Joyful All Ye Nations Rise

Today I don't feel at all like writing. But I have a feeling this week will be so busy I won't have a chance. So I'll try to get you up to speed...

I spent the week of December 18th-25th with the Oroszi family. Tuesday I went to the clinic in Mukachevo, then helped with Anna Oroszi's English classes on Wednesday and Thursday. She teaches grades one through nine, and in the two days I was visiting I think we saw every grade except the first. Besides wanting her students to practice English with a native speaker, Anna wanted them to realize that native speakers do actually exist, and English is not some sort of dead language. The older grades had been given the prep work of writing out questions to ask me...I don't think I've ever spoken so much about my favorite colors and animals in my life. I also gave some of the older grades a little speech about how we celebrate Christmas in America, and played word games with the younger grades. Sometimes these games weren't so easy. In one my job was to think of different words, and the kids had to decide whether the words were associated with Christmas or not. The only Christmas words I could think of on the spot were things like "tinsel" and "mistletoe." Not exactly in the vocabulary of fourth grade non-native English speakers. The children were sweet, though...eager to learn and to know my name so they could find me on Facebook! Kids these days...
On Friday Anna and I went shopping in Mukachevo, and bought our train tickets to Kiev. On Saturday morning we caught a marshrutka to the mountains for a weekend of hiking and picture-taking. Anna's boyfriend Sasha is from a village in the mountains, and was guiding a group of photographers on a trek. The same group apparently does a hike like this annually, but this year us girls were allowed to tag along. When our marshrutka arrived at the village where we were meeting Sasha, a man was lying on the ground semi-conscious, the side of his face torn and bloody. Nothing like a warm welcome. Don't get excited, though, my nursing skills were not required at all...Sasha and another guy who was with our group are both doctors, and they stabilized the man (and protected him from his intoxicated friends who were trying to help) until an ambulance arrived. Then they wiped the blood off their hands (and their first aid kit, and the car...), and we set off to buy some groceries. Business as usual.
We stayed in cabins in the mountains, and on Saturday evening hiked to a nearby waterfall, now frozen. It was beautiful, and although the professionals scoffed at our amateur cameras, I think Anna and I took some pretty nice pictures. We ate dinner at a little restaurant associated with the cabin complex, and I tried saslik, a traditional Hungarian pork meat marinated and skewered like shish kebab. I also tasted some cow stomach, which I think is a Ukrainian specialty. It was chewy and in some kind of white stew form...stomach chowder?
Sunday was our long hike...about four hours up to one of the mountain peaks. Maybe I haven't missed enough buses lately, because by hour three my legs wanted to resign. There was almost no snow at the base of the mountain, but as we hiked the scenery seemed to progress from fall to winter. Due to fog we didn't always have the best scenic views, but the frosty trees and our immediate surroundings were still gorgeous. I think the low visibility added to the fun when we approached the peak, where there was no trees, brush, or horizon...only white. A snowy desert. On an incline.
Sunday night Anna and I hitched a ride back to her house, where I spent Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day. We decorated their Christmas tree, went to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day church services, and received many groups of caroling children on Christmas Eve. The "angels" also left us presents under the tree on Christmas Eve, including a warm sweater for me! And bacon chips!
On the afternoon of Christmas Day I caught the bus back to the orphanage, where my joy in seeing the girls again was shadowed (not overshadowed, just shadowed) by the knowledge that I had to leave them again the next day. The morning of the 26th Gitka's husband Sasha picked me up to stay with their family for a couple of days. The days with Gitka and her family (Sasha and their two boys) were truly restful...no pig slaughter this time, just Hungarian movies and old home videos. I was so tired on the afternoon of the 26th that I could hardly keep my eyes open, so Gitka insisted I take a nap. I felt a little ashamed...but it was wonderful.
The morning of the 27th we walked into the Kisdobrony gypsy camp and gave several injections, mostly flu shots. Nothing like making kids cry to spread a little holiday cheer! They recovered quickly, though. That evening we drove into Mukachevo for the annual New Year party at the clinic. It was quite a shin-dig, with lots of Ukrainian jokes about doctors (from what I understood). I was reunited with the Oroszis, as well as Judit, my favorite English-learning Ukrainian nurse. That evening Sasha and Gitka dropped me back off at the orphanage, and I spent the rest of the night and the next day playing with the girls and trying to organize things before the imminent week of craziness.
Oksana (my fiend from Kiev) arrived in Mukachevo on Saturday the 29th, and we've spent the last couple of days with the girls. We have a few new Ukrainian girls at the orphanage, and I think it's been nice for them to speak Ukrainian with Oksana...most of the girls here speak only Hungarian.
Tomorrow morning Oksana and I will catch a train to the mountains to ski for a couple of days, then we'll be in Uzhgorod for one day, then in L'viv for a day. L'viv is supposed to be a beautiful old city, and I'm excited to finally see it.
I know this isn't the most exciting or thoughtful blog post. There's so much more I could say...about the terrifying tree swing in the mountains, singing English Christmas songs on the bus, entertaining carolers, or visiting homes in the gypsy camp. But I'm tired, tomorrow morning will come too soon, and I think I've covered the main points...if nothing else I have a journal of events for myself. So I will close with this thought...

