Adventures in Ukraine

When we arrived at Larissa’s and Dima’s, they were so shocked…they called Jane for me and then put me on the phone. She said “who is this?”, when I answered it was me, she said “Where are you?” Like, where did she think I was? She had just talked to Masha…in Ukraine…and then 2 seconds later…of course I was here. She was SO shocked she was speechless. And any of you who know Jane, know that is nearly impossible!

I got home, dropped my stuff, grabbed some food, chatted with Jane, and crashed! It was nice to hit the bed, lie horizontal, and not have to go to the bathroom in a tin can in constant motion! The food was MUCH better as well!

The next morning we would start our stay off with meetings, etc. But we are here…in one piece…all to the glory of God!

till later…

After an uneventful flight to Dneper, we landed and got thru passport control and on to pick up our luggage.  And then on to pick up our luggage…we stood by that silly conveyor belt for an extra 10 minutes refusing to believe that there were NO more bags coming around for us to choose from. Like little boys standing at the fridge, just sure that dessert would appear in there if they only waited long enough.

We went to the young man nearest us, and I asked him about more luggage. He said “oh no”, and hurriedly walked away to inquire for us. Very shortly we were told to take our carry on bags thru the security and then go around to a different place to make some paper work.

I said, “Well, at least we know that when those doors open, there will be a whole lot of Ukrainian faces happy to see us…”

Did I say it couldn’t get any worse? I shouldn’t have. When the doors opened, there were a few faces, but they were not happy to see us. In fact, no one on the other side was familiar at all. It was surreal. I only think there has been one time when I wasn’t met at the airport by the party that was supposed to be there. It was dreadful then, and it was worse now. With no interpreter, and no one to help us get a taxi…it didn’t look promising. The only phone number that we had was ‘not taking calls at this time”.

I would have taken a van to the city, but they wanted a taxi. Now, where to ask them to go. After struggling for awhile with what to do, I said “just tell them Daffi, everyone knows where that is”, so finally they did. And of course they knew where that was. After grabbing something to eat at Daffi, now what to do. Again, we grabbed a taxi. I told them I knew where Larissa and Dima lived, but they told him to turn too soon, that was okay, but when we got closer to their house, they again told them to turn too soon ( I knew to turn at the light, and to turn on the second street….) but don’t ask me, I’ve only been coming here since 1997! I also could have gotten them to Janes house, but they said she might not be home (she was!!) The whole situation was a little…okay very…frustrating to me.

In the long run, it didn’t really matter. We got to Larissa’s and Dima’s house, and boy were they surprised. They were sitting there drinking tea in their underwear (after just finishing showers, etc) and the look on their faces was priceless!

They were expecting us on Saturday and had a big shibang planned for our arrival! What a difference a day makes.

And…who needs a stinking interpreter…we made it to town on our own! (btw, that last part was a joke!) We DO need interpreters and are glad to have them!

till later…

When we finally found the correct door to leave out of, they put us on a shuttle and sent us on a 15 -20 minute journey to “the other side” of the airport. We got off of the shuttle, entered where there was another desk, and that lady gave us boarding passes. Then we had to go thru some screening. Greg went first and set off all of the bells and whistles. He stepped back and started taking off stuff. After about two things from pockets, etc. they sent me thru…nothing…Steve thru…nothing…Kathy thru…nothing…Greg again…alarms and lights…he stepped back and began to take off any and everything that he possibly could…bells and whistles again.

Steve agreed to stay behind with him, and Kathy and I went thru security and on into the terminal. We immediately looked for a place to get something to eat and drink. It’s funny, but they don’t want to take American money in that terminal. Another funny thing, they will take credit cards (which I was not going to give them for more than one reason) (assuming that I had a credit card with me!) so they sent us to the machine that exchanges money…the ONLY kind of machine that exchanges money…and it did not take cash…you guessed it…it takes credit cards!

Needless to say, I didn’t give up on the idea of finding some place that WOULD take cash. I finally found a young lady that spoke enought English and she took me to several places and interpreted until I found a place that we could buy some water. Cold water never tasted better than that bottle!

