Papa's Perspectives on the Journey

I’m FINE, really….
Just poppin’ in to insure the curious I really came w/family to berdyansk.
Oh, the memories of this place! Soo different from the deep freeze of winter.
I’m thinking of weaving through the daily notes to offer my own observations, highlighting snippets of the days we experienced.
First off- WHO IN THEIR WISDOM PUT THE DRUNK DIRECTLY BEHIND US IN THAT 11HR. PLANE RIDE TO KIEV? I barely tolerated his breath,(which smelled like we were sitting next to spilt diesel). I finally blew when he reached over the seats & grabbed both of our hair. Now I know why the windows don’t have cranks on them, he would have discovered what “open air coach” means to me….
You have to make snap decisions once you’re on the ground in this adoption adventure. You’ll be shopping for a temporary apt. while you wait for your appointment with the S.D.A. Victor our guide will lead us thru this process & has already selected a few for us to tour. We accept the first one.
You unload all your belongings into the apartment & unpack-sort of. We’ll be leaving soon after our S.D.A. appointment, therefore most everything stay’s where it is. We haven’t had much to eat so it’s off to a place we remember from before.
This is the real game-no practice runs anymore. You should now have your money belt on, your passport in another secure place, your wallet in another secure place, your Russian cell phone w/all the important people in it along w/emergency numbers (U.S. Embassy, etc.). Where is the code to enter the entrance door to your apartment? Do you have the keys for the place? Do you remember how to get back to it? Where do you buy groceries, snacks, drinks, & yes, that dreaded stink of a food called dried fish?
This is also where you learn fast you pay for everything. Fran has planned out a schedule of places & events w/ estimated budget in mind. She is wonderfully adept @ visualizing. Still can’t figure out why she married me….
This is soo different from the deep freeze of winter. Spring is here, it’s warm & people are everywhere. Fast pace, fancy cars, & fashion. A young woman clutching her infant approaches the tourist wearing white socks, shorts that show off skinny leper looking white legs (it’s me) & begs for money. She looks beat, & her face reveals long bouts of struggle. Her child fusses as I reach in my pocket. This is no time to pull out your wallet, & I hand her some coins. Yana approaches me w/her voice cracking, “Pop, I have some money you gave me to spend. Can I please give her this $10.00, please?” She saw something in her personal past that moved her w/compassion. May GOD touch her & her child.
The S.D.A. appointment, overnight train ride, the busch garden like taxi drive to berdyansk, apartment shopping, then our appointment w/Koyla is a whirl. The poor kid is so wound up tight w/emotion he’s sweaty & starts to hyperventilate. He doesn’t hug Yana-he embraces her, never looking directly@ her eyes.
Koyla does what he is told. He does not initiate at all. He never looks up, but focuses on the ground or off to the side. Kids that make it here don’t talk much about how they arrived. I try not to imagine the road he traveled to arrive here.
Soon we’re outside sharing a soccer game w/a gym class. Yana drifts off w/old friends, Victor chases endless paperwork, the inspectors are delivered back to their offices, & Fran & I are alone w/Koyla.
This is SO different from our last adoption. Quiet does not describe Koyla. Silent w/o looking @ you gets closer.
I recognize many of these kids. There is 1 girl, perhaps 11yrs., on top of the worn out slide fascinated by a feather tied w/cassette tape to a stick. The feather floats effortlessly w/grace & poise in the smallest of breezes. She is the one who snuggled into Fran’s lap that winter of 07/08 & in broken English begged, “I want a momma & papa”. She is darling, her eyes & smile perfectly expressing childhood innocence. I too become lost in the feathers flight. Our last experience w/adoption suddenly races to the forefront . The introduction to the girls, the smiles, laughter, balloon chasing, raw fish, wrestling, tears-many tears. Our eyes meet each other’s, she smiles as if she remembers, then continues to entertain herself loitering close by.
Fran uses our laptop to show Koyla pictures, but it’s difficult in the bright sun. We move to find shade. I look around to find my feather friend has gone.
We’ll have many more visits w/Koyla. Tomorrow is a brand new day.
Wednesday is a pleasure. Koyla is so innocent-like. He wants to come boldly forward, but this is overwhelming to him. Yana reconnects w/friends. She has come back to what she knew as her security, this time bringing her new security w/her.
Thursday is more time w/Koyla. He seems best to handle short amounts of time, 2-3hrs.This allows him time to absorb.
Friday is odd. It’s their graduation/step-up day. School graduation includes dress-up parades, music & pomp. The outdoor mall square/strip is active all day.
A word about Ukraine. 80years of communism has left it’s mark (scars) on the people. Without God, beauty is defined as how daring you can expose yourself. These women are daring. It filters down to the kids. So I’m looking @ a high school graduating class where the boys are marching with cigarettes & open beers, & the girls have outfits that somehow resemble a blend of a traditional Ukrainian molly maid outfit & something from Fredericks of Hollywood catalog. Fran suggests I take pictures of the event. “No way” is my reply. “The last thing I want happen is for me to try to enter the U.S. w/ a 16 yr.old I’m claiming is my daughter and a bunch of photos of underage girls wearing their underwear on the outside”….
Yana is allowed to bring 3 of her close friends here for a overnight. They range between 15-17 years old.
These kids are precious. They are bubbly, chatty young ladies. They’re clean cut kids, & they are pro @ making the most of a moment. A little clowning around goes a long way here.
Yana is kissing her pop @ every opportunity. She has her friends & her security both in the same place tonight. I am still in awe of the position a daughter places for her father, & the longing a girl has to have one. I sense there will be serious snacking going on. I place the stinky dried fish on the dining table, then open the 4th story window. “If they don’t finish this !#!?# perhaps I’ll get lucky & a seagull will”…
Blessings,
Papa