Saturday August 14, 2010 - time to meet the older brother!!!

Happy Third Birthday Max! We are off to meet your brother, whom you haven't seen since February. The alarm goes off at four am and we stumble around to get ready. Our new driver Vladimir is waiting patiently outside as we get ready, pound down the instant coffee and climb into his car for our long journey to the Black Sea. "Vlad" is an older Russian man who drives like he is being followed by the KGB. The roads are worse than yesterday and he drives even faster. Once again the scenery consists of rolling hills filled with sunflowers and lush greenery. Natasha nods in and out of sleep as we fly across the southern Ukrainian landscape. A Russian, a Ukrainian, a Brit and a Yank...are we in a movie?

 

After about four hours of driving (it is still only 9:30 am!) we meet up with the other car. We are introduced to Ivan's social worker, an older woman named Irena; and his counsellor, a younger stocky man named Alexei, who appears to be the one male influence in his life. They are driven by a madman named Gregori, who we are having trouble keeping up with.

Our six hour journey turns into seven as we once again get lost a few times. At 12:30, our two cars arrive at the Ukrainian equivalent of Camp Michigania. It's a co-ed camp run by the state for orphaned and slightly disabled children as a place for them to go on holiday during the summer months. The drive down here passed through 100km of seaside beachfront and the entire area is bustling as it really is a summertime resort. I think everybody in the Ukraine comes to the Black Sea for their vacation. We are actually on a long peninsula that runs along the seashore southwest of Odessa. Very strange to see hundreds of people wandering along the road in their bathing suits carrying beach toys and inner tubes. With beach shops and ice cream stands it looks like it could be a California beach town!

These last 100 km from Odessa to 'Camp Ukrainia' takes almost two hours due to all the tourist traffic, not to mention the condition of the roads. The drivers are trying to make up time with the craziest driving you can imagine. I put BB King on the ipod and tell Emma not to watch the road, close your eyes and just listen to the King.

Okay - this is it! Time to meet Ivan. We saw a picture of him with his two little brothers taken last February, so we sort of know what he looks like, we all climb out of the two cars, glad to still be alive, stretch our tired bodies and walk into the camp area. We pass by a football field and many dorm buildings and facilities with children of all ages wandering around playing and pointing at the delegation of seven who have just invaded their tranquil little setting. Ivan's counsellor, Alexei, tells us that Ivan isn't aware of what's going on, but a visit from Alexei must mean that something is going on. We enter one of the dorms, climb the stairs and enter a fairly large dark play room (the Ukrainians never turn the lights on in the summer), where four or five boys are cleaning up and returning chairs to their rightful position. I am scanning the boys trying to determine which is Ivan (Emma spots him immediately) but I can't quite pick him out from the photo until the other boys leave the room. Ivan is invited to sit down and he is told by Alexei and his social worker Irena that we are here to adopt him and take him to America to live with his two brothers, quite a lot to take in for this young eleven year old boy!
I am standing there next to Emma and am feeling completely overwhelmed by what I see. "Vanya", what he likes to call himself, is the most beautiful sweet little boy I have ever seen. He has light hair, bleached by the sun, big blue eyes and a smile that would warm the coldest of hearts. A tiny frame all tanned from the hot summer sun, surprisingly handsome and quite the gentleman! He immediately warms to us after a few shy moments (and shock I would imagine!) as we shake his hand and show him pictures of our visit to see his brothers. His face lights up when he sees Max and Dennis with us; he obviously loves and misses his little brothers.
We show him pictures of our house, his bedroom and bathroom ("wow, my own room!") and of course his big sisters and the rest of our family/friends from our wedding pictures.
Amazingly, he starts to call me Papa as if he really thinks I am his father. He has just gone through the trauma of finding out that his papa wasn't his real father (through blood tests and court battles), which is what put him and his brothers in the orphanages over a year ago. This is why he isn't available until October, because it only became evident that the man trying to keep him (and his younger sister) was not his biological father, thereby losing all rights to Vanya and of course Max and Dennis (who he knew weren't his). Truly a sad story - one told many many times all over the world. But what luck for us! We have arrived just in time to save these young boys from a life of who-knows-what, and to join them back together as a family.
We are both amazed at how polite and well mannered he is. We hand him his watch and a really cool multi-flag football (apparently he loves to play football), which we bought on the drive down. He loves the ball and immediately puts the watch on his right wrist, beaming with joy about his new family.

