Ukraine Part One: Kyiv

Kiev, Ukraine is a beautiful place that took me mere minutes to fall in love with. I could have stayed forever. Though crossing the border was a royal pain involving many guards and incredulous people questioning my sanity for entering a war zone for sight seeing reasons, it was well worth the effort. 

This is the Lavra, which is a type of monastery consisting of a cluster of cells or caves for hermits. It was like an underground labyrinth with coffins of dead priests everywhere. We were given scarves for our heads, and candles for light before descending into the dark and narrow tomb, where we immediately became lost. It was brilliant. 

Inside the Lavra, where we most definitely were not supposed to take pictures.

And afterwards??? Yes. There were booths selling honeycomb and beeswax candles right outside of the Lavra. It would seem that they keep bees. Dreams can come true.

This was a memorial we walked through to get to Big Momma. Background music courtesy of Courtney, who is the one recording the video above.

Big Momma. It's pretty much their version of the Statue of Liberty. It was amazing.

Kiev Temple, where we spent Saturday afternoon.

St. Michael. One of many cathedrals visited. 

St. Andrew. This was at the top of a very steep and monstrous hill called St. Andrew's descent that we climbed multiple times a day. The hike was beautiful.

Our traditional flower crowns.

My marvelous friend, Courtney, at our favorite restaurant. Ukrainian food is scrumptious, and the tea is even better. We never dined out without ordering a pot of tea.

We also payed a visit to the Lviv Chocolate Factory and walked the cobblestone streets on market day, but I don't have pictures of these events. In short, Kiev is happiness. 

Crosswalks

100% of the time we need to go somewhere, we are walking. Which is fine, as I enjoy walking quite a bit. But Romania is lacking when it comes to things I am accustomed to. And again, I am fine for the most part. I can live without a dryer, without vegetables at every meal, and without the products and foods from home. I can live without English speaking co-workers, and without tampons. I can even live without my sister here to get my jokes, my references, and to assure me that no, I'm not crazy. Everyone should know who Cary Grant is.

It is very possible, however, that I will not live much longer without crosswalks. We cross a street at least once every five minutes out of the two-three hours we spend walking each day. And there are no crosswalks. Everyone remembers being taught "look both ways before crossing the street"? Yeah, that's not a thing here. You just kind of go for it and hope the cars screech to a stop in enough time. Or swerve around you. It's like this, only without a lucky cricket for protection:

And to think I used to be scared of getting hit in a parking lot...

On a completely unrelated note, here are pictures from our trip to Bucharest:

Rise Up

Rise up and find your courage.
Rise up and trust your heart.

Turn your face toward the foe,
And overcome your inner dark.

Though the path be treacherous,
Though the pain be long,

Set your soul on victory
For fate is with the strong.

Vanquish monsters out for blood,
Defeat the hardships in your way,

Swallow all your worries, doubts,
Never fear, be always brave.

Help will come throughout the journey,
When arms are strong and wits are fast.

Hope, and strength, and confidence,
In heroes from the past.

Here Be Dragons

All I knew about Romania before coming here... 

Yep. That one little sentence. It's a bit different than I had hoped.

I spend Monday - Friday in an orphanage for a few hours in the morning. I work in the non-mobiles section, which is full of kids who are, in some way or another, disabled. Due to some sort of child safety issue, I am not allowed to take pictures, name, or go into much detail about any particular child, so this will be brief. None of the kids in my section can talk and one boy is only a year younger than I am. The majority are in wheelchairs, strollers, or cribs, and they are rarely taken out. There are two little boys, about 4 years old, who have no diagnosis but simply never properly developed. Due to lack of social interaction, they do not speak, and never being allowed on the ground has resulted in their inability to walk.  It is hard work, and they are extremely understaffed. The nurses/workers here are wonderful. They are all beyond exhausted, but they love these kids. That much is very evident. They truly care about the children. But they are stretched thin. With a ratio of  1 caretaker per 15 children, it is all they can do to make sure that they are all changed, fed. and their medical needs are met. There simply aren't enough of them to hold, or talk to, or play with these kids. They can keep them alive, but their mental, emotional, social, and developmental needs are not met. Which is what I do. My biggest focus is getting them out. Letting them move and make noise so that the nurses can focus on what they need to.

What I've been struck with the most, is how happy these kids are. I have seen the biggest smile on a child whose hair I was stroking, heard uncontrollable laughter because I was holding and dancing with a child. Their entire day can be made by one song, or story, and they don't even have the foggiest idea what I am saying. None of them are aware of their situation. They don't know that they are disabled, that they have no family, that they eat nothing but instant potatoes in a bottle, (that would seriously be my breaking point.) They have complete innocence, and the ability to be perfectly happy when shown a little bit of love. It is not a sad place. It is a perfect example of having less and needing less.

Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday I teach English at the Kindergarten. Which is an adventure. It is pretty much an hour and a half of being as ridiculous as possible, but with a purpose. It's brilliant. These particular children are mischievous balls of energy that take immense delight in the fact that I haven't any idea what they are saying. I love it. And I've only made three children cry so far, so it's been pretty positive I'd say.

Tuesday and Friday I walk a couple of miles to the children's hospital, and spend a few hours with the "copii fara mama" ( children without mothers). These are either kids from the orphanage, or kids whose parents can't afford to stay with them. I love this as well. I spent today coloring mermaids with a little girl who has cancer.

I love all of these kids. I love playing, and seeing life through their eyes. I love messing around, and telling stories, and making believe. And this is my life for the next three months.

I have yet to see a dragon.