Coming Clean About Anya

I'm getting so many private emails and messages about Anya, I can't answer them all. I'm so grateful for the concern, but I just can't stomach talking about it too much, and I certainly can't get to all the emails, so I'll fill you in here -- to a degree.

No, Anya does not live with us anymore. Anya left a week and a half ago and never came back. I can't discuss the details, but I will say that all was fine here and it has mostly to do with her complete lack of self-worth and inability to accept the love we have for her.

I did track her down after a few days and tried to convince her to come back, but there is no convincing a scared, stubborn, naive, depressed 19 year old. She was not hearing it. I received a few terrifying emails about her plan to kill herself and, believe me, I did everything in my power to help her. But in the end, I realized that right now I need to let go. Anya needs more time to adjust to these abrupt changes in her life.It is terrifying her.  Having a sister and mom love you from afar is one thing. Having them send you money and call you is not too scary. But to live with them and have them care about you? That's too much.

I get it.

The hard thing is trying to help Nastia get it. She has been a lost soul in the apartment since Anya left. Her grief is palpable. And as a mom, it is horrible to watch and know there is not much I can do to recieve it. We talk and cry and pray. That's all we can do for now.

Anya has ignored our calls and emails. She has blocked me from Russian facebook. She is, for all intents and purposes, in hiding. She's also making some terrible choices and there is nothing I can do but look on in horror and be here when she decides to return.

Anyway, I'm letting you all know so that the pressure is off from me to respond to family, friends and caring strangers about Anya's current well-being. There is none. There is 'ill-being". And there is me asking you to hold her up in light and send a blanket of love to protect her. Consider yourselves informed and have understanding about my inability to say much more about it right now.

Hey! Yes, You! READ THIS.

So many lessons being learned, it is hard to keep track of them all. It reminds me of being back in college -- but minus the good friends and beautiful surroundings. I guess this is more like spiritual bootcamp for me.

As painful and difficult as this journey is, I so wish that everyone in the world could have such an experience. Life-changing just doesn't seem to come close to describing it. Soul- changing, I guess, is more like it. It feels like every unimportant and inconsequential thing in my brain and heart is being burned away. Before I came this time, of course I had a heart for these kids and their suffering. But I still was thoughtless about my connection to it. The mindless dollars I spent on that extra cup of Starbucks coffee or that special brand of shampoo -- those dollars mean something here. I thought i knew that before, but now I see it in action and my heart breaks for all the wasted money that goes out into the world from our pockets for things that do not matter. People matter. Their suffering matters. 

And we have the power to alleviate it.

I don't care if you are a Christian, a Jew, a Muslim, a Buddhist, or a Whirling Dervish -- all our religions call us to relieve the suffering of others. No, they don't call -- they demand! And if your religion didnt demand it, your heart should! How can we possibly not do it? My guess:  ignorance. If people could just see these kids, and feel their pain, most would do something. And that is why I am here I think. God is using my weakness (my outspoken-ness and anger) to get the word out. He knows, if nothing else, I  know how to rage and rant and He knows that I don't shut up when I'm angry.

Guess what? I'm angry. I'm angry that the world doesn't stop in it's tracks for these kids. I'm angry that so many people sit on the fence. So many good people! I have friends right now whom I know read my blog and have not responded or sent a dime, and yet I know they are good people. What makes them stay silent? What makes them so numb as to not respond to this travesty?

I truly believe in my heart of hearts that one day we will stand before something, someone greater than ourselves who will ask that same question of us. Why? I told you about them.  Why did you not help them?  I want to stand ready with an answer. I want to say that I spent everything I had helping these children.

Here they are -- beautiful souls like your own children -- and they are stuck in this place. They have nothing but what you send them. They have no one but the revolving caretakers who do their best to love them. Don't be a voyeur. What an ugly word that is. Instead, move. Move your indifference, move your complacency, move move move your body and mind and heart to do something. The reward is beyond your wildest imaginings.

"Keri, please find me a mama and papa"

Back from the orphanage. So much to share.

But I'll start with just some photos. They speak better than I could ever....

Little Ones with their new toys

I love her.

Just brought to the orphanage due to violence in the home. Notice his face

"Keri, take a picture of my toy!"

Fish Soup, bread and compote for lunch. Honestly Yummy!

Help me find them families. They deserve no less.

Orphange Trip Three: Countdown

Early Friday morning, Nastia and I leave for our third trip to the orphanage. I had already packed up most of the bags when Nastia reminded me that I wanted to post photos on my blog of all the 'goodies'. So, thanks to Nastia's quick thinking, here is a photo of one third of the goods before they got packed up!

I think those of you who donated would be VERY proud of me! It took me three weeks to amass these piles, because I was a bargain hunter! See those stuffed animals? I hunted down the cheapest ones I could find in Kemerovo that were also well-made. I am happy to announce I paid no more than 200 rubles tops for each one! (That's about $6). The little ones at the orphanage (kids under 6) had requested  'something soft to hold at night.' That is a request impossible NOT to fulfill -- am I right?

I've been very lucky with books. I bought a second entire set of the whole Harry Potter series, as there was huge interest in that. I also scrounged around enough in the few local bookstores to find: Charlotte's Web,  Huckleberry Finn, Pippi Longstocking,  Hardy boys, Boxcar Children, Indiana Jones books, Little Women, Shakespeare (of course), books of poetry, some graphic novels, Spiderman comic books, lots of fairy-tales, two atlases, a child's introduction to how the human body works, and countless board books for the little ones.

As I have a repeat donor who requests I buy DVDs, I bought: Peter Pan, Finding Nemo, Night at the Museum, Winnie the Pooh, Alice in Wonderland (old version), and a dozen Russian made fairy-tale films that are exquisite!

