Playing for Pizza

Tonight we made pizza -- real, American-style deep-dish pizza. (well, it would have been authentic if we had pepperoni, or italian sausage, or mozzarella... instead, the random cheese and fresh veggies worked just fine, since we had real pizza sauce and I made the crust from scratch -- comeplete with Russian yeast!) It seems like a little thing, but somehow this taste of home was a big success after a frustrating day.

We had been told we were needed to sign papers today, in the town an hour or so away from Kiev where Dima was born. The initial reaction to this news was disappointment, as Thursday is the day I go to a women's Bible study, and then to the "widow's knitting group" -- the highlight of my week. However, as we are here to do the adoption, I knew these other things had to give way to adoption stuff, so we prepared to go. We didn't know what time we'd leave (which is how things usually work here) so we just got ready early this morning then waited. We got a phone call to give us a few minutes notice to be on the street -- but then we were told that we don't all have to come, just one of us. Well.... if I'd known that, I could have still taken Tris to the Bible study and not missed out! But by then it was too late (as I'd missed my escort to the study, and didn't know how to get there on my own), so we decided to all go together -- a decision that seemed to annoy the driver for some reason. (Thankfully, it was Vadim, not Bogdan, so we didn't get nearly as carsick -- or terrified -- as we could have.) So we made the drive through the country (which was beautiful -- much more green than the city, with alternating pine and birch forrests) and arrived at our destination, where we didn't even get out of the car. Our presence was completely unnecessary! Grrrr! So then it was another hour+ back to the city (meanwhile, we are furtively nibbling on pretzels and snickers -- hazelnut snickers! yuck! -- in the back seat, because it's lunchtime. Apparently Ukrainians have no need to eat. Or use the bathroom --we've never seen any of our guides do either.) and then a wait outside the court building where we are, once again, not needed. At this point Ted asks Vadim where the bathroom is (I guess if you don't eat you don't have to go). Vadim doesn't speak much English, and his first suggestion was to wave at the stand of muddy trees next to the court building. Since it was me who had to go, some gesturing and pointing made it clear this wouldn't work. Once Slava came back to the car, Vadim starts driving around, pointing and grumbling at her about "toilet! toilet!" I didn't realize it was such a faux paux to have to go potty... He finally stopped at a mall and escorted us brusquely to the bathrooms... good thing I had some kleenex in my pockets! Next stop was to pick up Irina -- which brings the count in our car up to six. This is the kind of car that is almost comfortable for four! So Tristan sits on my lap (where his giant melon head clanged against the window at every pothole) and Irina squeezed in beside Ted. Soon we were home again, feeling a real sense of dissatisfaction with what we "accomplished" for the day -- thus the reason for a successful dinner being so significant! Not counting the time we spend visiting Dima (which is still, by necessity, not a ton of time) I would say we are only actually spending maybe 2 hours a week (counting all the time back and forth in the car) doing adoption stuff. Which begs the question -- why, why why do we have to be here for 2 months????

Someone asked Ted (who I must say is having a harder time here than I am, although it is hard for me too at times) if there was anything here he likes. I'm not sure how he answered the question, but I will try here to explain. It's not so much that this is such a terrible place, or (hopefully not!) that we are just big whining sissies (ok, maybe that's a possibility). It's more just the situation of being here: we are not here on vacation, staying at a nice place for a few days with lots of money to spend on eating out and entertainment. Neither though, are we settled in, with basic comforts and infrastructure -- we are kind of squatting. One pan in a tiny kitchen, yet we have to cook. All day with little to do, yet we can't spend money on touristy stuff or entertainment (and we have a very energetic little boy! and it's been cold/muddy/rainy most of the time, eliminating much outside playing, if we knew where outside play areas even were...) No hairdryer (I know, it's a luxury), strange pillows, a bedroom with insufficient curtains to cut out the light from the bright and noisy steet below, one set of sheets that have to drip dry after we wash them (in the cold and rain, I guess I will be ironing the sheets dry tonight before bed). We only have one key to our flat (and you must use the key to get in the building at the street, then into the flat) so we either can't split up or whoever stays is locked in or in an unlocked flat (you must have the key to lock the door from the inside.) It's all these truly little things that, added up, make it difficult to "live" here.

But it is not without it's benefits. Most days we spend the whole day together. And our little victories (successfully ordering at a restaurant, buying a new food item, getting toothpaste that tastes minty, finding a pair of nail clippers, etc) are sweet. Everything seems to take longer, but there is a simplicity in most of the day being used up in food prep, laundry, and schoolwork, instead of the rushing around that is normal in America. And most of all we are thankful that God is still at work here, in Kiev, and in our hearts, patiently stripping away the bad and gradually shaping us more like Himself. So please do bear with us in our seemingly endless complaints -- we don't mean them to be negativity for the sake of negativity, we just want to share with you honestly and from our hearts what our struggles are, and to give you a little feel of what it's like to be here. In so many ways you are here with us -- we appreciate all of your prayers and support.