The Hungarian version of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" is also a popular song for the advent season here. And this year I heard the Christmas story in Luke chapter two that my dad always reads aloud read instead in Hungarian by Pal Oroszi. In some ways the familiar melody and tradition of reading the Luke passage together made me miss my family...but mostly it was a comforting reminder that my family back home and my Hungarian family here were united in celebrating our Savior's birth.

"Bid thou our sad divisions cease,
And be thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice, Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee oh Israel."

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord."
Luke 2:11

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and much love from Transcarpathia!

Numbering the Days

The bad news is, this post might lack creativity and some general writing skills. Sorry...it was written over a period of about a week, and might not flow so well. The good news is,  there's a lot of information here! Or maybe that is also bad news for you. That's okay too.

Where to begin...Let's go back to Friday November 30th, a couple of days before my last post on giving thanks. No actually, the afternoon of the 29th would be better. That afternoon I found out that there would be no class at the preschool the following day...a day off! I decided to use it to visit the Nehemiah Center, a Christian nonprofit and language center in Uzhgorod. I had stumbled upon the center's website online and offered to visit if they could use the help of a native English speaker. They invited me to come anytime...so Friday I again boarded Ishtvan's marshrutka, but instead of getting off at the gypsy camps made the complete one hour (approximately 20 mile?) journey to Uzhgorod, this region's capital. It was my first time traveling to Uzhgorod by bus and in the daytime. When we arrived Istvan informed me that the normal return buses would not be operating that afternoon. Thank you, Istvan. Good to know. My options for getting home were to leave with Istvan in half an hour, or to take a different bus to the city of Chop, and then another bus to Nagydobrony. I decided to brave the buses. But first I would have to brave the taxis...
When I spoke with the director of the Nehemiah Center the evening before, she had promised to send a car for me when I arrived in Uzhgorod, since I was unfamiliar with the city, and the center is quite a distance from the downtown area. I arrived in Uzhorod earlier than anticipated, and wandered for awhile. Uzhgorod is a bit bigger than Mukachevo, and feels more sprawling and industrial. I crossed the river that runs through the city, and called the director of the Nehemiah Center at the time we had arranged. No answer. I waited awhile and called again. Still no answer. And then I realized Hungarian time had once again made a fool of me. I had completely forgotten about Ukrainian time, and had called the director an hour late. Rats! So much for first impressions...
Tetiana the director eventually called me back, and we decided it would be easiest for me to take a cab to the center. I flagged down a taxi, handed my phone to the driver so Tetiana could give him an address, and arrived at Nehemiah a few minutes later. That afternoon Tetiana gave me a tour of the center and explained some of their work. In addition to teaching English and German classes they host conferences and summer camps, teach a Montessori-style preschool, and help to care for abandoned babies in the Uzhgorod hospital. They also operate a hotel/guesthouse and restaurant that generate some income for their projects. Talk about a mix of everything! During my visit Tetiana invited me to stay for a few days to help with classes and visit the babies in the hospital. I tentatively agreed, and we planned on the second week in December. In spite of the numerous taxi and bus transfers, the trip back to Nagydobrony was relatively uneventful...almost easy. A Christmas miracle!
The next day I attended a Christian medical conference hosted at the orphanage and organized in part by Dr. Pal. There were about sixty people at the conference, mostly doctors and medical students, with speakers from Reformed, Catholic, and Greek Orthodox congregations. There was Ukrainian and Hungarian translation...I'd like to say that my Hungarian and Ukrainian are good enough now that between the two I understood nearly everything...but I don't think they used "Nice to meet you" or "Is this the right bus to Mukachevo?" very often. My Hungarian must be improving, though, because one doctor that I sat with at dinner told Jolika that he felt bad for not speaking with me earlier...he didn't realize that I knew Hungarian so well. Who knew learning "thank you," "a little" and "good" could be so effective?
I spent all of the next week with the Oroszis, staying in their home and going to the Mukachevo clinic with them every day. They are so kind, and I loved being with their family. The food there was amazing, and Jolika tried to teach me some traditional Hungarian recipes. My potato peeling skills are improving. On Wednesday, after we had all carefully cleaned our boots, St. Mikolas came and filled them with candy and presents. He brought me chocolate, tangerines, jewelry, a hat, a scarf...so many good things, and it was so much fun to celebrate the holiday with the family. The presents continued when later in the week Olena, a neighbor of the Oroszis, made a surprise visit and brought me beautiful doilies and decorative cloths that she had made by hand. I had only met her once the night before, and was surprised and touched by her gifts.
The week in the clinic was tiring (early mornings) but very good. I was able to rotate through different areas including reception, phlebotomy, EKGs, CT scans, and endoscopy. CT scans might have been my favorite. Judit, the nurse, actually let me program and do the scans. Judit is also studying English, and we had such a great time practicing languages. Her native language is Ukrainian but she knows Russian and Hungarian as well, so she could understand my strange mix of languages.
I spent the weekend with the Oroszis as well, attending a Christmas party with them on Saturday, and church with them on Sunday. I left them to go back to Nagydobrony on Monday, but plan to see them again soon.