Also got two sets of checkers, chess, cards, Monopoly, Candyland, Russian "Battleship", and other board games to keep their minds occupied. There is a babydoll at little Polina's request . (I would buy her the world if she asked...) And 'a big girl doll with hair' at Veronika's request. ( The barbies I brought in early September just didn't suit her...lol)

Also, Nastia and I went through all our clothes and are donating everything we have not yet worn. We figured that if we have been here over six weeks and have not yet worn it, we don't need it. We ended up with an entire suitcase of shirts, socks, pants, shoes and such! 

Finally, we are bringing twelve pairs of winter boots -- six for girls and six for boys -- in sizes 34-39. As Nadezhda the director put it when I asked her what sizes to buy...' Keri, if you buy it, not matter the size, there will be a leg to put in it here!'

Lastly, I bought (with my own funds) a winter coat and new sneakers for Daniel. Nastia bought him a battery operated truck. I didn't want to go overboard, because I am sure there is already alot of jealousy in the air since word is out I have started  the adoption process for him. I have no doubt that many of the kids will be  "mom shopping" when I get there Friday. ( 'parent shopping' or 'mom shopping' is a term used in the adoption community. It is when I child tried to win you over with their charm, in hopes that you will want them. It's very sad, but very, very common.)

I'm also bringing them over 100 photos that I took on my last two visits to them in Sept and Oct. I made sure to make triple copies: one set for the director, one set for the caretakers to share, and one for me to give out to the children.

I wish it were Friday right now....

Confession

I miss Dasha. I miss her so much it hurts physically. I have not blogged about it, or even talked about it to anyone but Nastia and my mom ( who feel the same way, by the way) but right now, I am aching for her and wishing so so so so so much she could host with us again this Christmas. If even to just give her closure.

To respect those involved, I can't say why Dasha will likely not come to the US this Christmas, but I can say I have always  and will always, for every day of my life , pray for her well-being and happiness.

I LOVE THIS GIRL. I LOVE HER TRULY, MADLY, DEEPLY... and that is all you will hear from me about her unless she comes to us again. I'm grateful for prayers. We've been hurting about this since she left us, but as Christmas gets closer, the pain gets sharper. There is a slight chance she will be with us, but it will take prayers. Someone needs to come to the understanding that it would be better for her to be with us this Christmas than stay at the orphanage. That's all I can say.

Pray, will you? Thanks.

My Siberian Students...and Some Spookiness!

Here they are! ( well, most of them...) 

I could not have asked for a more motivated and focused group of students. They rock! Today we played alot of 'get to know you' games and did some preliminary planning for our  December show. To say they are excited is an understatement of epic proportions. We worked for two hours. They wanted more. When I asked what days and hours I should come, they said " Every day, all day!" We really had a blast.

Some are more outgoing than others, but all of them are incredibly intelligent, gracious, well-spoken and motivated. After class, about ten of them walked me to my bus stop! Can't wait for tomorrow...casting begins!

On a completely different note...things have gotten a bit spooky at 2 Vessenya Street, For the past week when we wake up in the morning, there are 4-7  cigarettes lined up at our front stoop.

There is no way for anyone to enter our building but the ten families that live here. We have a code and special magnet to get in. So it is someone in the building. Yesterday I got really angry about it, and I yelled in the hallway in Russian " WHOMEVER IS LEAVING CIGARETTES ON MY DOORSTEP...STOP!!!" I was loud. Then we finally ran into one neighbor and asked her if she were doing it. It was obvious she had no idea what we were talking about. but she did say that the tenants in our apt before us were chain smokers who littered the hallway with butts. " Maybe someone in the building thinks the old tenants still live here.." She said. That actually put me at ease. Someone smokes in our hallways every day and leaves a mess. Guess another tenant thinks its us. I'm posting a note on our door tonight to correct them. " WE DO NOT SMOKE." Hope it works...

Gross.

My First Siberian Students

Just back from my first day of teaching at Kemerovo Academy #21. I decided today would just be one long 'question and answer' session. I knew they'd have alot of questions about America and American culture, and wanted to get those out of the way before we dive into Shakespeare tomorrow.


I had three classes. All the students spoke English, with varying degrees of aptitude. What I loved was their enthusiasm for learning, their curiosity and passion and their willingness to engage in conversation with me about the differences and similarities of America and Russia. There were 22-24 students in each class, all aged 15 and 16. They were more well-read than most of my students in America! They wanted me to discuss books  and authors -- did I like Salinger better than Hemingway? What authors are most popular among young Americans right now? What Russian authors do American students like best? I had to break the sad news to them that American students do not usually read Russian authors until they are in college. They were dumbfounded at that. " But we read many American authors, and books from all countries of the world." one boy added. I had to agree with them that sometimes Americans are a bit more insular than the rest of the world. Not ALL Americans, of course, but enough.


We talked about stereotypes and I told them I wanted to hear honest feedback about a typical Russian's stereotypes of Americans. I told them nothing could offend me, so to be as honest as possible. Here are the good and bad qualities they say that most people they know equate with Americans:

Too confident
Always smiling
Not well-read
a bit spoiled
Proud of their country ( Patriotic)
Overweight
Very helpful
Like things big - big houses, big cars, big meals
Do things from the heart, caring
Don't know enough about the outside world.

I had to agree with them on several points! But every single one of them hopes to go to America one day. They were fascinated with everything from our food to our clothes to our taste in tv shows. For 99% of them, I was the first American they had ever met. That's alot of pressure to set a good example for our whole country! I did my best.

If I'm honest, they were far more interested in talking to Nastia -- as I expected. But Nastia was so shy, she didn't really talk much until the third class. They wanted to know what are her favorite subjects, what her friends do for fun, what books she liked, if she missed Russia, etc etc.

