Work in Progress

Note- As I reread this, I'm realizing it's not the most upbeat of all posts. It's not meant to be a downer...I'm just being honest about some of the challenges I'm experiencing. So know that I still love it here, the people continue to surprise me with their wonderfulness, and I am learning very much every day.

I've decided that this week I am not going to tell you what I've done every day. Mostly because I can't really remember, but also because it probably wouldn't be very exciting to read. So I will give you some highlights, then try to summarize a bit.
Oksana, my Ukrainian friend who I worked with on Mackinac Island last summer came to visit from Kiev this weekend. She had a thirteen hour train ride Friday night, and I met her in Mukachevo on Saturday morning. The bus into Mukachevo was the first Ukrainian bus I had ever taken by myself, but everything went surprisingly well! I managed to catch the correct bus, pay the fare, get off in the right place, and find the bus station, where I met Oksana. This probably does not sound impressive, but for me it is great progress.
Oksana and I had a good morning exploring Mukachevo, including Palanok Castle on the outskirts of the city. It was so nice to see a familiar face, and have someone to laugh and joke with in English (not to mention a Ukrainian translator!). In the afternoon we caught the bus back to Nagydobony. Maybe here I should clarify what I mean by the term "bus." Many of the buses here are more like 12-passenger vans, converted into 22-passenger vans. And maybe "converted" isn't the correct term to use, because it's not like they add an extra wing or a second level. Such was the case with this particular bus. Oksana and I squatted in the back aisle, tumbling onto each other and the unhappy people around us for half an hour as our driver raced down the road. Maybe here I should explain what I mean when I use the term "road." Never mind...just don't imagine smooth blacktop. Anyway, in spite of being jostled around "like potatoes" (Oksana's words) and being unable to see where we were out any of the windows, we managed to get off at the bus stop by the orphanage.
Oksana of course loved the girls, and the girls loved Oksana. We shared birthday cake with them that Oksana had brought from Kiev, and went to church with them on Sunday. Oksana had never been to this part of Ukraine, and I think she was surprised by how Hungarian it is. We go by Hungarian time (very confusing), and most of the children did not understand Oksana when she spoke Ukrainian. On Sunday afternoon we caught the bus back to Mukachevo, saw more of the city, and walked to the train station, where I saw her off. Her visit was too short, but I am very grateful to her for coming...not to mention for bringing me peanut butter, which is pretty much nonexistent here.
Dr. Pal picked me up from the train station on Sunday and drove me to his home where I met his children David, Esther, and Dora, and had an amazing dinner. His wife Julika had prepared about twenty different Hungarian dishes, and I of course tried them all. When I thought I absolutely could not eat anything more, the family came into the dining room singing, with one-and-a-half birthday cakes. The half cake was left from Esther's birthday the day before, and the other cake was for me. I was so surprised, and touched by their thoughtfulness. I hadn't even mentioned that my birthday was this week. Somehow I managed to make room for a piece of cake, which was creamy, chocolatey, and everything a birthday cake should be.
I stayed with Dr. Pal and his family Sunday evening, then went to the Mukachevo clinic with he and Julika early Monday. I spent most of the morning with the nurses scheduling patients at the front desk. As soon as the clinic doors open in the morning, patients flood the reception area, mostly to schedule lab work and appointments. The nurse I was sitting with explained the computer system and scheduling procedures to me in great detail...in Ukrainian. Ukrainian, Russian, and Hungarian were constantly being spoken, and my head began to spin just with the effort of trying to figure out how to greet patents. Dobriy Dien? Jo Napot? Or how I should say thank you...Kosonom? Spasibo? Dyakuyu? I have a tremendous amount of respect for the people here who are able to shift between two, three, or sometimes four languages seemingly effortlessly. The two nurses at the desk scheduled about one hundred patients for lab wok that morning...and most of the time I had only a vague idea of what kind of tests they were having done.
