Ukraine

Shortly after we arrived in Dubai we caught wind of our ward’s planned temple trip to Kiev, Ukraine the end of October. We talked it over and discussed it a few times, thinking it might be a cool thing to do. As it got closer I started feeling like we should go, the temple was calling and so was Eastern Europe. As it turned out, it had been about 30 days since we’d gone to Oman, so the kids and I needed to leave the country again as well. I took it as sign.

We arrived and were freezing the moment we left the sliding doors of the airport. And if truth is to be told, we didn’t really warm up until we entered back into that airport 5 days later. We have officially gone soft.

I was tickled by all the fall leaves. You couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face. All the Soviet bloc housing though, was much more sobering. It just looked cold and dark and terribly unwelcoming.

We would spend the first 2 and half days living and breathing the temple. We stayed in the temple patron housing, right on the temple grounds, making it convenient for quick kid swaps between sessions. We swapped with Toria and John a few times too so we could attend the temple as a couple. It had been a long time since I had last pulled out my recommend and ending the drought in Ukraine was special, for a few reasons. One, our experience in Dubai up to this point had been wonderful. We were seeing new things, meeting new people, living a new life and while the photo’s and Instagram updates portrayed it as a glamorous highlife, it had been tempered with challenges. Life abroad is a good life, a rich and exciting life, but it is hard at times. It is hard to be away from the familiar, to feel like you are constantly navigating new waters, and it’s a brute to watch your children grapple for comfort during transition and to be a single parent 4-5 days a week. I was seeking some peace and some reassurance from my Heavenly Father that I could do this. And in the temple, I found it. As it always does, it renewed, strengthened and clarified by purpose and priority. Two, it was lovely to revolve our days around temple attendance. Real life never got in the way to distract from the spirit of where we had just been or what we had just done. Life was about worship for 2 and a 1/2 solid days. Three, it was remarkable to witness the sacrifice others made to attend the temple. One of the loveliest things about staying in the patron housing was that we could really interact with the Russians and Ukrainians in a way that we couldn’t have staying in a hotel. There was a large communal kitchen were everyone would cook. We would pull out our bread and Nutella, the Russians would pull out their potatoes, onions and would cook up borsht. There was lots of sign language and hand gesturing going on as the language barrier was huge. Aside from me being chastised no less than 6 times that my children needed to wear socks and Wade receiving the slit throat sign in regards to his Diet Coke, we were able to pick up on a few more things. Like, most of them had traveled over 30 hours, by train, to attend the temple for 48 hours. That they had saved for who knows how long to make that trip. That they came from small villages in rural Russia where opportunity is a fable to worship the Lord their God. Toria and I snuck into the baptistry one afternoon to do baptisms with Olga and Nastia, two young women who had come from a afar (with dozens and dozens of family names they had researched) to do baptisms. As I sat on the bench, watching them get dipped, and then watched a sweet older gentleman, who couldn’t have been less than 70 climb into the font, I couldn’t help but be overcome with emotion. Life has not been kind to these people. They work very hard, for very little, in the very cold. All their lives. I had wondered how long that sweet old man had waited for this moment. For the chance to be baptized for his ancestors, for the chance to feel the spirit that only the temple provides. I wondered how long he had been a member and felt so happy for him, that in a country that seemed so dark and cold, he had the light and warmth of the Gospel. In the endowment sessions, I would often times turn off my head set and listen in Russian. I loved hearing what the others in the room were listening too and that even though I couldn’t understand the words, I understood the feeling and the purpose of what we were all doing. We attended Sacrament meeting Sunday morning and one of the temple patrons got up to speak. He and his wife were from Eastern Idaho, called to Ukraine on a temple mission. He said the following, “As I was leaving the temple yesterday, I was buttoning up my coat, and shivering for the short 50 yard walk to my house, I looked to the temple entrance and saw several Russian women bundled up. They wore their warm coats and their scarves over their heads. They were heading to the bus station, where they would take a bus to the train station, where they would then hop on a train for 30 hours taking them home. I shook my head and said to myself, “Stewart, you don’t know sacrifice.” Nor do I Stewart. I don’t know what it is to sacrifice like that for the faith I call my own. I’d like to think I do, but after seeing these lovely Russian people, I am sure that I don’t. I am intensely grateful however, for the opportunity I had to witness it. A portion of my testimony will forever be changed because of it.

A glimpse into the patron housing courtesy of Tessa. I didn’t find these until I downloaded them to the computer. I love them. Those three of her feet will make my laugh every time I look at them for the rest of my life. See those bunk beds? Bode fell one them while I was in the shower one morning. Scared me to death! Wade was in a session and I had to round up John and some missionaries to give him a blessing. He was inconsolable, I was nervous he had a concussion and was desperate to not have to take him to the hospital. Fortunately, the little guy was recovered just fine.

Sweet Olga. She was SO darling with Tessa. Loved her to pieces and wanted to know where she was at all times if she wasn’t in sight. She came in to kiss her goodnight every night and said goodbye about 6 times. Bless her heart.

Wade turned 34 in Kiev. We bought a chocolate cake at the store. Or so we thought. Turns out it was blueberry.