Some of the girls want to take me out for coffee and one girl, Katya, in particular, wants to be an actress so she is desperate to work with me. They asked if I had ever met any famous Americans, and asked me to name them. When I mentioned Angelina Jolie there was a corporate sigh of awe...lol. " We love her!" they said. Didn't know Angelina Jolie was so popular over here!

They asked about my hometown -- population, how many buses were available, crime rate, number of cars, and other expected questions. When I explained that we lived near the ocean, they looked at me like I were from another planet. " You are so lucky!" one girl sighed.

Tomorrow I start  casting and rehearsing scenes from Shakespeare that we will present in early December. To say I am excited is the understatement of the year. I am SO grateful for this chance to do what I love! Nastia was not too keen on teaching the younger kids. She got overwhelmed and scared, so she stuck with me all day. I can't convince her to come back tomorrow, but I'm hoping she will come after that. I will be teaching there four days a week for two hours at a time. I am also 'on call' to come and give lectures in the other grades on American History, Culture and Literature. Dr. Borgman and Dr Askew of Gordon College -- I hope you're proud!

I will take photos of them tomorrow and post them here. We met the little ones too, and when one girl heard there were Americans in the building she screeched with delight, only to find out I was right next to her...then she turned bright red. So cute!

Ahhh, I feel like me again.....

Photos I Forgot To Post

Here are a few photos of last week's visit to St Pete. Realized I never posted them!

One of the many canals...

View near where we were staying on Nevsky Prospekt. I loved the architecture...

And another...

Street artists everywhere....

Details above the windows at the Hermitage. Nastia took this....

The ceiling in Saint Isaac's Cathedral...

Anya wandering the Hermitage alone...

Nastia said she was imagining Princess Anastasia dancing in this room.

A guide later told us it was a fact!

The Litany of the Spoiled American

At home I might gripe about the grocery store not having my brand of bread,

Here I am grateful to have bread.

At home I'm prone to whine about the brief walk to my car in winter,

Here I am grateful I have a warm coat to help me make the 1/2 mile walk to the grocery store

At home, I was likely to complain if my fruit were bruised,

here I rejoice when I don't find a worm or maggot in it.

At home, I grumbled about the washer and dryer being in the basement instead of upstairs,

here I AM the washer and dryer.

At home, I didn't think twice about buying a starbucks coffee every morning,

here I think twice, three times, four times -- and I spend that money on food for hungry people instead.

At home, I felt sympathy for the animals in the local animal shelters,

Here I rejoice that our adopted strays survived another night of below zero temps outdoors.

At home, I could ignore the needs of others if I wanted to,

Here it is impossible.

At home, I knew all my needs would be met,

Here I wait on God to meet them.

At home, I was considered a selfless, kind person who did for others,

Here I realize I was just one more spoiled American.

One of far too many.

Still Hoping but Pretty Sad

A photographic reminder of why I am here -- sisters who love each other and should not be separated.

Sometimes I hate coming here, to my blog, because I worry I sound like a broken record, and one that is playing a terrible song, at that. Life is so hard here I cannot even express, and I hate saying that because I sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm not. Definitely not.

Annie posted something in the comment section of the last post that speaks to exactly what I'm experiencing here. This journey -- this painful, terrifying, ugly journey in a dark dark place -- is part of what God chose for me to experience. I didn't have to come. I said yes. I said yes to Him.

I got over my embarrassment of writing about my relationship with God here. I had the most visceral, personal experience of God a few years ago, and there is no going back after that. All the sayings I used to think were trite and sentimental (and made me want to throw up, if I'm honest) like "God loves you" and " He hears you." and things like that you always hear from the 'Bible thumpers.'...well, like St Paul, I found to my chagrin, that they are true. God called to me. I don't know why and I certainly don't feel worthy of it, but it is what it is. Like I said -- there's no going back.

Anyway, I can understand that there is a purpose to my being here and also be homesick. I'm human that way...haha. I've hit a wall the past couple days where I can't feel anything but down. I still pray and trust and hope, but I feel burned out and very sad and alone. It doesn't help that we're in a kind of limbo here, and that both girls are sad about different things and also the same things -- they feel caught in limbo too.

Don't worry, in my grief I am still proactive. I went with Svetlana to the top grade school in Kemerovo today. Nastia and I start teaching there on Monday. It is a school where English is taught from the first grade up. I will be teaching a Shakespeare class to the 15 and 16 year olds, and Nastia will be with the first graders. At least it will keep our minds occupied. Sadly, there is nothing for Anya to do there because she not only has no skills, but also has no desire to work. Sad but true. Hopefully I'll talk her into tagging along and watching me teach at least once. The school is really wonderful. I gave a talk there last May. very positive and happy energy there, and  it's not uncommon to see most people smiling. It's a welcome change, AND I get to do what I love. They've asked me to direct some scenes of Shakespeare for an upcoming concert, too. Should be fun. Shakespeare spoken in Russian accents is literally music to my ears. It's like having coffee and chocolate at the same time. It's heavenly.

I'll write more when I can say something positive.

Rough Night, Angry Girl, Tired Mom

Last night was a very rough night. Anya came home over an hour later than I had asked, with Nastia in tow, and she did not take kindly to my reprimand. Raising a teenager is hard. Trying to parent someone who has never had a parent is even harder. Last night's discussion and eventual yelling match turned into today's endless argument. I know, I know Anya has no experience with boundaries being set, curfews and requests for phone numbers and locations of where she'll be. But we are a family now. There are compromises that need to be made, and not just from me.

Nastia feels caught in the middle. She is terrified her sister will take off again. I try to help her understand that setting limits for Anya is part of the journey to helping her become a healthy, happy person. But Nastia is scared -- last night Anya said she was leaving for good.

