Dreary Days

A bakery with real bakery items--they actually have a normal, sweet taste.
(Thanks Craig & Gail, and Alla.)

This is the outside view of the circus. Sorry, we have no

inside views, but still hope to get to go one day.

Another dreary Sunday afternoon in Kiev. Wonder if the lack of sunshine is why everyone walks around with a gloomy look on their face and why the locals don’t bother with common courtesies? Recently, I read an article in an English language Kiev newspaper by a native to here who strongly suggested that Russians (she included all of those who used to be part of the Soviet Union in that label) all learn to behave more nicely, more like their neighbors in the European Union. Her point was that when they then become tourists in the E.U. or elsewhere, for that matter, then their boorish ways wouldn’t make all Russians unwelcome guests. She specifically pointed out things that we Americans take for granted. “Excuse me,” when someone knocks into you on the street or a simple “I’m sorry” are phrases rarely heard here in Ukraine. The locals here love to cut right in front of you in line, by simply shoving your or nudging you out of their way. The author also chided Russians for how they let alcohol control them—how rowdy they think they are allowed to become just because they have a bottle of vodka for example. The list goes on and on. . . Again, we are thankful to be Americans!!

Speaking of liquor reminds me of riding the bus last week. One day, this sweet faced girl of about thirteen or fourteen heard us speaking English and after a few half turns to check us out, she turned around and started up a conversation with us. Her English was very good. She told us that she and her seatmate were headed to school—an English school. She responded that she thought it would be good to know English for her future when I asked her about why she chose the English school. The conversation was brief but had a lasting effect on me, not because of the words spoken, but because as she exited the bus I noticed what she was drinking. I thought it was a cola of some sort, but no, it was a beer she was swigging! And at 10:00 in the morning!!

Something I admire about guys here in Kiev: they are not hesitant to carry their wife or girlfriend’s purse. It always amazes me when I see that here as it is so uncommon in the U.S. It doesn’t make them seem less macho for doing it either. To be fair to John here, I must mention that the red bag (thanks, Alesia) we used for a carry on on the plane and now as storage for all the workbooks, puzzles, games, cars, snacks is toted daily by him back and forth to the orphanage. It is just too heavy for this gal. But I’m talking about men carrying the lady’s shiny, black purses for them when they need them to, and they seem to do so readily. Just an observation.

We went to the Museum of Russian Art today. We would post some pictures here for your enjoyment, but seeing as there were large signs indicating no cameras, John decided he didn’t want to get kicked out of another place (referencing St. Vladymir’s Cathedral incident) and so didn’t try to take any pictures. The museum was okay but not all what most of you would expect an art museum to contain. Most of the paintings dated back to only a hundred or so years ago. Still, there were a few amazing works.

Other than that and shopping (just looking) at a couple of stores, there’s really not much going on here. On weekends, you all will recall, that we don’t get to go visit Maxim. John and I both enjoy our time spent with him, plus, it gives us something worthwhile to do with our days, so we are both looking forward to seeing the little guy tomorrow morning. He continues to impress us with his sweet disposition, his sheer pleasure in just seeing us, and his fortitude for doing puzzles. : ) We hope to have more pictures of him posted soon as well as the missing post from last time re-established.

Alla did show me how to buy vanilla flavoring and baking powder because I have been wanting to bake some homemade cookies to take to Maxim one day. Can you imagine living in a large city like this and there not being any cake mixes, cookie mixes, refrigerated cookie dough, self-rising flour, etc.? Even peanut butter is hard to come by and expensive. And chocolate chips you just cannot find at all—not even cocoa! So I will try my hand at either sugar or peanut butter cookies. Wish me luck because the very ancient gas stove has no way to know what temperature you turn the gas up to, and there is no baking racks inside it—just the bottom pan which we have started using as a rack. Ah, the joys of pioneer life.

You’d think with some extra time on our hands, we could write novels or come up with great philosophies, etc., but I tell you, my mind is so frayed just trying to decipher the adoption process and finagle everyday life that a bit of crocheting and listening to a book on tape are about all I can handle. And an occasional blog of course. : )

We didn’t realize how much we craved hearing their native tongue spoken until last night while standing in line at TGIF’s for a real treat of dinner out with an American menu we overheard American English being spoken. So we started a chat with the guys and gals and learned that they were from all over the United States here working for Peace Corps. On our long walk back to the apartment, all John and I could talk about was how good it was to hear English; we even knew exactly how many different speakers of English we’d conversed with—8. We also overheard two other couples there speaking English. Like I said, you have no idea how much better just hearing our home language spoken made us feel.