The problem with Greg…he had a nuclear stress test a day or so before he left home. They injected him with radio active dye…his whole body lit up to their scan. I was afraid that they weren’t going to let him in. He did finally get enough scanning gizmos that they figured he couldn’t be that dangerous, and they let him thru….

What a day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it…

till later

We were a little behind schedule, but not much, when we arrived in Moscow. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was not this little terminal that we landed at. After deboarding, we looked for any signs that would indicate where to go. There was this big red sign that said “International Transit” and then the equivelent in Russian. So. being the “rules” kinda girl I am, I asked some one nearby if this was the right place. I was assurd that it was so we waited in line. Welllll…when it was our turn, we were told to go downstairs and go thru passport controll and get our luggage. I kinda thought that was weird…but…

Downstairs is the typical passport control area. I went thru first and they freaked out when they saw my visa. The lady, of course, looked disgusted at me and then showed me the “error of my ways” when the date didn’t match for the visa and the entry date. Of course…I was “transit” coming in and “stopping” going out, so the dates actually matched.

Any way…I was told abruptly to move aside and let the others thru. They were in the wrong place and were sent up stairs again. I was then told to sit on a bench outside of an office and they would get to me. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the other three in my group left me there, by myself, and went back upstairs with words of comfort “I hope you don’t have to sleep in the airport for the next three weeks!”  I was not amused.

In fact, I was a little scared. My passport was pulled, I didn’t have a boarding pass (I could only get it inside the air terminal), I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t have an interpreter, I didn’t have any friends by my side…BUT…I did have the Lord, God Almighty, holding my hand thru it all. I began to pray for a “no fear” attitude, and a quick resolution to my problem. He was there, and He never let me go. I wish I could say my fear immediately left me, it didn’t. My panicked feeling left me, and the fear subsided as I continued to pray.

Eventually, after much walking back and forth and shaking of their heads, they found a woman who spoke Russian. When I explained it all to her, she asked me, “did you tell them your story?”. (like it was that easy) I told her that I had tried…regardless…she helped me and I was able to meet up with the other three (who were being sent downstairs again, so they had not been able to completely leave me after all).

God is good.

till later

While waiting to board the transatlantic flight I got a chance to people watch. As I said before, there was a senior tour group waiting to fly to Moscow as well. I sat next to a couple who reminded me of Michael’s great-grandmother, Granny and PaPa Harris. We had to have our papers checked to insure that our passports had Russian visa’s (if needed). That required us to stand in line and have the ONE ande ONLY employee check everyone’s papers before they could board. So I just happened to be up there asking a question when she started checking papers…any way!

The couple had watched my bags for me and so I agreed to watch theirs. Of course I was sarcastic, my like my Dad, and asked if they did tricks? They looked at me, I said, ‘you know, tricks, roll over, play dead…’ the wife got it and started laughing…the husband…not so much…oh well, not everyone gets my humor.

In line to get their passports checked were three sisters and their brother. He looked like the lone Banty rooster in a hen house FULL  of hens. And hens that were sure going to tell him how to do it! They reminded me of Fiddler on the Roof where Tevia is being henpecked by all the woman in his family. They talked over each other, and repeated the same instructions over and over because they each heard the instructions as if for the first time, even though their sibling had JUST been given that same instruction. “You must have your boarding pass”, “Sister, I have to have my boarding pass, do you know where it is?”, second sister “Sister, I have to have my boarding pass, so you have yours?”, third sister “I have to have my boarding pass? Sister, do you have my boarding pass?” I couldn’t help but giggle. The poor brother went from sister to sister, making sure that the papers they had left with their bags, got to the appropriate sister…and then back to get the second ones papers…etc! It was better than any TV sitcom on the air!