I could tell she didn't really have the heart to do it. Would you leave a safe home, warm bed, ample food, lots of love unless you were truly forced to? As she stormed out the door, I asked for her coat. You might think that is a horrible thing to do in Siberia. but I knew Anya wanted a reason to come back. I also wanted her to have a vivid reminder that all she has has come from me, her mother who loves her. Her shoes, her coat, her phone, even the remaining kopeks in her pocket come from me. I never ever tell her that, or, God forbid, rub it in her face. But I felt it imperative that she be reminded last night. So when she left, I said "Just make sure you do not take anything that I have provided. Just take what you have bought and earned yourself." She ripped off her coat and threw it at me. (Funny, she didn't remover her socks, shoes, clothing and underwear, but I think she got the idea.)

Nastia cried her heart out on the stairs when Anya left (my poor neighbors). She begged me to do something. I reminded her that Anya has street smarts, if not common sense, and she knows there is a 24 hour cafe around the corner. I also told her that I would bet any amount of money that Anya would be back within 10-15 minutes. Ten minutes almost to the second, the buzzer rang.

The morning I'd hoped would bring an apology and understanding, instead brought more willfulness and rage, and Anya refusing to get out of bed even by noon. After kind requests, I finally pulled the covers off her and said "NOW!" in my best impression of my father. She stomped around the apartment and said she did not want to be a part of this family anymore and went to get dressed. " I'm leaving" she announced ragefully again,  but taking time to put on make-up and heels, though.

"A child runs away. An adult stays and faces the situation." I reminded her, as she teetered on her 6 inch heels and stuffed her pockets with food. I knew this was the only way to stop her in her tracks, because she prides herself on being an adult, though she is the furthest thing from it.

She begrudgingly came back in and sat in the kitchen.

Fitfully, and painfully we tried to maneuver this impasse. I finally called a new wonderful friend on skype, who lives in Russia and has worked with children like Anya over the years. It was not appropriate for Nastia to be the translator in this situation, and the things I wanted to say were beyond my Russian-speaking capabilites. Via skype, and thanks to Christine R, we had a little heart to heart mother-daughter talk. Although Anya acted as if she did not care and was not truly listening, I trusted that hearing how I felt via Christine would help. Above all, I reminded her how much I loved her and how much I wanted the best for her. I asked for her to just take a few steps towards me in return. Christine was a huge help.

Anya retreated to her bed after the conversation. She didn't sleep, but just lay there thinking. I invited her to come be with me and Nastia.  A bold "Nyet" from under the covers was her answer. So I spent some time with a tearful Nastia, who begged me for the umpteenth time to just take her home to the US once and for all.

"It's just not working, mom. She just wants to be like my birthmother. She doesn't care." I told Nastia to just trust and give Anya time, that this process -- like hers -- would be years of work, not days or even months. Years. "We both need to support her, but I also need to set boundaries and hold Anya accountable for her actions. No one has ever done that for her in her life. It sucks, it's hard , and I know it is hard for you to watch. But you need to trust me."

 "I'm just so tired of trying, Mommy...please....I just want to go home..." When Nastia uses the word 'mommy', I know she is in need of help. She was overwhelmed, anxious and heading for a meltdown, so I decided to take both girls out for a walk, but Anya refused. Nastia and I then bundled up, headed for the door and at the last minute, I pausted and asked Anya if she would like me to bring her back something to eat. Silence, then...

 'Da, pazhousta.'

As we closed & locked the door and headed down the stairs, Anya called out to me. 'Mama?'

'Yes?' I asked behind our colossal closed door.

'Love you.'

Ahh, progress. Microscopic progress, but progress nonetheless. I'll take what I can get.

Lend Me Some Hope, Will You?

Today Anya asked me what I will do if she cannot come home with us in a few months. I had no answer for her. No matter what the plan, I do have to go home for a January job, and also because my visa runs out then. I told her if we cannot bring her home, we will be back. but I also wonder -- how will I afford it? How will I make it work long-term?

As you can imagine, this trip has put me in debt like nothing else in my life besides college. Every time we go to the grocery store here, I cringe at the rubles being literally eaten up. I try my best to keep the girls occupied with things that don't cost anything. And we walk everywhere. NO buses or taxis for us! ( except to the orphanage of course..) We are very happy despite the limited funds, but even these funds will run out at some point. How do I make it all work?

Tonight the doubt crept in. I've been living solely on faith so far, concerning our future. Today I let my mind ponder, and it doesn't feel good. All the ideas people keep sending me for Anya, we have already tried. I'm so grateful to all of you who write us with ideas, but as you can imagine, in five years' time we have just about exhausted every avenue.

There are things we are working on behind the scenes that can't be talked about, but trust me when I say EVERY day we are on pins and needles hoping for an answer. I worry about even the few short months I will have to go home that Anya will be here alone. People don't understand. It's not like leaving her behind in the US. She has no home, but also there are no homeless shelters to go to. She has no family, but also no agencies or NGOs or anyone to help her manage her days. She has no money...I send her some each month, but no one is there to tell her how to spend it. Remember, this is a girl who lived alone, on her own, for most of her life.. She has NO life skills, and that has become even more evident while we are here.

Even the orphanage she was at confesses that she barely scraped by the few years of schooling she got there. There is no place for her here. She cannot work -- no one will give her a job. She cannot rent an apartment -- no one will rent to her. She has nothing. Nothing.

Anya needs a mother by her side. She never had one. She needs one now, despite the fact that she is 19. She acts more like a pre-teen and has the education of a 9 year old. Would you  leave your nine year old to fend for herself? No. That's where I am at with Anya.

