"Planes, Trains and Automobiles",coffee mugs and apparel ammo!

There's a scene in "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" that, although highly inappropriate, rings true for, I believe, all of us at some point. Steve Martin is standing at the rental car counter and lets the customer service rep. have it (several times) with, what I believe is the only word that really works sometimes. Before you go casting self-righteous daggers in my direction, let me qualify by saying that this word RARELY makes it out of mouth. For those of you can't help but gasp, I'd submit you're either disingenuous or disengaged-either way, relax!! We all have the same Saviour. And what is it with Steve Martin: "Planes, Trains and Automobiles", "Parenthood" (my favorite), "Father Of The Bride"...

What does this have to do with this "blog"? For those who are here or have been here-you know! For those who are coming or are digesting whether to come-you will know! To be sure, Aimee and I have had it good while here, save a few events (like yesterdays moronic taxi driver who took us to the wrong address then charged us $10.00USD for a $2.00USD ride). Aimee reminded me yesterday that I shouldn't be so negative. I agree-to a point(she always has good input). It's not that things have been "bad", they've been outside of the world that I've learned to navigate, outside my "comfort zone". However, we are going home with our new 15 year old on Tuesday. She's healthy. She's animated(oh, my God, is she animated!) She demonstrates remarkable empathy and forgiveness (like when "papa" refuses to leave St. Andrews and return home in the same direction so as not to get lost...........but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I take us in the exact opposite direction for an hour long "lost-fest" ending with the taxi ride home with the above mentioned). She tried to tell me, I didn't listen, frustrated her, cost me more than I should have paid and she still likes me. She adores her new "mama". She's got beautiful eyes, actually wears things we buy her (unlike other teenagers in our lives-love you guys!) and makes her bed every morning without a single, "Ya nye kochu!!" This is the phrase of choice for many things. If you hear it, look out! If I'm hearing and relating it correct, it means, "I don't want to!". I've learned to respond with, "Ochen zhal!"-"Too Bad!" As one of our commenter's mentioned; while they are still here, they love to exercise their "language superiority..." over you-subordinating you to their desires. I'm OK with this because in two days we will be surrounded by English and it will be at this point that all the frustrations, anxieties and experiences related to the language barrier will pay off as I will completely empathize with her frustration, not dismissing it, until she assimilates. Without this knowledge and personalization, I have no doubt I would have told her, "Ochen zhal". Now, I will know to provide comfort and support. While she will express her points, rather loudly, at the end she respects and complies with most everything.

Back to "that word". There have been moments here that it almost made an appearance. The policies and procedures that we think can be relied on don't happen here. The orphanage changed the visitation policy daily, if not more. Sometimes red-lights mattered, sometimes they didn't. There are moments with our Ukrainian Princess where all is as I envisioned it. At times I wonder what we've done exposing ourselves to this process as well as other family members. Oddly, I have no regrets whatsoever. In fact, I wish I had one or two more just to make it more fun as Aimee and I thrive on this type of activity. We have learned that the more we become involved with situations like this, the faster the days go and the less we spend worrying about ourselves. You become a participant in events and a life that slowly erodes selfishness and the "me-isms" that our culture worships. I compare it to sending a coin on a rolling path downward in a funnel: the deeper it goes towards its goal, the more it speeds up and stays on path to the bottom-focused, determined and no where else to go because it's committed and at the mercy of its destination AND it can't end up anywhere else. It has "promise" so to speak, of ending up where it was pointed. Strange analogy, I know. Perhaps there are some who look at it more like a toilet flushing-too bad for you. I have often wondered how people survived serving others, especially when that service was barely, if at all, recognized. The older I get the more clear this becomes. What is time on earth compared to eternity? Do the right things!! I don't pretend for a moment to be righteous. I don't always do the right things, in fact, I'm amazed at how far I can stray in thought and action. Those who follow adoption blogs and do things that really matter are after the heart of God. If I recall correctly, King David was, "...a man after God's own heart."; it doesn't say he found it! The Lord knows our efforts and knows we're not our own saviour.