 

After about 45 minutes in this hot, dark and muggy room, we all head out to get some lunch. Vanya directs us to a little cafe where the seven of us, plus Vanya, sit outside for a huge meal. Our crazy drivers and Alexei eat enough food to feed an army (all our treat of course), while Vanya borrows my camera to take dozens of pictures. He immediately knows how to use the camera (very smart boy) including the play-back options, and takes pride in every picture he takes - showing me each picture saying 'papa look!' with those beautiful eyes and happy little smile.

Wow - I am immediately attached to this young man - who knew? One of the drivers joked that I must have visited the Ukraine about 12 years ago because the boy looks just like me, except for the blue eyes of course. Hmmmm, where was I in the summer of '98?
And get this - he has the same birthday as my Mom; April 27th. How freaky is that? He was born on April 27, 1999 - my Mom's 70th birthday.

 

About 3pm we finish lunch (they really only eat one meal a day and they eat big!), I pay the bill - less than $50 for all eight of us, and we head back to Camp Ukrainia. Vanya loves his new football with all of the World Cup flags on it. His favorite team is FC Barcelona and he is quite pleased that Spain won the World Cup last month. I grab the ball from him and invite him out to the football field to kick the ball around. He really is quite talented, with excellent ball handling skills - just needs a bit of meat on those skinny legs. He looks exactly like I did when I was eleven, skinny legs with knobby knees. After about thirty minutes in the hot sun, we all head back to his dorm, passing his football backward and forward to each other down the path. He is all smiles as "Papa and Son" bond with each passing minute.

 

He takes us up to his room where his five room mates are all napping (six single beds crammed into one tiny room), and also takes us down the corridor to meet his three girlfriends, Natasha, Natasha and Kristina. He is indeed a ladies' man as they all hug him and look at the pictures he has taken from my camera hanging around his neck. They know that they will soon be saying goodbye to their sweet Vanya in the next few months.

Unbeknownst to us we are being observed and evaluated by Alexei and Irena as future parents to Vanya. And after three to four hours interfacing with him they give their approval and we agree to adopt Vanya. Irena, his social worker tells Vanya that he needs to sit down and write two letters, one stating his agreement to be adopted by us and the other giving permission for us to adopt his brothers. Pretty serious stuff for an eleven year old boy who only met us four hours ago! We offer to write a similar promise letter to Vanya, although it is not required, stating that we agree to adopt him and his brothers. Emma writes the Ukrainian words as Natasha translates. Alexei is quite impressed and agrees to hold onto it for Vanya and remind him (especially when he gets sad or lonely) that we are coming back soon to get him and his brothers. As Alexei reads the letter to Vanya, you can see him smile as he hears the words that we promise to love him.

 

As time approaches for us to make the 6 hour drive back to Kirovograd, he asks me something in Ukrainian (he has very limited English), but I can't understand. Emma hears the word 'friends' so we think he wants to go play with his friends. We ask Natasha to translate and he shyly asks if we can walk to the camp store to buy something for his friends and brothers. We stroll down to the store, kicking his new football back and forth to each other. He is like a kid in a candy store as he picks out stickers for his girlfriends, cookies and candies for his mates and even a few things for us to take back to his brothers. For himself he picks out a few novelty items and a dried fish to eat later. I hand him 100 UAH (about $13) to pay for it himself. He gets 5 UAH in change, looks at me with that cheeky grin and asks 'for me?'. Yes, of course son, put it in your pocket...

We walk back to his dorm, side by side with the football while the women walk behind us watching. It is five thirty and we need to go. Vanya has one week left here at camp, and he invites us to stay for the week. Sadly we tell him we must go but that we will return in October to pick him up. So sad that we just can't bring all three back with us, merely because of some silly bureaucratic requirement. But rules are rules so we tell him we will get his room ready, buy them clothes and toys and then return to get all three of them in about six weeks.

A few more pictures, hugs and tears are shared as we all pile into our two cars as we say goodbye to Vanya. We watch him as he proudly walks back to his camp, clutching his football and his gifts, surrounded by all of his mates - most of whom are happy for him and hopeful that someone, someday will come for them.

The drive home is as chaotic as the drive down, however somehow we are able to sleep through most of it. Vladimir gets us home safe and sound about 11:30 pm. What a long and wonderful and crazy eighteen and a half hours. As we approach our little one bedroom flat, I can't seem to get this one song out of my head - remember the old 60s TV show, 'My Three Sons'?

Na na na naaaa, na na na naaaaa - na na na naaaa, na na na na - naya-naya-naya-na...

Goodnight, Vanya, Max and 'David'.