When I pray, I only get the message to be patient. I just wish the message would change. I've been patient for five years and it is getting harder these days. I worry about what kind of work I will do if I move overseas ( I LOVE my work at home.) I worry about what kind of services I can get for Anya over here. ( She is in desperate need of therapy.)

Well, there is my vent of the week. Do with it what you will. I'll be back in top form in another day or two. It's just so hard to hope in a place where hope is such a rare commodity. I'm trying. I really am.

Anya and me, at the Hermitage.

Sacrifice is a Gift!

Love makes the world go 'round. Might sound trite, might sound cliche, but it is also true.

Being away from home is hard. Being away from my work is even harder, if you can believe it. But being here and loving Anya in the most active and visceral way possible is worth a hundred years of homesickness, a thousand years of not doing the work I love.

If we do not step out of our tiny, self-created comfort zones, if we do not embrace unknowing and just trust the journey, we will never know the depths of love we are capable of. I thought I had a great life -- I loved my daughter, my home, my work, my community, my friends. None of it compares to giving it all up for another human being. Truly.

I'm no martyr. I'm no  Mother Teresa, believe me. I am the furthest thing from selflessness, and yet I crave God like I crave water on a hot day. I know the only way to Him, for me, is through sacrifice. I draw closer to him in my need, and in my loneliness. What could be more important?

I've tried a life a leisure. A life of pleasure. A life of amassing material objects. I've tried a life of pursuing knowledge. I've most recently tried a life of pursuing simple happiness. nothing compares.

Nothing.

And this is why I believe in Christ. He is a man after my own heart. He went right to it. He embraced dying so others could live. I never understood the joy in that. I thought I understood why He did it, but now I get that there is "joy" in sacrifice. a joy you can not access ANY other way.

I used to be sad that so many of the people I knew, even family, were content to make themselves happy and disregard the world at large. I used to think I was paying a hefty price for caring. Guess what! The joke's on me! Suffering brings bliss! Self -sacrifice leads to a joy that only those who give in to it can access. It is a paradox. It is a gift. Now I grieve for my same friends. I want them to know this heart-ecstasy.

Today I celebrate the awesomeness of God. The God who chose me to be here. The God who is so full of Love that he would pour out his life for me. God, I hear you today. Thank you thank you for giving me the gift of suffering. My heart sings to you an unending hymn of praise.

My favorite Mosaic at St Isaac's Catherdral, St Petersburg, Russia.

Hochesh Chai?

That's the new punch line around here. You see, while we were staying in St Pete, the girls had to spend quite a bit more time at Alex's mother's house than I did. She must have asked me fifty times an hour if I wanted tea ( "Hochesh Chai?") but the girls got it even worse. So now Anya thinks it's an absolute riot to sneak up on us a-la-Svetlana Mikhailovna and whisper in our ear in her best old woman impression --" HOCHESH CHAI?"

I wish I had a photo of Svetlana Mikhailovna to show you, but she refused. She really was quite the character and, despite the altercation with the girls,  I really enjoyed our time with her. I do have some photos of her apartment, though. It was like walking through a movie set for a 1940s Russian film. I LOVED it.

It was a two room apartment, and we three stayed in the main room. A grandfather clock reminded us of our vanishing hours in perfect half-hourly fashion, using a voice like Big Ben. He literally scared us awake on the hour. The funniest part of that is that the first night he was silent. Svetlana -Mikhailovna set it to go off on the half-hour after the girls annoyed her. Now that's a woman after my own heart!

The bathroom was circa 1939, I'd guess. It had the most amazing contraption attached to it to heat the water. A giant metal box with a square hole in it, where you could catch a peak of a gas flame. When you turned the hot water handle -- BOOM! -- you heard a big bang and flames lit up the entire box. Nastia refused to take a bath at all, out of principle, but I took one every morning -- and kind of revelled in the fact that I was risking my life to be clean. 

Nastia and Anya slept on the pullout couch, and I slept in a chair that unfolded. It must have been 100 years old. Very cool. 

Svetlana-Mikhailovna brought out the worst in the girls, but it was very cute. She held them to the old-school standard, and they hated that. She asked them every day why they weren't in school, when they would get some job skills, when they would dress 'not like a crazy person.'  Nastia fought back in words, Anya tried to kill her with kindness. But she loved me. I seem to be the kind of person that elderly people really love. I'm polite , I give them the respect they deserve, and I love to hear their life stories.

Svetlana Mikhailovna (in Russia, one must use the patronymic name out of respect) spent a whole night trying to tell me her life story. From the bits I could understand, it was fascinating. She had lived in this very apartment since birth. Eighty years in the same home. Can you imagine the changes she has witnessed right out her front windows? She was a surgeon, and only retired two years ago. She is a staunch atheist, and we had a very interesting almost-conversation about my belief in God. Wish my Russian were better.

Cool Mask she had hanging over her desk.

The night before we left, she talked to me for hours at her kitchen table over tea, and then asked me if I would write her from America and tell her about my life. "We can be letter-friends, but don't tell my son." She said, " He wouldn't approve."

As the girls and I walked to the door to leave on Sunday, she pulled me aside and handed me her address on a slip of paper. " You may visit me anytime. Just not those girls. They belong in the crazy house."

I smiled and hugged her and went on my way, with her son, to the airport. I will surely write you from America, Svetlana Mikhailovna. Wish life afforded me more time to sit with you.

Two Second Post...

We are at  Sheremetevo Airport in Moscow. Our flight from St Pete was delayed ( in the sky) for an extra hour because of congestion, so now we only have 5 minutes to "rest" versus an hour! Oh well. I'm glad to be going 'home'. The girls both have a stomach bug, so today has been rough on them. Both have fevers and one is vomiting while the other is taking a different route, so to speak. Poor things. For some reason I am not sick. Counting it as a huge blessing, so I can dote on them for the plane rides.