Enough of the positives...men, if you're wife disappears in a public place after leaving for the bathroom, make an appearance on her behalf. Being stuck in a McDonald's bathroom will undermine her ability to go to the bathroom alone from there on out. All those years poking fun at women for going to the bathroom together will now undermine your manhood as you become the new "bathroom buddy". Try telling her "no" when she requests that you accompany her. Worse, try not feeling stupid when you're standing outside the women's bathroom door in Ukraine. It gets better: rent a flat on the same day where the bathroom door(you guessed it) can't be opened except for providing a butter knife that separates the door from the frame just enough to open-no anxiety for her there! You have to understand my wife; this girl is 100%, class grade AAA, pink wearing, dolled up, big-beautiful almond shaped eyes, over-reacting, trust issued, fantasy driven, mam-bear mentality, "I like it the way I like it" living, temperature intolerant (2 degrees either side of 72 degrees requires wardrobe change), "...don't walk on that floor I just mopped it!" touting, come kill this microscopic spider screaming, relentless hand washing, passenger-side pull down mirror blocking my safe line of sight using, freezing cold anatomy in the heat of summer, can't pull in or out of the garage without knocking off $300 mirrors driving, 7 pairs of shoes to Ukraine wearing, suitcase that doubles as an SUV bringing, chap stick wearing, Febrezing everything using, angelic smile flashing, American woman. My wife expects nothing less of me than to provide for her complete care and comfort. It's a huge motivator for me because I need goals and an adventure-although I'm really not one, she provides me with never-ending opportunities to be her "hero". Keeps me in tune with her. There is, in my opinion, a biblical basis for some of this: I believe men are called to love their wives as Christ loved the church. Their was no subordinating, there was service. There were no harsh demands and/or expectations, there were gentle words and empathy. I cannot begin to claim these virtues as my own, quite the contrary (those who know me well or even those reading my words know this)but I try. King David, Samson, Moses, Peter were all "contrary".

Back to adoption blogging: I discovered the most difficult thing for us was the securing of usable, reasonable return tickets to actually get home. When I first booked our tickets back in mid-September, I guessed October 31st. Had to change them. Because of the "unknown", you can't secure these tickets until you know for sure that you're Embassy appointment will end with your visa in hand. By then, you're faced with flight availability and costs that can be frustrating. Back in the states, you rely on "guarantees" and reservations. That does not work in this process. All it takes is one thing and you're best made plans can sink. The worst part is that your best bet is to purchase a round trip ticket for your child/children knowing you will never use one leg of the trip. The airlines actually are shrewd here, they offer the tickets in this manner knowing that they will, many times, get paid for seats not used, then resell them. No wonder they're going out of business-it's not "9/11" and the cost of a barrel of oil, it's bad business practices on a grander, yet more subtle scale that is fostering a frustration among the paying public. Book your flights as soon as possible after your sure of your embassy appointment date.

Yesterday we walked to St. Andrews. All I can say is, "Awesome". There is a street that runs up to St. Andrews that is lined with booths of all kinds called Desyattyann St. It is completely tourist oriented and they sell almost anything you could want for taking back as gifts or for your own memories. The best thing to do is to start at one end and walk all the way up or down. Make mental notes of things you liked but do not buy them the first time through. Buy all the stuff the 2nd time through as you will find duplicate items at different prices, or at least similar items that you may like better than the first one you see. By the time we were done, we had small bags of items which I had the pleasure of carrying all day. We did allow Anya to buy quite a few things that were not to expensive. She's very proud of Ukraine and wanted lots of items, like a Ukrainian flag that will cover an entire wall of her bedroom. When I first declined, she whirled around and stated, "I like..it is my country...I'm leaving", I held out until she said, as only a Ukrainian teen age girl can, "PaPaaaa"! Wait 'til you hear that, guys!!! It was after we left the huge museum adjacent to St. Andrews that I lost my bearings. Go to the museum.