It was so nice to see my girls when I returned to the orphanage on Monday. I was told that some of them cried on Saturday and Sunday when I still hadn't returned from Mukachevo. I had been excited for the following week at the Nehemiah Center in Uzhgorod, but after returning to the orphanage it was hard to leave the girls again.
I returned to the Nehemiah Center on Tuesday, where my main activities were helping with the preschool during the mornings and afternoons, and with English classes in the evenings. I was also able to make a brief visit to the babies in the hospital.
I seem to be becoming quite an experienced preschool teacher. Nehemiah's preschool is in the process of implementing a Montessori-style, very hands-on and structured curriculum.
I'll try to put a link here if you're wondering about Montessori: http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montessori_education#section_4.
From what I understand the staff at Nehemiah are sort of practicing and developing the new teaching method with their own children and a few others, with the hopes of someday expanding their methods within the community.  
The preschool was very small (four or five children), quiet, and orderly. The kids were from Ukrainian families, and it was fun for me to hear little kids speaking Ukrainian. I like the Hungarian language more and more every day, but there's something I love about the sound of Ukrainian and Russian. Two of the older children also spoke English well, and it was nice (but also strange) to be understood so easily.
It's funny, because when I was with my preschoolers in the gypsy camps, I thought that the most beautiful children in the world must all have dark skin, black hair, and big brown eyes. This week, though, my Ukrainian children all had blonde hair and blue eyes, and were every bit as beautiful. The kids in Uzhgorod may be blonde and a bit quieter than the children in the gypsy camps, but in many ways they are the same: eager to love, to sing, to feed me imaginary lunch, to pretend to be dogs...
So much to say, and not enough time...I'll try to wrap up the rest of my time in Uzhgorod. English classes were mostly with students about my age or older, which was fun. In one food-themed exercise I tried to describe tacos to the students, and they thought they sounded like the same thing as pizza. They REALLY need some Mexican restaurants over here. Midway through the week the water broke (something about a sudden geyser?), so we had no showers, no flushing toilets, and no coffee. I had my first salo, a Ukrainian delicacy that is pretty much slabs of pig fat. And I don't mean bacon. I mean pure, white fat. The med students I was with described it as the compressed product of pig liposuction. Thanks guys, sounds delicious. "You don't eat fat in America?" they asked when they saw my hesitation. "Not like this," I replied. "Well what do you do with all your fat then? Export it to Ukraine?" Nope...Crisco.
I made one brief visit to the hospital, where I saw the abandoned babies the center helps to care for. I don't know the full story of these children, just that child abandonment seems to be fairly common here. There were three babies at the hospital when I was there, probably around a couple weeks old. I held them and helped change them, and couldn't help but think of my girls at the orphanage, some of whom were similarly abandoned at birth. One of the babies had no first name, and I thought of my Szila, who told me she was named by the Ukrainian doctor at the hospital where she was born, not by her mother or father.
On Thursday night I gave up my room to a group of 70 children who arrived at the hotel, and camped out in the office with a couple of other staff members. Getting back to the orphanage on Friday required the same old taxi, bus, marshrutka routine, but this time involved lots of waiting outside in frigid temperatures. The excitement of the marshrutka ride almost made up for it though. I'm not sure what was going on but everyone was unusually jolly...even the people sitting on laps who had to duck down when we passed police.
Saturday I attended my first pig slaughter with Gika's family, but thankfully I missed the actual slaughter part. It was fun to spend time with her family, and I did help with the meat processing, which was...well...interesting. At one point they eagerly handed me what I'm pretty sure was a lightly salted raw pigs ear. Even the salo hadn't prepared me for this, but I didn't think about it...chew, swallow, repeat. Later a guest stopped by and rolled part of the pig skin and ate it raw. This place is crazy.
Sunday I attended not one, not two, but three gypsy church services with Sandor, the pastor and local missionary to the gypsies. The services were interesting, and I especially loved the singing. The gypsies have such strong, beautiful voices. The churches were usually full, and at the smallest service we had about 35 people packed into a twelve foot by twelve foot room.  It was fun to see the children in the camps again, especially those in Telek that I've spent so much time with. My littlest Sabolcs came and sat next to me and started doing the hand motions for "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," a song I taught the preschoolers when I was desperately trying to think of something new to keep their attention. We had only done the song one day, over two weeks ago. He's four and he remembered it. My heart about melted. I would rather he remember "Jesus Loves Me" or "King of Kings," but it's something...
So. Wow. I think you are caught up on my life. Today I went Christmas shopping and got some much-needed rest. Tomorrow I head back to Mukachevo for the week to be at the clinic and visit Anna's English classes. Have I mentioned Anna before? She's the oldest daughter of Dr. Pal and Jolika, teaches English, and is really, really great. This weekend I'm supposed to go on a mountain excursion with her, and next week is Christmas! I can't believe it.
It feels like I just arrived in Ukraine...I love these people and this place, and I'm just beginning to adjust to being here. Yes, I still miss my family and friends. Today I felt horribly homesick, and being away for Christmas will be the hardest. But I also don't want to leave Ukraine. In mid-January I will meet my sister in Turkey for a couple of weeks, and when I return I will only have a few days to pack and to say goodbye. So God-willing, I have one more month here. One more month of  marshrutkas, cabbage, Hungkrainiaussian language, fat slab snacks, time-zone confusion, gypsy songs, preschool smiles, orphan kisses...One month doesn't seem like enough. But I plan to make the most of it.