Thanks for all the support! Can't wait to post photos once we get home!

Da Vinci Would Be Proud

Cafes are the same all over Russia....lots of smoke and techno music blaring. This time I am on Nevsky Prospekt in St Petersburg. It's 10:40am and I'm sooo grateful to finally have internet access. We couldn't get it yesterday anywhere we went -- don't know why -- and now today I can't access facebook. Anyway, I'm here and have almost too much to cover.

I want to be very clear that I do not hold Finland or Helsinki responsible in ANY way for the treatment I received while at the Russian Consulate there. You know how it is ...when you travel and have a bad experience, usually the entire city where you are becomes guilty by association and you say " I'm NEVER going there again!" Well, be sure this is not the case with Finland. I loved it there. It was bittersweet because I was not with my girls and had no one to share the experience with, but it piqued my interest enough that I really want to go back there some day. there is a sweetness about the people there, a gentle sincere contentment, that I have not experienced in any other country. I know I was only there for two days, but I had to deal with a great many people just maneuvering my way around the city. If the language were not  barrier, I might want to move there! They seem to hold the same values I do, and, to be honest, I like the way they dress..lol! Men in knit caps and wool coats, women riding bikes with baskets of flowers in the front, sporting colorful tights and maryjane shoes. It really looks like a postcard.

Now I'm back in St Pete and enjoyed a really relaxing, inspiring day yesterday at the Hermitage. For those who do not know what the Hermitage is, it used to be the Winter Palace of Czar Nikolas and his family. It is now one of the most impressive museums in the world. I bribed the girls into going for two hours full knowing that couldn't be done. I knew that once they were in there, the beauty of the place would draw them in. I was right.

Watching Anya look with wonder at Grecian statues and Da Vinci paintings literally made me cry. I had to go hide in a corner! she walked in a jaded, cynical girl from a very small world and walked out a very different person. Think about it, if you had never ever seen beautiful art your entire life  and then you found yourself surrounded by some of the most majestic, sacred and moving works of art the world has to offer. It would change you too.

I could tell it was affecting her when she tried time and time again to get away from Nastia and just be alone in the galleries. I finally had to take Nastia aside and remind her of her first time in a museum. " She needs to be alone, honey.." I told her. Thankfully, she got it and stuck with me. We spent almost seven hours in the Hermitage. My girls. Seven hours in a museum. Can you believe it? I was torn between the delight at fielding Nastia's non-stop questions and observations of what she was seeing, and revelling in Anya's absolute absorption of ever little thing. We crossed paths with her several times (which is a feat if you know the size of the Hermitage!). Once we found her sitting across from a Flemish painting of a young girl, (reminiscent of Girl with a Pearl Earring) and Anya had her head tilted sideways in the sweetest way, just pondering this girl. It was one of the most beautiful moments I have ever witnessed. I will treasure it forever.

Nastia, on the other hand, has become an amazing observer over the years. " Mom, look at the love in her face...she really loves that man" She says of one painting. " I wish I could go  back in time and watch this statue being carved. I want to see the guy who made it.." she says sweetly. It was seven hours of this. God couldn't have given me a more precious gift, unless He told me face to face that Anya is coming home with us.

I have so much more I'd love to share, but we have to pack up our things and head to the airport soon. Because of two flights, layovers and time changes, we actually don't arrive back in Kemerovo until Monday morning. So I may be MIA again for a day or two. Thanks for all your comments. I LOVE them. See you back in Kemerovo!

Worst 48 hours of my life

Only have 5 minutes to post. The hotel concierge at the Sokos is letting me use her computer. The Russian Consulate Helsinki puts the NYC one to shame. It was a day of utter awfulness. I have never cried for so long, so hard and so deeply in my life. (Those of you who know me know what that means.) I can´t type the whole awful story right now, but it involved me vomiting from stress and grief at the consulate. It also involved being told I was stuck here for 10 days. It also involved hearing that my two girls left their accommodations in St Petersburg after a terrible altercation with their host, and a night wandering St Pete and me not knowing if they were safe.

I will never ever trust the Russian Consulates ANYWHERE ever again. I am sick from crying all night...headed to the Consulate to stand outdoors in freezing temps & in the rain for 2 hours before they open. Every Russian Consulate I have ever been to treats their people like animals. I will never understand it.It makes me sick.

PLEASE pray that I will find a way back to St Pete very fast and will see my girls before nightfall. Please pray for my peace of mind as I think I have lost it. Must go.

UPDATE: It is 1:30pm and I am at an internet cafe in downtown Helsinki called Mbar. I got the visa...no thanks to the Consulate, but to MONEY talking...

I am taking the 3:30pm train to Saint Petersburg, It's a nine hour trip because of the long stops at both borders. I get into St Pete at a few minutes before 11pm...plus the time change.

The girls returned to the apartment, which I credit to prayer, as I laid prostrate on the hotel floor and begged God to give the girls the humility to return there. I don´t want to discredit Alex´s mom, because she is a wonderful woman, but she suffers from Alzheimer's very obviously, and Nastia did not understand her behavior. So when she was saying horrible things to Nastia about being an orphan, Nastia took it to heart. I was not there to explain that she has no control over what she is saying. Poor Nastia, Alex´s mother found the one thing that would outrage Nastia...an anti-miracle of sorts.

My friend Brian, God Bless Him, called Anya´s number incessantly until he reached her. I then got to speak to Nastia after a night of horrible worry. Brian held his phone up to his cllphone so we could talk. GTG as my internet time is up.... more from St Pete.... Prayers ALWAYS welcome...

