Today was another check-it-off-the-list business day:
10am – U.S. Embassy Appointment, to turn in a form that is normally turned in at the end of the adoption process, but because the girls are both past their 16th birthdays, we needed to do it now – in effect, ‘buying’ ourselves another 45 days to keep their cases open.
Our driver ‘Stas’ picked us up at 9:30 and drove us through the post-apocalyptic snow storm aftermath, to the U.S. Embassy here in Kiev. He was really worried we wouldn’t get there in time for our appointment because of traffic, but we showed right on time, of course. God is bigger than traffic. True to form as we’ve seen thus far, we ran into our first ‘problem’ of the day. I put the word problem in parenthesis, because really, all of the bumps we’ve run into (even throughout the last year of this process) really haven’t been ‘problems’. More like; re-routes… or challenges. Yes, that’s it. In fact, henceforth, I will refer to ‘problems’ as re-routes or challenges, because that’s what they are. God’s change or challenge of my plan!
We were not allowed into the Embassy unless we had made an appointment first – (enter the opening challenge of the day). There were Ukrainian nationals standing around everywhere by the gate, and I’m still not quite sure why they were all there. Maybe waiting for appointments themselves? Visa’s? Husbands? A guard approached us with a list, and asked for our names.
“Sartain” – I felt like I was trying to get in to a hot new club in New York or Hollywood, but needed to get past the bouncer first….. “He searched for a while, then showed us the list. In broken English, he says, “Can you show me where you see your name?”
Sure enough, our name wasn’t on the list. (Moment of internal panic). Should I tell him that I’m with the band??
“Brett, call Konstantin (our adoption facilitator), he said he made the appointment for us last night.”
*ring, ring* (Konstantin) “Yes, I did make the appointment, I will make a call.” *click
*ring, ring* “Hi Konstantin.”
“You see? American’s make mistakes too – you have the appointment; they don’t know why your name is not on the list.”
Within seconds, another guard came out of the security checkpoint, and ushered us into the building. I was half expecting a disco ball and pounding techno, but alas, I was greeted only by a metal detector. Our visit to American soil lasted only half an hour, and then we were whisked away again by our driver.
12:00 noon – Apartment check out:
Even though we had left our appointment at the Embassy with plenty of time to get back, traffic had gotten much worse, and the cleaning lady was already waiting at our door as we hauled ourselves up the three flights of steep wooden steps to our room. Our train to Kharkov didn’t leave until 10:30 that night, but we didn’t want to pay for another half day, so we threw our remaining items into our bags, and lugged them across the street to the apartment rental office for stowage . It took two trips, and we still had all of the gifts for the orphanage in our bags, so they were HEAVY! Don’t be surprised if we come back thinner. No wonder everyone we’ve seen is stick-thin. It seems like everyday living is a workout in and of itself! Not complaining – we can certainly stand to drop a few American L B’s.
1:00 – Lunch!
Pretty much self-explanatory. We’ve walked down to the underground mall about twice a day to find a meal, and we always seem to default to ‘Pizatta Hotta’, a cafeteria style restaurant that Michelle showed us on our first day in Kiev. Nothing fancy, just good, traditional comfort food; and it’s the only place we’ve found where we don’t have to look at a menu – just point, and grunt; then pay at a register. (Did I mention they have $1 cappuccinos?)
With most of our official appointments out of the way and time to kill before our train departed, we took advantage of the moment and sat out in the food court, just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.
4:30 – CPS referral letter
This letter was the last critical thing we needed before we could travel to Rachel’s orphanage. We met up with another adopting family, Graham & Luzma, and their 10 year old (who had been adopted from Russia as a baby), and walked the 6 blocks or so to the CPS office, taking pictures all the way.
The appointment was a simple handing out of our letters and original dossiers, and a quick powwow on who was being picked up, and when. Brett left with a third adopting family, Lance and Karen and their 13 year old son, to lug our bags back across the street before the rental office closed, to stow in their apartment for a few more hours (now I know why they call it lug-gage). I walked back with Graham and Luzma – took a bunch more pictures,
and met a pack of homeless furry friends.
We all convened again at the ever-so-faithful Pizatta Hotta, where we met Todd - QUITE the character! Simply put, he had traveled from Canada to find a wife. He told us he spent $200 to have a huge sign made that had his phone number and said, “My name is Todd, I’m from Canada, and I’m looking for a woman who loves Jesus more than she loves herself.” He put it out on the street the same day that the snow storm hit! I had to snicker to myself, as I thought; perhaps God wants you to be single a little while longer, ey?
After dinner, we said goodbye to Graham and Luzma and left with Lance and Karen to hang out at their apartment, where they offered for us to hang out until our ride to the train station came.
8:30 – Drive to the train station
Our driver Stas came right on time, and accompanying him was our regional facilitator, Tanya; a delightful woman, about our age, who will translate for us, and take care of the rest of the legal process to finish up our adoption. We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, but you wouldn’t have known it – when Ukrainians want to get somewhere, they don’t waste any time! We and our ridiculously heavy luggage speed walked our way up two flights of escalator stairs (one broken) and across the entire train station, to the waiting room at the top of the station. We waited for about 45 minutes, and then back down we went! By now, the second escalator had stopped, but thankfully, we found an elevator; and prayed that it wouldn’t quit too! As we hauled our 6 weeks’ worth of luggage and orphanage gifts down the narrow hall to our cabin, I became very glad that we had opted for the overnight train to Kharkov. Sleeping on the equivalent of a padded park bench made for a pretty restless night, but it did the job.
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