Searching for "Our Other Family"

Our whole trip up to this point has been about searching and finding our own little family of four….well, six actually if you count the cats. But of course one of the reasons we chose to adopt from Ukraine, and Donna remained stubbornly and angelically persistent, was her roots in Ukraine. As we planned the trip, we hoped we’d be able to dig up some of those roots as well as planting the seeds for our own family.

Donna’s family comes from the Horodenka Region of Western Ukraine. While we thought we might end up in Western Ukraine for the adoption process, God had pointed us to the Southeast to find our two angels . So, as explained in our previous posting, we felt the best time to search for our “other family” was during the ten day court waiting period. And what a search it was! Here is Donna’s story in her own words:

We got up at 6 a.m. in Chernivtsi with the plan of traveling through the Horodenka region and ending up in Kolomeya to spend the night. We asked the hotel reception to make arrangements for a taxi for the day, for about $60 plus gas. We drove for about an hour north of Chernivtsi to the village of Zalishyky (a.k.a. “Zaleschukew”), my name sake. The village had its own logo with a unicorn, or as Murray put it, a mule with a pointy nose signifying the stubbornness of the Zaleschuks. It appeared to be a small village and with a market and a mix of catholic and orthodox churches.

It was Saturday morning and there was a market going on in the centre of town, mostly produce and we even heard piglets squealing. We walked through a large cemetery and recognized similar family names from home----Danyluk, Yakimchuk, Trach, Pankiw, Balan. But no names like Zaleschuk.

Then it was onto to reunite with my Aunt Parasaka who I last saw 21 hears ago when I was on a student exchange at the University in Chernivtsi. I had not contacted them beforehand or made any arrangements, so other than some vague memories, we where searching blind. As we drove towards Horodenka we passed large fields of wheat, durum, corn and sunflower along the way. The country looked a little like the drive between Aberdeen and Wakaw. (The road was paved but we certainly won’t complain about SK highways anymore after traveling on the bumpy roads of Ukraine.)

The first village we stopped at was Cherniatyn, and the cab driver told me to check with the local post office for names. I spoke with the post mistress, who was wearing a scarf and had lots of gold capped teeth. I said I was from Canada, and looking for family by the name of Nykiforuk. She and I could converse easily in Ukrainian, and she could understand me. It was almost like talking to anyone of the older ladies from church. As it turns out the post mistress’s mother was a Zaleschuk. She said there were many Zaleschuks living in Cherniatyn. Most of the Zaleschuks were from around that area, not Zalishyky. She directed us to the next village to search for Paraska. Again we stopped at the post office and this time there was a line up of people, all women and a couple of young girls. As soon as we walked in we were greeted with curious looks. When I spoke, there was a flash of gold teeth again. This time, some crazy old baba grabbed my hand and kissed my cheek. I was confused, thinking she might be one of Paraska’s sisters who remembered me. She was babbling on about us coming from Canada and being so happy to see me. People were giving her funny looks, and I got her to let go of my hand. This time, the local post mistress thought there might be Nykiforuk’s living in the next village.

We went back to the taxi, and the crazy baba followed us because she wanted money. I was starting to give up hope of ever finding the village where Paraska lived. I was sure it was this one, as the church looked so familiar. We drove a couple kilometers down the road, then turned left onto a bumpy gravel road. This village was smaller than the other two. A young woman at the community centre did not know about Paraska. We stopped and asked a baba and she pointed us to a nearby street, saying it was the fourth house. We stopped there, but no one was home. I continued to walk further down the road, and low-and-behold I recognized Paraska’s house. As I came near, an older man came round from the back, and I did my usual spiel, saying I was from Canada looking for Paraska Nykiforuk. Does she live here? He said yes! Then he called into the house and wouldn’t you know it Paraska came out! We finally found her!
Turns out the man was Petro, Paraska’s son and he already knew we were coming. It’s like the old saying, “baba babyci skazala”(i.e. the Ukey baba phone tree) as Petro was just getting off the phone with someone had already called him to say some Canadians were looking for their house. Paraska is 82 now but looked the same as she did 21 years ago, except for quivering hands. Petro said he recognized me from previous photos, while Paraska did not. We hugged and I cried.

We went into the ‘valeika hata’ or large room of the house, which is now the living room. The inside of the house has since been painted and fixed up from the last time I was there. I showed photos from home but Paraska could not see all that well. They took us on a tour of house and yard. There is now running water and a modern bath in the summer kitchen, although the toilet is still outside. There is a large garden with bee hives for honey. They give most of the honey away to family and friends. There’s ducks in the barn, two large pigs, and some chicks, and a dog. Apparently the dog only barks at the neighbours, and not when ‘hosti’ or guests arrive. Petro’s wife was busy getting lunch. Yes, we had to be fed, no questions asked. We sat down with the family of six. Lunch started with shots of vodka, then sausage, bacon, verenyky, holubtsi and tomatoes. Murray tried some of Petro’s samahonka (home brew). The time was short as we were there less than 2 hours. They invited us to stay the night, and in hindsight I think we should have. This is another lesson in our journey for us of the importance of spending time with family.

Our driving tour ended in Kolomiya where we stayed at “On the Corner” B&B, a snazzy little place recommended by Lonely Planet (and us!) with a very welcoming and helpful family. Kolymiya is known for its craft and the town is quiet and peaceful and near the Karpaty mountains with plenty of clean, fresh air. We didn’t have time to get to the mountains, but we have vowed someday to bring the kids back here and to Horodenka.

An eight hour bus ride on Ukraine’s secondary highways is not recommended for the faint of stomach. But that is what we faced as we started heading back east, first to Vinnitsya to meet up with friends. At one point on the trip, we were caught behind a funeral procession for half an hour. The bus could not pass the people walking on the street behind a half-ton truck where the body lay. I’d like to see that happen in Kyiv! Vinnitsya was a small city that kind of reminded us of Saskatoon. It was a nice visit but we were aching to get back to Mariupol, via a flight from Kyiv. So, tonight as we write this blog posting, we are flying back into Eastern Ukraine to Mariupol, eager to reunite with the kids, officially become parents in less then a week, and never leave them again.

Enough of this traveling stuff. We want to be parents!!