I Am Amelie

...well, at least I want to be her. If you haven't seen the movie, you won't understand. So go watch it, and then read this post.

One of my many favorite parts of the movie is when she leads the blind man about and helps him 'see' everything around him, and then leaves him just as suddenly, in a pool of wonder. I want to do that for you! So here is your little tour of this very moment in a small city in Siberia..

The room is filled with smoke, it hangs heavy like shawl over all the patrons. I'm one of them. A man about 50 years old is being seated next to us, his belly swollen from years of drinking, no doubt. He carries a folder newspaper under his arm, His eyebrows are black, but his hair is gray. he wears a gold chain about his neck. He has kind eyes. He  glances at his watch and leans into the menu.

Behind me two waitresses talk and laugh. They wear the required green polo shirts and black aprons. One is our waitress. She is sweet and soft-spoken. She has dark bangs and heart-shaped lips. She is sweating in the heat of the room. Outside a woman walks by with a baby carriage. The woman is tall and thin and blond. The baby is wrapped in pink things and has a smile on her face.

The trees outside are clinging to their last golden leaves, the sun casting a glow to them that seems otherworldly. The other trees beyond them are laden with dark berries that Nastia says are sharp and bitter in taste.

The techno music blasting on the sound system is loud enough that I can watch the ice in my glass move in a sympathetic pulse. The table, too, hums with the beat of the music.

Widening our vision, you can see the cafe is full to capacity. Dozens of conversations overlapping, waitresses delivering tea and blini, a young girl laughing, the dessert wheel spinning under a tower of glass, the sun streaming in....

Well, hope I took you somewhere for a moment! I'm off to pray the rosary at the Catholic Church that I FINALLY found --thank you Margie! Wonder if it will be in English or Russian....

God Speaking, and the Flower Lady of Sovietskaya Street

God speaks to me in close, conversational tones here. He is not silent. Want to get to know God? Leave all the comforts of home behind, leave family and friends, leave your dogs and cats whose soft breathing comforts you at night, leave traffic and television, leave town gossip and late night conversations with your best friend. Leave. Leap off that cliff. God will catch you.


I am learning so many beautiful lessons here that each day now feels more like an unwrapped present the universe has left on my doorstep rather than the bitter pill I thought it was a month ago. Too many spiritual gifts to count -- the gift of patience, the gift of gratitude for small things, the gift of trusting God implicitly, the gift of unknowing, the gift of humility, the gift of time. How could I not have seen this great gift? Shame on me.


The days move like pebbles on the bottom of a river here - slowly and with purpose. People look at you. The edges of leaves are easy to make out on the wet pavement. Even your breath is visible. You see things here. I am already grieving the inevitable loss of this when we go home. It is so hard to cultivate presence in America. For me, anyway.


Today Nastia and I wandered the city streets for hours, taking everything in and revelling in it. We watched the elderly people carving their slow way across the busy streets. We watched the homeless dogs meander through traffic like delicate embroidery needles - crafting the perfect route so as not to get in anyone's way. We watched the legless boy in the wheelchair laugh as his brother did wheelies down the sidewalk, careful not to spill his brother. Weeks ago these things made me cry. Today they made my heart leap in gratitude.


Who am I to judge what is suffering? I know my own. But why did I think there was no joy inherent in these things? Just because this country wears a different face than I am used to. Just because there is hunger and ribs showing and dark puddles of water laced with coal dust ....what makes me the judge of its meaning, its beauty?


Today I saw the beauty in the grime and gray. Today I saw the holiness in the face of the old and bent man huddling against the building to keep warm. Today God humbled me and spoke to me of the beauty I had closed my eyes to.


At the end of our walk, Nastia and I stepped into a tiny flower stand (the size of a small closet) to buy roses for her birthday. Before we even entered, I had the sense of something holy in there. We entered in off the noisy street and I felt like I had entered a church. The woman selling the flowers was so full of love that her scent overpowered the scent of the roses crowded around her.


As we chose flowers, she questioned us about our life, and the whole long bitter story of two sisters came tumbling out of Nastia's mouth. The adoption, the separation, the reunion. She shared it all. 


The woman stared at me with a look of great wonder, and then burst into tears. She reached over the counter and hugged me tight and kissed my face over and over and over.


'God bless you, God bless you...your heart is like God's! God bless you for bringing these sisters together....' she said, weeping, and she handed us a  perfect pink rose for Anya.


As we left her tiny shop with red roses for Nastia and the single pink rose for Anya, our new friend Ludmilla watched us go and held a tattered grey kerchief up to her eyes. 'God sees!' she called after us, 'He sees...'


My cup overflows....

I'd Be Lying...

...if I didn't admit to being uber-excited about our 'forced' trip out of Russia. It strikes me as profoundly funny that only a few days ago I cried myslf silly over the fact that I would have to leave for a bit, and now I am counting the hours till we head north!

Here is some of why I am excited:

and this....

and once I get to Finland, there is this....

and a little of this..

If I didn't know better, I'd think God was doing His darned best to 'woo' me into staying over here permanently. Funny thing is, it's starting to not feel like such a horrible thing. The girls and I have been talking alot about it. If we are unable to secure Anya a way to return with us by December, we will start the planning phase of 'The Big Move.' Nastia is the only one on the fence about it. She 'hates' Russia and is not sure she would survive a move here. We have discussed a myriad of options, and we still don't know what would be best. We all need to make a new start if we are to work well as a family -- not to mention the fact that I need to live somewhere where I can make a living!

Good news, I can still pursue adopting D no matter where we are going. Nadezhda (The Director) thinks it is a perfect match and cried when I told her of my interest. I know there are many of you thinking I am nuts right now, and that's ok. You're entitled to your opinion, but I respectfully ask you to keep it to yourself. God has made it abundantly and commandingly clear that he is meant to be my son. I am only following orders, people. If you don't think the plan is a good one, talk to Him, not me!