We also took Anya to the front gates of the SDA, where the process really began. It was a little surreal. Last time we were at that gate we were hoping and praying that the picture shown us was hers for the referral, now, we're thinking about suing...not really! Geez, relax! If you're one of those that knows you initially became unnerved by that, you need to relax. This is a very serious, life-changing process, at the same time you'll spontaneously explode if you can't approach it with humor. It may be a poor coping skill, but it works for me.

No cities, anywhere should be configured with converging streets anchored in large circles! I drive for UPS and I thrive on knowing where I'm going. Very frustrating to admit I literally went the opposite direction. When you see "Independence Square" on your way home and you live 2 miles from there and you didn't see it going to St. Andrews, that's a problem.

We've also discovered that in Kiev, you can eat out as cheap, if not cheaper, than you can buying groceries and cooking in your flat and you know what you're getting and your child can't pretend to be ordering what you pointed at and in reality ordering exactly what she wants. We approach being served our meals more as, "What is this? That's not what I pointed at!"-followed by, you guessed it, "...no speak English.."! Ya, right! Also, everything seems to be baked or fried inside some kind of cabbage or wrap of some sort. Be adventurous when biting into things. There's always some kind of cheese, meat, potato, veggie or God knows what else inside; as if not being able to read it wasn't a surprise enough.

I'd like to mention our cab ride while in Donetsk. We arrived in Donetsk at approximately 5:15PM on Tuesday. Nadiya hooked us up with a friend who had a car and knew the city well. What that really meant was that he knew how to be a complete maniac in order to get us where we needed to be. Had this not happened, Nadiya was going to have to stay in Donetsk overnight. We would have had to abandon the train ticket for her and buy a brand new one and pay for a place for her to stay. This guy sped around Donetsk using his car with the same recklessness as a cowboy would use his gun in the old west. At one point he ran his car balanced on rail road tracks (not rail car tracks-train tracks!) for about 50 yards. We got done in one hour what we were told would take all afternoon once in Donetsk. We made the train by 15 minutes.

After much debate, my wife and I have determined that the #1 thing we wished we had brought with us were our "travel-coffee mugs". They do not believe in any sort of take out or travel anything, here. If you're one for coffee and lots of it, bring one-they are no where to be found here. We resorted to saving a McDonald's coffee cup that came with a lid. This is the same cup that just collapsed from usage about 20 minutes ago and spilled all over the only pair of jeans Aimee could wear as well as the only sweater she wanted to wear-remember "that word"? Uh-huh!! It's little things like that that are now causing stress, and lots of it. This place and being out of control of most of what we do is really starting to take it's toll. We've both had it. Small amounts of miscommunication can lead to disasters, you can imagine what that does to things when it is almost non-existent. Like when I'm completely right and the lovely Aimee is wrong and the only way to communicate that is to lovingly shove her off the bed onto the floor, away from the computer (the bed is actually a low couch about 10 inches off the floor-it's not domestic violence unless it's higher than 12 inches above floor level, or until she reads this blog later and I'm never heard from or seen again). Remember that part about, "...being her hero..."? Not sure that's how she'd phrase it right now. And from a mathematical point of view: 7 pairs of shoes=14 rounds of ammunition. I choose to see myself as a war correspondent faithfully relating the events while under fire. Perhaps I now qualify for the G.I. bill and all the benefits thereof...

Our one remaining concern is getting Anya from Chicago to Denver on the last leg of the flight home. I'm not real concerned about this. Once US Immigration gets a dose of our Anya, they will slam her through the process and get her out as fast as possible and on her way. I can only imagine that watching each person come out of the walk-way from the plane at the terminal will be tense, although I also imagine we'll hear her 1/2 way across Iowa somewhere in an all to familiar tune...."Ya nye kachu"!

Off for more sight-seeing. Lots of pictures of the museum, we'll caption later.