Day 6

It was not too hard to get out of bed at 7, since we were going to be doing a lot today. The fridge in our room was like the one in our apartment: it wanted to run more than it wanted to rest. So we unplugged it. In first light, the view from our room has a beautiful smoke stack. We had breakfast with Olga in the hotel restaurant, The Eldorado. The restaurant was dark when we came in, and the server decided we wanted the TV on, loud. Thanks, guy. We haven't been in a restaurant yet that didn't have a TV on and attached to a wall or the ceiling. Even in McDonalds. The meal was good. It was part of our hotel bill, so of course it was. I'm enjoying tring new foods. The french fries were some of the best I've ever had. Olga told me my dish came with a hot dog and, well, that's what it was. It was more compact but tasted much the same as a high quality hot dog (whatever that might be).

We walked down the street to the town square, where there is an imposing statue of Lenin. We went into the official building, up several flights of stairs to the adoption department. Behind a heavy metal door were two women, typing away, answering phones. We sat down on chairs, and proceded to wait for 20 minutes while listening to loud driving techno, some in English ("I am a spitfire"). Which reminds me, it was good to hear No Doubt and George Michael on the radio in the cars, even some techno that my boys had given me ("I feel so far away ... Just go away"). I proceded to sweat buckets. It was warm in the office.

After our wait, we were handed our referral for the orphanage director. The two ladies walked out of the office with us, and locked the big metal door. That office could serve as a solitary confinement cell. Then we walked across the square to where the taxis were waiting. I took this chance to get some more local currency. The rate is quite variable. It started at 8.10, then it dropped to 7.70. Deciding when to exchange currency is like playing the market.

Our new taxi driver drove us to the internot, which is a step up from a true orphanage, in that there is a school here. We were led into the director's office. Both the director and the assistant were very happy to see us, and they knew who we were. The assistant went to get Nastiya. It turns out that Sasha was not around, she has been in the hospital for 2 weeks, something wrong with her kidneys, they say. The director pulled out a book of photos that Nastiya put together before she left. I'm not sure why he had it, maybe in preparation for our visit, maybe to keep it safe for Nastiya. Nastiya walked in, and gave me a big hug. Then she gave Eileen a big hug. Then she sat of Eileen's lap, and we talked for a long time. I finally got her to sit on my lap. All of this was good, because it showed that Nastiya is familiar with us and not afraid. Nastiya's hair was so short, and she had no earrings. She looks so much like a skinny boy.

We got the director to call the hospital, and he said Sasha would be checked out of the hospital tomorrow. So we have to wait to see Sasha. Both of the girls will be given a physical exam, which is one of the documents we need before we can take them. It seems like we heard that Sasha and Nastiya turned down adoption requests from other families. They were waiting for us. Doesn't that tug at your heart strings? The third girl we wanted, Vika, is in the process of being adopted by another family, and they are actuall in the same hotel as us. This couple wanted 3 girls, and they tried to get Sasha and Nastiya. What loyalty from our girls. After a lot of hugging and kissing and tickling, we had to say goodbye to Nastiya, and go see older sister Tanya.

Our taxi driver drove us out to where Tanya is enrolled in a trade school. She has some legal rights over the two girls, so we had to make a good impression. The road to the trade school, wow. It was paved at some point in history, but there were a lot of holes, a lot of ice, and several lakes between us and our destination. At the trade school, we were shown to the director's office, where we waited outside for a few minutes. Then Tanya came out. We answered some of her questions, showed her pictures of Sasha and Nastiya. Then came some words out of my wife's mouth that I could not believe. She said something like, "We were hoping to adopt 3 girls, would you like to come to America?" Tanya did not say what I expected: "Oh no, I have boyfriend, I have job, I love Ukraine." She thought about the offer.

The director of the trade school popped out of the office and invited us in. We sat down around a table, with the director at her own table. Lots of questions from Tanya. Will I be able to keep in contact? Are you a dentist and is your wife a hair dresser? Do you live in Dallas? (Sasha and Nastiya were a bit confused, I think, and communicated some wrong information.) She also told us that they came back very happy, that they got along better after the visit with us. Much good news. Then, how will we keep in touch? Will I be able to visit? How often will I be able to visit? We heard no mention of the boyfriend. By the end of the meeting, we were telling her that we would be willing to adopt her if she wanted to come, and if it was allowed by both the U.S. and Ukraine.

OK, so instead of bringing home 3 girls aged 8, 10, and 11, it looks like I might have 3 sisters aged 8, 11, and 17. That's going to take a while to digest.

Eileen: I was instantly impressed with Tanya. I loved her right away. She greated us warmly, shared her gratitude and retold stories the girls shared with her when they returned last summer. She was respectful and genuine and had no trouble looking us in the eye. I wanted to promise her our help through life, people who would always care for her and make sure she didn't have to resort to prostitution for a living. She was sober about her future. She was concerned for her sisters and wanted to know how she could keep in touch with them. Could she visit? Yes. We could send he a ticket once a year or two. But Tanya, come live with us.
P.S. No NAYSAYING. I don't want to hear about it. Contrary to American foster teens, the teens that come from Ukraine do very well in the US.
Rolan: Tanya wanted to think about it for a day. The social worker will not be available on Friday, and our translator goes back to Kiev for the weekend, so things will be on hold until Monday. What more could happen? We made some calls to the U.S. embassy, and they said that there should be no problem, since Tanya is 17 and is a sister to the other two girls. The girls may all have been born here in Slovyansk, which is very good news, no travelling for birth certificates.

After our visit with Tanya, we walked to the local market, picked up food and water and wine and beer, and went back to the hotel room, where we celebrated and talked with Olga a lot. Her stories are very interesting. We went to a local restaurant "Chinook" for dinner. There was a great stroganoff there. During dinner, Olga found out from Valentina that if we want to adopt Tanya, we must be present in Kiev to petition at the SDA. I feel some shaking and baking coming on.

Plans for tommorow:
_ see Sasha, finally, and Nastiya,
_ get a modem and a plan that allows me to connect to the internet via phone service,
_ talk to Tanya, to see what she wants to do,
_ anything else that comes up that was unplanned.