Finally…everyone was boarded and we took off for Moscow! We hadn’t been in the air more than 20 minutes or so when the captain came on the speaker and asked for any Dr. to find a flight attendant. Uh-oh! That didn’t sound very good to me. We kept flying for a little while, when the captain again came over the intercom and announced that we were going to make an emergency landing in Boston to deplane a passenger that needed to have medical attention.

Needless to say Sharon was surprised to hear my voice still in the States! We had to be on the ground for over an hour before we could fly on to Moscow. (before landing we also had to get rid of fuel and it looked very weird out of the side windows to see them dumping it!)

Then…on to Moscow!

till later…

I got thru the check in process, and the security, and finding my gate, and getting something to drink…aghhhh…with no problems. I was quite early so I had plenty of time to sit and read my book while waiting for the flight to board.

As,  we waited in the gate area the lady sitting next to me had a Kindle (electronic book) with her and I asked her about it. As we began chatting, I learned that she was from Terrel, TX and her son and my grandson had played against each other in soccer years ago! (it IS a small world) As we chatted, we noticed a paramedic team arrive at the gate. They were let in the gate, and were soon followed by four fireman. Of course…the electricity in the room went up a few notches. Everyone wondering about who the paramedics were here to help, and joking about the pilot needing medical attention “ha ha ha” in very insecure tones. As it turns out we were delayed by forty minutes while they took care of a pregnant lady who needed some help, and by the other people having to wait to deboard…it turned out to be not TOO bad, but we got a late start.

The flight to Atlanta was very uneventful, although my seat mate was very interesting. She was Venezuelan (living in the States now), and just as animated talking with her hands as someone YOU all know! We had a very interesting conversation about her children, work, etc. (she has two, and works for FICA) She asked about what I was doing and I shared some of my Ukraine work with her. She said she wasn’t very religious, but…I shared about why I do what I do, and talked some about Jesus. When we deplaned, she waited for me and made sure that I got to the right gate area to catch my next flight, and then hurriedly gave me her card so that I could email her with how my trip went. It was a very kind act on her part, and I really appreciated her help in a strange and different airport for me.

I finally found my gate, and was just stopping to buy something to eat when they announced a gate change. Of course it was for a gate on the opposite end of the terminal! So I dropped my food and ran to the other gate area. I bought some lunch when I got to the correct gate.

There was a tour group of seniors that were also in the gate area waiting for their flight to Moscow, and a cruise up one of the rivers there in Russia. We were starting to pre-board when the rest of the team from Arkansas arrived. I thought for just a moment that they would not make it for some reason!

We eventually got on the flight and began our journey.

till later…

Another trip to Ukraine is well on its way. I had no way of knowing that this trip would be one that started with so much “adventure”. When I arrived at DFW, everything was going great so far, the traffic had been very light…You know the drill…getting the bags all situated…getting checked in etc….

I arrived with two check in bags and two carry ons. My bags weighed in at exactly 50 lbs apiece, I had much concern over what to take and what had to be left behind, but they were right on the money for the weight. So…the gentleman that checked me in looked at my ticket and asked me how you said the name of the city where I was going. Of course I answered correctly, and in a Russian accent, the name Dnepropetrovsk. He smiled and showed me his name tag and asked what nationality it was. I said, very facetiously, “Polish?”. Of course he winced, and told me he gave me every opportunity to say Ukrainian!! I laughed, and he smiled and told me his grandparents were Ukrainian, although he was born here, he had ties there. He had never been there, but…we had a pleasant exchange.

As I was saying about my bag weight…it was exactly 50 lbs. until I put on the straps that would help identify them and keep them from bursting open and strewing my things all over two continents. After the straps, the bags were 51 lbs. One pound over the weight limit and subject to excess weight charges…for BOTH bags! He looked down as he threw the first one on the conveyor belt, “Hmmm…”, and as the second one weighed exactly one lb over, he said “you are consistent with the weight of your bags” and threw the second one one the belt as well! (with no charge to me) I just smiled and said “yeah…thanks!” That was the first of my blessings on this new adventure! Thank you “Delta Man”, I appreciate your courtesy, and forgiveness in my overage!

till later….