And so I'll leave you with a photo of Peterhof in St Pete, which I will be visiting this weekend. Got to go get ready for Nastia's birthday! (Anya and I are sneaking out at 9am to get the cake, flowers and balloons!)

Nastia Says I'm a Drug Addict

And this, she says, is my addiction:

She's right. Just about midnight each night, I go get my 'stash' and self-medicate. Nutella, I love you. I could not have survived this month without you. The apples just relieve some of the guilt associated with my nutella addiction. If you haven't had nutella spread on a granny smith apple, you have not lived, my friend.

PS: Anya waltzed by just now when I took the picture...hence the feet in the background. I'm wondering her toes are so red! And, yes, I am eating on the floor. We do not have a kitchen table...or any table for that matter. I blog on the floor, so it only makes sense that I eat there, too.

2nd Degree Burns, Finlandia, and A Very Important Birthday

A little reminder for all of you, that we live in Bigfoot Country! He's sighted in Kemerovo fairly often
and this is a recent footprint found locally. Maybe we'll go hunting one of these weekends...

Sitting on the floor, drinking my 3rd cup of tea today, nursing the 2nd degree burn I got on my arm from the tea kettle...ouch! The girls are cuddled in bed watching tv, and all is fairly well with the world.

Tomorrow I will spend my third Sunday here looking for the local Catholic Church, which has proved impossible to find. Then Anya and I will try to sneak off to shop for Nastia's birthday, which is Monday. Trying to find a way to make the day memorable for her, when she has no friends here but Anya and Katya. I'm open to ideas. Nastia is turning eighteen.And yes, this is a big deal to me and I'm having some anxiety about the momentousness of the occasion, but I'll be ok. I think.

On Wednesday I hope we will be flying to St Petersburg. The girls will visit with our friend Alex Chizenok while I make my way to Helsinki, Finland to renew my visa. Alex is the tv journalist who helped to locate Anya and we have become good friends over the years, staying in touch and even hosting him on a visit to Massachusetts last year. It's funny to catch Alex on TV most days. I'll never get used to seeing people I know on tv! Feels very surreal. Anyway, he does lots of cultural programming, so I enjoy watching his work.

We will stay in an apartment that Alex's family owns, and I'm not exactly sure how long we will be there. I'm guessing 4-5  days. I should be able to get an expedited visa ( I checked) but if there is a long line or something, I want to make sure I give myself enough time to stay in Helsinki two days if needed.

I also have another generous high school friend who now lives in Sweden and offered to host me for a few nights if needed. I almost wish it were needed! I would welcome the time to chat face to face with her and see a new part of the world, but I feel too guilty leaving the girls with Alex for more time than is needed.

And for those of you wondering why  I don't just leave the girls with Svetlana for a few days and save money -- I just can't wrap my head around leaving them thousands of miles away. In St Pete they will only be a quick boat ride or 4 hour car ride away from me. I can live with that. Plus, Anya doesn't know St Pete, so she will stick close to Alex and not get into trouble. If I left them here, she might abandon Nastia and go off with her friends. I don't want that. We're trying to bond as a family. As to the money, I borrowed some before heading over and I will use  some of that to cover the flights. Yes, it's that important to me:)

In other news, the girls are really bonding and so are Anya and me. Lots of great memories being created and lots of laughs. Anya is attempting more English, and my Russian is getting way less embarrassing.

Goodnight world, from our little family in Siberia:)

Russian TV Cracks Me Up..and Other Random Funnies

I have seen quite a few attempts at English locally that really crack me up. The ad on tv for  "Baby Supermarket" never ceases to make me smile. It is a local mega-store for all things kid related, and the sign is written in Cyrillic but made to sound out " Baby Supermarket." Everytime the ad comes on, I think "Wow! so cool! We can just skip the whole adoption route and pick up some babies right downtown!"

Then there is the menu item at a local cafe that tells me in English that  "tea has been enjoyed by Siberians for 100,000 years and counting." Now, that may be true....but I'm doubting it. In the same menu you can buy gum, cigarettes and toothpicks with your meal.

There is one tv show I absolutely hate. It's called "Love is Blind" or something like that. In it, they bring two total strangers together to meet on a first date but --get this-- they meet in a room void of any light source, and we, the audience, watch their antics via infrared camera. Its pretty much as disgusting as it sounds.

Another one I find disturbing but a little fascinating is a show called " It's True". Its kind of a Maury Povich kind of show with a little " Who wants to be a millionaire" thrown in. A family comes on and one is put in the hotseat. They are offered a sum of money to tell the truth about a family secret. Then, they keep being offered larger amounts of money for bigger and bigger secrets until they reach their limit. The worst part is that after they share a secret, the other family members are forced to go up and show their support with hugs and words of support. It's mortifying! On the last episode a mother was forced to admit she thought her daughter was ugly. It was awful!

There are English phrases on tshirts everywhere, and some of them are so random I'm tempted to buy them and bring them home for my students! Anya was wearing one today that said in graffiti style letters "Put on your shoes". Umm, what?  I saw another that said "Kitten Power" but had a picture of a bullseye. Hmm...

So. I'll leave you with some interesting photos I took today at the park next to our building. Enjoy!

This weird visual is just outside our building, on the edge of the river. I think the cosmonaut is supposed to be an art installation.

Abandoned building that I totally love. Want to direct a Shakespeare play here. 

Can you guess which one?

There are scary plaster faces on cement poles in the park, and although I do not like them, they are haunting for sure...

I'll leave you with a cute photo of Anya that Nastia took, so you won't have the scary plaster faces lingering in your head all day....