"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

"May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us- yes, establish the work of our hands."

-Psalm 90:12&17

Giving Thanks

I seem to be getting behind on posting...but last week was a holiday, so I think taking a week off was acceptable.

Since writing that sentence I've been staring at my screen for half an hour, trying to figure out how to tell you about the past couple of weeks in a somewhat organized fashion. I think a daily account is out of the question. So instead, in the continuing spirit of Thanksgiving, I will tell you about some of the people and things I am feeling especially grateful for right now. So here they are, in no particular order.

People and things I am feeling especially grateful for right now:

Zsuzsa
I'm sure I've mentioned Zsuzsa before...but just to refresh your memories, she's the local Hungarian-Ukrainian-English-Dutch-speaking wonder-woman that I first met when she was doing some translation work for a visiting group from Holland. I occasionally see her at the gypsy preschool in Telek, where her sister teaches. She's also rescued me from the side of the road multiple times.
On Saturday the 17th, she let me tag along to her English class for Hungarian speakers in Beregovo, a city about a one-hour drive from Nagydobrony. The class itself was fun...it was wonderful to be around English speakers my own age, and interesting to observe their learning process. The teacher was excited to have a native English speaker present, and often called on me to help with pronunciation and activities. I think I was usually helpful, but sometimes...For example, when she asked me to explain to the class the difference between "I will do something" and "I'm going to do something," I didn't have much to say. Did I miss that day in middle school English? I'm not sure I've ever thought about that in my life. And then she asked me to demonstrate the shifting stress in words by pronouncing "advertise" and "advertisement..." Wait, what? Oh, British English..."AdVERtisement."
But enough of that tangent. In addition to the class I greatly enjoyed spending time with Zsuzsa, hearing about her past experiences, her current work, and her hopes for the future. Inspired by the plethora of Dutch people that volunteer in this area of Ukraine, she spent a year volunteering in The Netherlands, and is now employed by a Dutch organization that works in the area. I am grateful for her kindness and generosity, her English skills, and also her uncanny ability to show up in remote villages where I have missed the bus. 

