General Impressions

Visa fotos went extremely well this morning.  Ana did super in the car and walking through the mall (I got to carry her on this walk, which was nice). She had no issues with the middling-busy crowd, and sat for her photo like a champ, though the lady wanted her on a stool, so both the nurse and I worked to steady her, keep her head up, and point her nose generally at the camera.  Bravo, Ana.  It waa also nice to hear the staff calling her Ana and Anastacia.  Since the visa photos, I think they are generally convinced that we are serious, love Ana, and want good for her.  This has resulted in a degree of thawing in their attitude toward me.  They have made it easy to take Ana outside, for instance.

I would like to attribute as much of their reservation as possible to a concern for protecting kids from random foreigners and/or journalists, and I think this is a real concern for them.  Nobody needs a media circus, or even noise on the internet.  The direction the orphanage is heading seems positive, there's a lot still to do, and you cannot erase the consequences of the past. But you can take better care of them.

Babas are in evidence everywhere.  There have always been a few (three to six) babas with kids out and about when I have visited.  I spied a baba reading to a group of three toddlers on our way back from the exercise room.  When the storm blew through, there was a stream of babas and kids filing in the back door.  Good things to see.  (I continue to say baba because the term lelya has not penetrated into common usage yet.)

One more visit tomorrow.  It will be hard to leave Ana, and I look forward to the next trip.  I look forward more to when she is home with her brothers and her mother and me.  I look forward most to the new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwells.

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.  And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God,  prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place  of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.  He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."  And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”  And he said to me, “It is done!  I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment.  The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son.  But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Incidental Conversation

After breakfast, I took a stroll in the park and settled on a bench by the old church to jot thoughts and swat mosquitoes.  A resident had a similar idea, and after commenting on my shoes (Vibram five-fingers) sat down on the next bench.  I had offered a dobar-den to his comment, it being the wittiest reply available.  After a while he asked if I were from the town.  I smiled and said "ne, Amerikansky".  This is usually when people decide that I am functionally an imbicile, smile, and do their best to have done with me pronto. But this gentleman sat down next to me and started a conversation.

Turns out he has two kids, mid thirties, and four grandkids, aged 3-9.  He wondered if I was in P. on business, and I shook (shoulda nodded...darn) my head and said "adopt".  This got a puzzled look, and we attempted to talk for a while, I showed him photos of Tater and Porgies and Mama (by a dinosaur in So.Dak.), told him their ages, and then showed him a photo of Ana.  He was aware of the dom mediko-sozial, and my cartoon below helped him get the idea.  We had now spent about half an hour establishing what took you a minute to read.  He checked his watch, I checked mine, and we wished each other good day, and parted ways.  Now he knows that Americans really are imbiciles with funny shoes. But perhaps he at least thinks they are nice imbiciles.

On to visa photos, thank you for your prayers, our Gospod Bog is faithful to complete what he began.

Also, you can just buy Bibles in the bookstores now. Hooray!

Lunch and Letters

Sausages, plums, and yogurt to drink.  I like the food here.  But I was not brave enough to order a salad from the deli.

And for my language-loving boy(s) at home, a Cyrillic magnet alphabet board!  Trusting Google Translate, it says I love you, and you can arrange yourselves according to the singular or plural, as apropos.  On to the notary.

Further visits

I have now had four visits with Ana, with four more to go.  It has been a pleasure to get to know her, and to see the beginnings of recognition of me.  God is faithful, and I trust that the rest of the week will go as well or better than the beginning.

Specific conditional comments:
Her ability to eat from a spoon was encouraging. I got to feed her for an hour on Tuesday, though not today.
I met her former baba, and Ana clearly recognized her and had a positive response, which was nice to see, and gives me hope that she will eventually bond well with her mama and papa.
She will vocalize when particularly happy, and will sometimes make whistles or gurgles in her throat; I have not deduced the meaning or cause of these yet.
Her left hip has some motion, though very restricted. Her left knee does go to 90degrees, or slightly more.

