Ukraine Experience (part 2); Lena and Slavik

Ok, let me explain.



A major part of the Camp experience at the Hope Center (did I mention that was the name of the facility?) involves learning the words, tune and motions to the Russian songs that we sing with the kids. Of course this is the ideal, not necessarily the reality. Russian is written in Cyrillic, which I can't read, so having lyrics sheets would be a waste of time. This means that the international contingent attempts to improve their lip-syncing abilities while acting out lyrics they can't understand. I explain this so that the above photo makes slightly more sense. I struggled to simultaneously enjoy the song time and still perform the correct actions to the songs so my remedy was to use the pictured dance as a filler when I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. By the end of the week when Paul caught us on film (or memory card), a handful of "my" kids had taken to joining me in dancing this contagious jig.



The girl on the left is Lena and she is, hands down, one of my favorites. She and her twin sister Inna were among the more out-going and animated kids at the camp. Inna didn't seem as drawn to me, but this may be because I accidentally hit her in the forehead with a frisbee at the beach one day. I'm guessing that they were around 10 years old, but some of the team disputes that (they guessed older). I would have asked her as I do know how to say this in Russian, but my knowledge of their numbers isn't top-shelf. Also, in a multi-lingual environment where the majority of communication is non-verbal anyway, it didn't seem that important. She really enjoyed the fact that at about 70 pounds (soaking wet) compared to my 190, I could carry her around on my back almost indefinitely. I was selected for extensive taxi duty at least once a day. She loved just being a part of what we were doing even if there was really nothing interesting going on. I can't say that our friendship was based exclusively on unselfish enjoyment of hanging out. She quickly realized that I am physically incapable of saying no to little girls (let's hope Sarah and I have all boys) when they ask sweetly. She used me to get extra food, craft materials and eventually the hemp bracelet that I was making for myself. Of course I realized I was being played, but I loved every minute of it.

The boy to my right in the photo is Slavik. He is about 12-13 years old and quickly became one of the consensus favorites for both his attitude and his story. Without being asked, he would clear our dishes (which should have been our responsibility) at nearly every meal. He took this self-imposed responsibility so seriously that we would sometimes be reprimanded in rapid-fire Russian if we tried to do it ourselves. Though prone to whining - which is not nearly as grating when you don't understand what is being said - Slavik was always fun to have around. It was heart breaking when we discovered that after the camp he would be returning to the rehab center where he had lived for the past 2 years (I think) recovering from drug addiction.

The end of camp is the hardest part when you are working with orphans, street kids and deeply troubled children. I am not a regular cryer but I am also not stone-hearted. Leaving the kids that I had come to consider "mine" was one of the hardest experiences I can recall. This process began at the closing ceremonies on Sunday night and dragged through to our eventual departure Tuesday morning. At the ceremony I had a preview of what Tuesday would be like as Lena cried continuously throughout the evening, drenching the fronts of Paul's and my shirts with her tears. After the older girls left Monday morning (stories and pictures will be forthcoming) I knew that I was going to have trouble keeping my emotions under control. As we waited for the vans to come, everyone exchanged "I will miss you's" in whatever language they could. Knowing that many were returning to orphanages or to family situations that involved addiction, alcoholism or abuse made letting go that much harder. I tried hard but cannot deny tearing up several times.

My little dancing friends Lena and Slavik will be in my heart and mind until I can return to Ukraine, hopefully to see them again. More pictures and stories are yet to come.