Learning how to say "sit down" in Hungarian
This one is pretty self-explanatory. I spend a lot of time with preschoolers...

The names (and children) "Anita!" and "Sabolcs"
I know you probably can't fully appreciate this. But bear with me here. These names are the best. First you should know that the Hungarian version of the name Anita is only distantly related to the English version. Stress is all on the first syllable instead of the second, and it should nearly always be approached as an exclamation : "AH-ni-ta!" It's almost okay when Anitas are mischievous, just because it's so much fun to yell their name. Maybe because they're accustomed to having their name shouted so often, the three Anitas that I know here are very feisty, and (although difficult to manage in the preschool) some of my favorites.
The name Sabolcs (pronounced Sah-boach) is best to say when you need to express consternation. This is usually done by stressing and drawing out the first syllable (SAAAH-boach). It's just as fun as shouting "Anita!" and apparently consternation also breeds feistiness, because the two boys I know by this name can hold their own against the Anitas quite well.

Great food finds
I did not have any Thanksgiving turkey, but I did discover a great chicken sandwich at the market in Nagydobrony, and an amazing bakery in Mukachevo this week. Also, for better or for worse, I've discovered Ukrainian chocolates. There's one in particular that I think I could be developing an addiction to. Maybe the picture of a poppy on the wrapper is supposed to be a warning...

Technology
Really, I am grateful for all of you...but I am also grateful for the technology that allows us to keep in touch, and for being able to talk to my family for the first time in a month via Skype calls last week. I don't usually like to talk on the phone much, but I think I talked with (or maybe talked to) my sister for about an hour and a half. Thanks Beth :)

Dedicated postal workers (and Grannies) of the world
I got my first mail this week! Two cards from Granny, in my hands nine days after the postmark dates. Not bad at all. Some of you have asked for my address, so now that it's been tested, I'll post it here. Any mail is much appreciated! Pictures or fun things I can share with the girls are especially nice, but I'm not picky.

Irgalmas Samaritánus Reformatus Gyermekotthon
Nagydobrony
Csongor Út 119
UA- 89463
UKRAINA

My girls
I am still very grateful for the time spent with my girls here at the orphanage. They've begun asking me about 87 times a day what they should give me for Christmas: "Cara! What you present?" I'm just wondering what I will give all of them (if you have any good craft ideas please send them my way!). Last night we drew Christmas pictures. The scene with the shepherds and angels turned out well, but somehow Mary ended up being green and baby Jesus developed a case of chicken pox. Oh well...Jesus very well could have had chicken pox at some point, right?

Jolika Oroszi
Words cannot express how grateful I am for this woman. I've mentioned her before but in case you've forgotten, she's the wife of Pal Oroszi, the doctor who arranged for me to come to Ukraine (and another person I'm very thankful for). Jolika is also a nurse, and when I'm at the clinic in Mukachevo I am something like her shadow, except slower and more awkward than a normal shadow. She helps me to understand the community and how the clinic operates, while teaching me nursing skills and Russian. She goes out of her way to speak English with me, her fourth...no...I think maybe her fifth language. She made me a birthday cake and let me practice drawing her blood (but not at the same time), and puts up with the inconvenience of having an awkward shadow so gracefully.

There are many other people and things here that I am grateful for, but I think I will wrap this post up. Most of all, I am thankful that "neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." I'm thousands of miles away from most of you this holiday season, but
the ultimate source of my thankfulness and of my joy in celebrating Christmas is unchanged. His love is undeterred by long flights, Ukrainian buses, poor Wi-Fi connections, and my own flaws and inconsistencies. And for that, I give thanks.