Comments on the orphanage:
The bad press received because of the despicable actions of the former director and her daughter has made the staff somewhat skittish.  It is worth remembering that the majority of people think they are doing the best job they can, given the resources and demands.  This is a subjective statement, plainly, but it is the sentiment I have observed.  I also think Americans have zero conception of the psychosocial effects of a bureaucr-archy such as the east bloc endured under Soviet hegemony (and which is not easily removed).  The staff, however, mostly came of age under Z's rule and in such a system.  Obfuscation is an elementary reaction.  Outright lying (as long as it doesn't put you in a bind) is fair game.  Snow jobs are second nature.  The paramount instinct is self-advancement, because if you don't step up you will be stepped on. This does not merely relate to job or social or monetary standing, but pervades all of life. Bear in mind that communism demands atheism, and though the church was allowed to limp through that era, her witness is not strong, and her methods generally favored self-preservation over evangelism. That is a hard lesson to un-learn (even in America). 

Susanna and the early adopters from P. saw the conditions there, which I cannot pretend to fathom.  Observing it today through American eyes, it remains a sad place, with the dangers of institutionalism evident, and the neglect of (at least) the grounds inescapable. 

Put on your comm-goggles for a moment, though. There is no god, the strong are praiseworthy, life is secondary to the state.  That these children are maintained at state expense should be commendable, ne? They would be dead, otherwise. The staff is really doing all they can, their salaries are low, and things really are much better than a year or two ago.  Why are the Americans so crazy? Can't they see this is a hard job in an old building caring for these kids nobody wanted? If it's such a big deal, let them do something instead of just yelling at us.

All of this is to say that any discussion of the conditions of the orphanage demands nuance, and hysterics are always counterproductive.  There are productive ways to help improve the situation there, and they should be pursued.  For instance, someone should adopt Owen (not sure if his file is still on RR). He is plainly delayed, but spunky and interested in his surroundings like the bed of irises outside in the back - they must have been lovely in April and May. He also cannot speak, but expresses himself in moans and groans.  It seemed to me that a great deal of his delays could be reversed if he were removed from that environment ASAP.  Remember that abandoned children come from moms who chose life.  If we have less of an orphan population in America it is because we have a more widespread murder problem.  We just make it medical and pretend a great sin can prevent lesser ones.

So please do find ways to help (like the P-project, see Susanna's site), prayer, and adoption.  Do not be deceived about the hearts of men and women (or orphans) - without Christ, there is no faculty un-corrupted, and while we may be dismayed by evil, let us not pretend to be surprised (else we display a shocking ignorance of our hearts and the cross of Christ).  And when we deal with people, especially the orphanage workers, let us by smooth speech break bones, by innocence outguile them, and by soft answers smother wrath, for histronics lead to no good, but persuasion and persistence pay off.

Today is notary, tomorrow visa photos, Friday is last visit and back to S.  Thank you for your prayers, God is faithful, as always.

Now for lunch.

Impressions from the first visit

It is a cold place.
The attempts at color highlight the dominant theme,
Soviet gray,
walls, stairs, hearts.
A man and his woman are abandoning their baby today.
Perhaps they have other errands; he seems in a hurry.
Down below I will meet my daughter.
Twelve years have passed since she was the subject of such a scene,
with her twin, though, "No information on father".
I am the first father she has had,
and she lies across my lap,
this sack of potatoes - if Fabergé made potatoes.
She is deformed,
the weight of others' sin has distorted her skull and jaw and life.
She seems to have spent years - a decade? - on her left side,
her ear folded and her legs crossed,
for so she now sits, hips twisted like the past of the orphanage.
Yet she turns her head,
her eyes like two brown sunflowers
following the sound of her name,
and catching my gaze and smile.
Her country grows many such flowers,
in field, garden, and orphanage.
And they are beautiful,
as God made them to be.

Musings jotted during travel

In a foreign country, you cannot pretend to understand the people around you.  In this way it is more honest than one's home.

As we age, our eyes grow dim while our ears and noses slowly enlarge.  There is a lesson about wisdom here.

To see both a cloud and its shadow from above is a mere pretence of objectivity.  One sun illumines us.

Overflying this country shows a variegated terrain of hills and valleys, wet and dry, grass and wood; a good place to work in the sun, see the vines grow, grapes, tomatoes, perhaps squash and kitchen gardens.  We are called to tend and keep, plant, water, and prune, souls as well as seeds.

At the Hotel Rost*v

As my inimitable interpreter put it: "It's not a good hotel, but at least it is a hotel, you know." 

Soviet charm with easy access to shops!  Who could ask for anything more?

He also said, after an inquiring visit to a disappointing smaller hotel: "There's no competition in this town."  He does have a degree in economics, after all.