After spending a few days in the temple we took to the streets of Kiev for some sightseeing. I will probably tell you no less than 5 more times that it was freezing. I can’t even imagine what this place feels like in February. I would legitimately die.

Bubs was taken with the gas masks. And the tanks. We got him a little handmade Soviet tank, it’s so darling and so fitting seeing as how he was mesmerized every time we saw one. Which, was a lot. Ukraine is clearly a country whose history is riddled with war.

We visited the Chernobyl Museum one afternoon, that was sobering. The ill effects and death count is still being determined as many cancer cases in the region are being blamed on the disaster.

Maybe in my other life I would have been an architect. Actually, probably not. Way to much math. But I am a sucker for a cool building and great architecture and Kiev had lots. Plus, the fact that they are SO old makes them all the cooler. It’s hard for my American history mind to wrap itself around how truly old these places and buildings are. Amazing, really.

Igor, our driver and tour guide extraordinaire took us to traditional Ukrainian fare one night. Smoked fat? Beef tongue? Jel pork? If you could have seen the fear in my eyes… Fear not. I found some dumplings.

Charmed, charmed, charmed by all the Russian Orthodox Cathedrals. And this boy.

The weather played nice one afternoon when we stumbled upon this park next to Saint Sophia Square. Collecting those leaves, our children running amongst the Maples and Aspens overlooking the Dnieper River. It was as Igor referred to it in his thick accent, “Like miracle to them”. It was to me too Igor. Sometimes I have to pinch myself.

Prettiest bundled blondie I ever saw.

If we were a family, this would be our Christmas card. No?

The one on the left? Slightly intimidating. The guy on the right? Couldn’t be if he tried.

We came upon a large political rally one night. The Ukrainian elections were being held while we there. Which Igor would later tell us were rigged. Like so many Eastern European governments, Ukraine’s is riddled with corruption and extortion. After a lengthy conversation with him in the van one night  (I was holding sleeping children, everyone else was inside grocery shopping, I’m still obsessed with political conversations regarding other countries…) I once again thanked my lucky stars to be an American.

The chocolate factory…if you think we got out of there without one of those chocolate shoes. Then you don’t know Tessa. And you have a stronger will than I.

Charmed by the flower stands in the subway tunnels. That we would actually walk through JUST to warm up. And these darling little coffee trucks. Never have I wanted so badly to drink coffee.

The War Memorial and Museum. I thought of my brother a lot here. He would have died and gone to heaven at this place as a little boy. It was neat to walk through, but once again, it was SO cold and I couldn’t help but think that it seemed a fate worse than death to have to climb into one of those jeeps, with no heat and rumble along in the wet mud, through a war. My respect for armed forces in this time, regardless of origin, increased about 10 fold.

We asked for hot chocolate everywhere we went. And despite our desperate attempts to hand sign what we meant, this is what we got. Every time. Hot chocolate. Literally, hot chocolate. That line from the Polar Express kept repeating itself in my head, “We drank hot cocoa as thick and rich as melted chocolate bars.”

We braved the Subway and the Ukrainian language one morning to find the Euro Cup Soccer Stadium. That was an adventure!

This was our view of Tessa for much of the trip. I thought it’d be fun to get her a little camera so she could take her own pictures and then get them developed when we got back. She loved it and had fun with it. But I dare say, I’ve never seen so many photos of cars driving by blurred by the car window.

Our apartment in downtown Kiev. We went through the same company we used when in Rome. It was a great little spot. I love staying in these apartments, I feel like it adds to the authenticity of the experience.

And this is Igor. Isn’t he darling? He thought the fact we called Bode, Bubba, was THE funniest thing. I quote (add thick Russian accent): “Bub-bah? What is this? This is funny name!” And so he called him Bub-bah the whole rest of the trip. Igor was instrumental in our experience. I haven’t traveled anywhere before where I couldn’t get by on simple English. Or fake my way through the language of the country I was in. But Ukraine was a different story, Igor was a huge help and he took us to some great spots. In addition, he was great to answer any questions we had about Ukraine, it’s history, it’s culture. We all just loved him! Ukraine wasn’t on our top 10 list of places to travel too, and we probably wouldn’t have ever made it there had we not had the temple trip tacked on, but I am so glad we went and am so happy we got to see it. I feel like I learned a lot about that area of the world and a lot about it’s people and history. On our ride back to the airport we were talking to Igor about the weather. He said that they wouldn’t see the sun again until about April or May. I asked him if he ever got depressed. “What is this? What is depressed?” “Like gloomy, or sad feeling.” “Oh. No! I don’t have time.” We laugh, to which he responds, “What?! I am serious. I just work and then I go home late and work again next day. I do not have time to be gloomy.” There was a lesson to be learned there for me in that moment. One, he WAS serious. Those sweet people (whose reputation for a hard exterior and serious demeanor, I know understand and appreciate) truly don’t have time to wallow in gloom and self pity. While their circumstances certainly would allow for it, they don’t. They work right through it. And two, for heavens sake, if they are working through it, in much colder and much less comfortable circumstances, than I should too. So here’s to Ukraine and to the end of gloom and self pity!