The Day We Met Vanya and Valya

Vanya and Valya. Boy and girl. Those are their nicknames. We first met them on the morning of July 5th. Here’s an excerpt from our journal of that day:

We were waiting in the meeting room, the same one that we spent 5 hours in the day before waiting to meet the Director of the orphanage.. This time things happened much quicker. We were sitting preparing ourselves for an extended wait like yesterday when we heard some footsteps. But they weren’t like the footsteps from yesterday: plop, plop, plop. Instead they were quick little footsteps: plup, plup, plup, plup, plup.

And in came walking a little girl with big brown eyes, wide and scared. She had never been in that room. She had never seen these strangers. She was completely out of her element. But the deputy director brought her in and she stood before us, bewildered and shy. Her wide eyes soon looked down and away. She was just doing her best to hide herself away from all this. It was too much for her. She didn’t want to look at these strangers. She didn’t even have her regular caregivers around. It was much too much. One of the strangers, a woman with auburn hair (who someday she would know as “Mama”) went to her and asked if she was sleepy. She was. It was her nap time after all. The woman said some strange words and picked her up and tried to cradle her. But the little girl began to cry. She hid her eyes as she cried. She didn’t like all this strangeness. She didn’t know that it was a very difficult and scary step in a new chapter in her life. But things did get a bit better. First of all at about that time a boy came in. That boy’s face was familiar...it was her brother after all. She stopped crying and watched him.

As Valya was being introduced and was upset, a home care worker brought down a little blond boy. Actually, he wasn’t that little for his age. He was quite tall. They brought him down and escorted him toward the office and then towards another hall, he was just following the workers. Finally (as is the protocol) the deputy director brought him forward and introduced him to us. He was instructed to hug us both and he did. He was trained to follow instructions. He behaved beyond his years. After all, in many ways, he was on his own in this orphanage and had been on his own a lot before that.

Then he looked at his sister and was a bit bewildered himself, perhaps because these two strangers were making her cry. Then another woman (our facilitator) that was with the English speaking couple started talking and asking a few questions in Russian. He answered quietly but not overly shyly. Then we went into a second room with a table. The tall man brought out some puzzles and the boy eagerly went at them. He ended up doing the hardest one first and he was extremely quick completing it. He worked on puzzles lots with this group, competing how fast they could be done. He must have been one of the fastest. Before we knew it, he was done three more puzzles.

Meanwhile sister Valya was in the other room. She was still confused but had settled down some. And they had out a little soccer ball. She watched the boy and the tall man kick the ball around. Boy oh boy that ball was intriguing. After all, she knew that game from playing it many times with her friends and caregivers outside. She even smiled and chased it herself. And Vanya was having fun with the ball passing it back and forth with the tall guy. But pretty soon it was time to go and we got some hugs and away they went.
We left the orphanage around noon and went back to the apartment. We are not ashamed to say we both cried at the apartment and later that day. Seeing those two wonderful children, hearing about how they came to the orphanage, seeing their lives now, and knowing how we might change their lives. It was completely and utterly overwhelming.

It has been 3 weeks since we wrote the words above. Vanya now acts much more like a 7 year old. Valya cries when we end our visits and pass her back to the caregivers. Now it feels like we are the ones handing them over to the strangers. Three days from know we will be very happy not to have to do that anymore.

This Morning: We Fly Home with the Kids! (Well, sort of…)

It’s Thursday afternoon. The thermometer indicates its 37C in the shade and the air has a sickly sweet smell of smoke from the steel factory that makes your eyes sting. So we are staying in the a/c apartment between our morning and afternoon visits with the kids.

So, whaddya want to know about the kids? Well, there will be no pictures until the weekend, but lets give them initials: E.V.R.L. (the seven year old boy) and V.A.M.L. (the two year old girl). Lets start with a posting that talks about what happened at our visit this morning.

Our morning visit began at 9:30 when we ask the receptionist to see the kids. A few minutes later EVR came bounding down the hallway and gives both of us a hug. A minute or two later, VAM came down the hall with her care giver, her short foot steps echoing “plop, plop, plop” on the lino. This morning our hour and a half visit started with going outside on the orphanage grounds. EVR and Murray brought out the soccer ball as usual and played for a half hour or so. We played on a small soccer “pitch” about half the size of a hockey rink. (I call it that not as usual reference to a true soccer pitch but because it is slanted down a bit of a hill). For a seven year old, EVR has pretty darn good hand-eye coordination and can drop-kick a soccer ball with the best of them. Meanwhile, VAM and mama went for a walk around the grounds and played a bit of soccer with their own small ball. Mama also tried blowing bubbles but VAM was a bit wary of that whole scene.

Then it was snack time. We all sat outside on a bench. VAM wolfed down her banana in no time flat and had juice from a cup. (BTW: If anyone has any tips on how to get a two year old to suck with a straw we’d be much obliged.). EVR had his banana, juice box and a yogurt. Both of the kids sure enjoy the snacks that Mama prepares.

Then we headed back inside the orphanage and gathered around a table where we played with large lego-style blocks. VAM likes to dump them out, pull them apart and put them back in the bag. After a while, she shifted over to her tea set, to bring stuff out of the bag and stack it. Based on what I have seen, I am confident I can have her cleaning out the dishwasher by September…

For EVR, this was his first go with the blocks as we usually have him working with Mama on numbers and ABC’s while VAM played with these blocks. So, EVR’s first project was going to work building a plane and telling us about his trip to Kyiv a couple of weeks ago with Mama to see the doctor. Then he built a bus that transfers passengers from the airport to the plane. And then we built an airport terminal. Yesterday, we brought in a small globe and explained to EVR how we would fly back home through Kyiv and Toronto. So today we decided to do the whole trip in his own plane around the room, with a flight from Kyiv to Toronto, a switch of planes at the airport, and then the flight to Saskatoon. He understands quite well that there will be a big distance between Ukraine and his new home in Canada. Then Papa’s (or “Pops” as I now tend to be referred) “machina” or car (which used to be the airport bus) drove us home and right into our garage (which used to be the airport) that EVR had seen in the pictures of our house. We can only hope it will be that easy when we actually do make the trip!

The entire time EVR was flying us all home, VAM was watching and taking in the whole trip in her own way. She sure likes to watch her brother. Other than their visits with us, our children have little chance to interact with each other because they are kept in separate groups at the orphanage depending on their ages. Actually, we are quite fortunate that they are in the same orphanage and we can have our visits with them together. In Ukraine, orphanages are usually set up separately for infants to 3 yrs old, then another for 3-7, and then another for 7 yrs +. The orphanage where our children are at includes all children from infants to 16 years old. Many of the older children are currently away at summer camp, so it is quiet here except for the infants and toddlers. In fact, when we first arrived, the orphanage staff had to pull EVR out of camp to see us. At first he thought he was being taken back to the orphanage because he had done something wrong, and protested having to leave the camp. However, when he learned that mama and papa were there to meet him, he was happy to return. And since then, he’s made no objection about being back at the orphanage.

Back in Mariupol

Well, after six days away from the kids we've come to realized that this whole parenting thing is something we most surely definitely absolutely overwhelmingly withoutadoubt want in our life.

We were back to see the kids today and boy oh boy is was great to see them again. Our boy (or at least soon to be boy) ran down the hall to hug us when he saw us. Our girl was a bit under the weather with a cold, but she cried when Donna had to give her back to the caregivers.

Stay tuned over the next couple of days and we'll tell you a little bit about what they are like. Maybe you'll even see some pics by the weekend....

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!!