During the past week I've continued to work with the preschools in the gypsy camps of Kisdobrony and Telek. There are about 10-15 children in each preschool, and most of my work there has consisted of teaching English colors and numbers, singing songs about Jesus, handing out bread with jam, checking for lice, and learning the Shoogie Boogie (Hungarian version of the Hokey Pokey). The kids like to hear English, and often shout "Angolu!" at me when they want to hear a song in English. I'm learning along with the kids, and now feel pretty confident about Hungarian and Ukrainian colors and numbers. We're still working on seasons and days of the week, but I'll keep you posted.
At the Kisdobrony camp Kati, one of the gypsy women who teaches at the preschool, usually invites me into her home for lunch. From what I've seen the house has no running water and only a wood-stove for heat and cooking, but Kati always fixes me something to eat, and introduces me to the numerous family members who pop in and out of her home. I've met her husband, sons, daughter-in-laws, and grandchildren, and they're such friendly people...always eager to communicate with me, and to laugh. Also, from what I've seen they can peel potatoes like nobody's business. For the great entertainment of all I once tried to help...I can't be sure, but I think Kati asked me something along the lines of whether we have potatoes in America.
I'm still spending most of my evenings with the girls here at the orphanage. Tuesday was my birthday, and they showered me with hugs, kisses, and gifts: teddy bears, slippers, a scarf, a pillow embroidered with my name, toothpaste, a banana, cow salt and pepper shakers, a stuffed antelope...you name it, I got it. They're such generous girls, and I feel so unworthy of their gifts.  I'm realizing more and more that loving them isn't as simple as I had thought it would be. There are 70 girls here...how do I choose who to spend time with? Or how do I justify ever spending an hour by myself? And I want so desperately to be able to talk with them...not just about their favorite colors and foods, but really talk...to hear their stories and their dreams, and to encourage them. I'm not sure that will ever be possible, but I recently found an English-Hungarian parallel New Testament, and I've been showing them Ephesians 1:16: "I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers." Love always perseveres, and I'm working on it. 
In some ways things here are getting easier. I'm figuring out the buses, adapting to Ukrainian currency, and adjusting to the food. And I'm finally beginning to feel a little bit useful, especially in the preschools. In other ways, things are more difficult. I've been here over two and a half weeks, and the novelty is beginning to wear off. This is my home for the next couple of months, and it's cold, very muddy, and isolated. I haven't seen a single American since I've been here, and I miss being able to talk to family and friends any time. I even miss talking politics! I tried to strike up a conversation about the election with one of the girls, and it went something like this:
Me: "America...president, ma (Hungarian for today)"
Girl: "Igen (yes), you birthday today. Present."
Not exactly what I was going for, but not her fault.
Things are also not all that I had expected. Although I love the gypsy children and the girls at the orphanage, I'm not doing or seeing quite as much medical work as I had hoped for. Somewhere lingering in the back of my mind is the question of how this is furthering my career. But this week as I was rereading some of my old journal entries I came across a quote I had copied from an article by Timothy Dalrymple: "Christians in American culture struggle with a sort of vocational schizophrenia. We want to make a difference while making money, to be remembered for serving the forgotten. We want to give our cake to the poor and sell it too." I think so often I am guilty of this...good actions with motives rooted in pride and selfishness. But that's not what I want my time in Ukraine to be about. I'm here to serve, and I firmly believe that God has placed me here. The true test of obedience is now. The work is not glamorous, and no one is here to pat me on the back, or say what a good thing I'm doing. In fact, I still often feel so inadequate and useless. But for now I will tramp through muddy roads, wipe four-year-old noses, learn as much Hungarian language as possible, Shoogie-Boogie like a fiend, and take each day as it comes...trying not to think about how it will all look on a resume someday. No guarantees...I'm human. But I'm working on it.

"Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what he does not have."
2 Corinthians 8:11-12

"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Matthew 6:33-34