Origins

Another busy day today.  Eight hours worth of work and travel.  Much of the time, we feel like luggage as our facilitators take us from place to place with little understanding of why we are there or what we are supposed to be doing.  There are certain…elements… of getting things done here that would not be considered… well, acceptable protocol in the US.  Nevertheless, our facilitators are extremely competent, honest and hard-working.  These two ladies have very good English, know the precise steps that must be taken to get the adoption pushed through the system and aggressively strive on our behalf.  I truly have no idea how people adopt here without facilitators.  Unless you are entirely fluent in Russian AND Ukrainian, know the culture and protocols, and have connections within government, transportation and lodging, it would seem an insurmountable task to me.

Today, we needed to travel to Liza’s birth village to complete the legal separation of her from her sister.  We needed to apply to the local government of that village for the separation, about an hour from us.  First, we stopped by the orphanage to consult with the social worker about how certain questions should be answered that the administrator there would ask us. 

As we drove down the road that winds up to the orphanage, I could see two teenage girls walking across the playground.  Since school was in session, they were the only two outside and they were walking arm-in-arm. When we rounded the corner, I immediately recognized them as Liza and her sister.  We parked and they walked up to us, seeming somewhat solemn.  Liza hugged us and smiled.  I told her that we did not get to see her yesterday because be had been doing many things for the adoption – and that we had much work to do today as well.  She looked toward one of our facilitators whom she has known for 9 years and told her that she was worried that she would not be adopted – that there might be problems with the documents.  She replied that things were going very smoothly and not be worried.  Liza said (in Russian – she knows very little English), “will we be home in time for Merry Christmas?”  I can only imagine what this child has fantasized about Christmas in a house, with a family that loves her.  The traditions, the warmth and love that most of us associate with that time of year and look forward to are just pictures in a book or scenes on the TV screen that have never been reality to her.  The facilitator answered, “maybe, I think maybe yes, but I don’t know”.

We have been given permission to take Liza away from the orphanage for a few hours on Thanksgiving.  We plan to go to lunch, a movie and bowling.  We told her our plans and asked her sister if she would like to come too.  She smiled her small guarded smile and nodded.  We are so looking forward to some time away from the orphanage where we can interact with Liza in a free environment.  We left her with a hug and a kiss and headed to the town in which she was born, about 90 kilometers away.

The hour drive was, uh… rough.  Reagan was immensely carsick.  Imagine the way you feel when you race around a track in a go cart.  That’s what driving in Ukraine feels like.  We traveled through the country, passing shacks and shanties, walled-in yards, farms with super-rich, dark soil renowned for amazing produce and miles and miles of open fields.

We arrived in Liza’s village of origin and had an hour to kill while our papers were drawn up.  We were starving and needed a restroom so our facilitators had us get out of the car and walk through a nearby outdoor “mall” to find something to eat.  Let me reiterate that this was a village.  It was stark and bleak and grey.  A statue of Stalin still stood nearby and the place was like a ghost town with the occasional person walking by or riding on a bike.  Our facilitator turned to us and said “this is like a horror movie.  Where is everyone?  Everything is closed.”  I told her I kept waiting for zombie’s to come out of the alleys.  We walked around for about 20 minutes but all the restaurants were closed (at 1 pm) and only the little grocery was open. 

A lot of people warned us that food in Ukraine is terrible but Reagan and I trust it and enjoy it more than food in the U.S..  Besides the fact that they eat a lot of sausage/salami and breads/starches, everything is natural and fresh and whole. In this tiny village, we finally found a restaurant and had a greek vegetable salad, a bowl of chicken soup, a chicken breast fried in egg with fresh potato fries for $7 – total.  All amazing.  I kept converting the Grivna in my head thinking I must be doing my math wrong or the check must have been in dollars.  Despite the bleak nature of this village, the people there seemed to have a strong work ethic.

We returned to the village administrator and answered a few questions they had for us about how we knew Liza.  Our head facilitator told us as we left that we answered every question perfectly and that we needed to same exact performance for the judge in a couple weeks.  Back in the city, our facilitator had a special meeting with the judge to ensure that our papers could be filed and that we would not spend weeks waiting for a court date.  For the next few days, our facilitators will be working on our behalf and won’t have need of us.  We are planning to spend some time doing something enjoyable (hopefully).  We will also be able to resume our normal visits to Liza after she gets out of school.

I had the most unusual feeling when we left the village this afternoon.  I felt like I was living out a movie.  Like every aspect of this story from beginning to end had already been determined, even though I didn’t know what was next.  My Reformed friends are probably not surprised by that, but it’s one thing to hold such a belief and another to feel it.  Reagan and I truly feel that every second of this adventure has been orchestrated from beginning to end and we were simply the actors on the screen in which our “free” actions were precisely what the script called for. 

Please pray for expedience in establishing our court date.  There are certain “methods” which we are not privy to that can help speed the process up, but even then there are still steps that cannot be expedited.  At this point, that is the only variable that can really save us time and get us home for Christmas.