see it somewhere, or it's more clear in a remake or someone says something about it and you stand there in all your inner shame and humiliation, trying to act like, "..oh, yeah, I've known those words all along...", all those horrors come rushing over you-that everyone who has ever been within ears shot of you is now vindicated that, yes, you're a moron! Now all those unwarranted stares, glares and eye-rolling looks you received makes sense. It wasn't your fashion choice, it was the stupid words that only YOU didn't know. Maybe it is just me. Does Boy George even sing that song? See....

Back to "Orphan Adoption Blogging": Today's clothing advisory-bring 1/3 of what you think you need. I've discovered that I CAN, indeed, where the same socks for four days. And, because Aimee is so concerned about the water drying out her skin or the laundry smelling strange, I get, virtually a free pass on personal hygiene.

Anya gives me the ole, "...blah, blah, blah..." when she pretends not to be understanding me, key word, "...pretends...". These kids, while they may not be able to perform conversational english, they comprehend it. Do not be fooled; nuance and delivery say a lot, they play the "...no speak english..." card as long as possible, especially the older ones.

I am fully aware that tough times are ahead, some more than others(especially if she doesn't stop wearing jeans that are the equivalent of low-rise underwear-I don't care if that's Ukrainian fashion, it's not what "Papa" wants/needs to see), but for now my affection for her and determination to do the best for her keeps ratcheting upward.

One more thing: don't mess around with the women taking your order or running the cash register. They have very little, actually "zero" patience for smart-alec foreign tourists. They just don't know me well enough to appreciate the humor and smoothness-what is "THEIR" problem? What was Aimee thinking all those years ago. If I lived here, I'd be the lead character in "The 40 Year Old Virgin."

Got to go: cleaning lady here!