Birthday Blues and Other Ramblings

Today is Sharon's birthday. As such, I am handling the blogging duties today while she sits on the life raft and plays Zuma on her cell phone. I tell you so far today its been nothing but party, party, party. I got permission to tell all that we are celebrating her 42nd birthday. She is either very secure or has given up all hope of surviving our foray into international adoption so it doesn't matter who knows. We were both convinced that today was the day we would get our court date. What a wonderful B'day present that would be for Sharon. Wrong!!! Zhenia called a few minutes ago and told me that he was instructed to call back on Thursday. Sharon said that she definitely thinks her 43rd birthday will be much better. I have done a few things to try and make the day special, but we both realize its very much like scooping whip cream on top of a big pile of manure and calling it desert.



Back at the start of the adoption process, I began keeping a journal to record all of the events and experiences we encounter as we work to bring Viktor home. I have decided that since I am at the helm of the blogging tug today that I would subject the readers to an excerpt from the journal, or as I have taken to calling it "The Viktor Chronicals". The following excerpt is from the train trip Sharon, Zhenia and I took down to Viktor's camp located on the Black Sea. This is the same trip that Sharon wrote about in an earlier blog.


"The first leg of the trip down to the camp we rode in semi-Ukrainian luxury. This meaning that Zhenia had secured for us our own Cupla. A Cupla is designed to sit/sleep four people, four very small people. Keep in mind that Sharon and I tell people all the time that we are freakishly tall people. The sleeping racks are arranged bunk style on either side of the cupla, perpendicular to the train tracks. We boarded the train and sat down in our cupla. Man it was hot. Zhenia tried to keep our minds busy while we waited for the train to leave by showing us all the features of the cupla, which lasted about two minutes. The majority of the cabin features centered around the redundant locking mechanisms for the door, all of which are meant to ensure that no one comes into your cabin while you are sleeping on the increadibly slow moving train and takes your stuff. After a thourough breifing on where to and where not to put your stuff in the cupla to safegaurd against someone coming into the cabin while you are sleeping on the increadibly hot train and taking your stuff, the train finally left the station. Did I mention the heat? While the train was moving there was an ever so slight contitioning of air eminating from the ceiling of the cabin. To call it air conditioning would be going to far. It was more like the promise of air-conditioning really, just enough to take the edge off the heat thus changing the temp from unbearable to uncomfortable. But, we were finally off to see Viktor, and at this point the trip was still very young.

It was an 11hr overnight train ride to Kherson, where we would depart the train and find other transportation for the remainder of the journey to camp. I slept fitfully in a pool of sweat, on a bunk that was a foot to short for about as long as I could take it so I got up at 5 am and greeted the morning from the window of the train. The train was scheduled to arrive in Kherson at 7:40 am and after a quick breakfast at the local Kherson McDonalds we would get a shuttle bus to camp and Viktor. It's funny what one's mind will reach out and cling to in order to get through a particular situation. A difficult period at work can be buffered with the thoughts of an upcoming vacation for example. The thing that I clinged to this particular morning was an Egg McMuffin and maybe a hash round or two on the side. A small bit of what I felt to be normalcy to recover from what I believed to be a very non-normal travel experience. So we readied ourselves as best we could, grabbed our bags and departed the train. On the way out of the station on the way to McDonalds, Zhenia decided to to stop and check on trian tickets for the return trip that evening. He was told that there was nothing available on any of the evening trains back to Kiev. The clerk told Zhenia to show back up around 6:00 pm and check because people were always cancelling their reservations and tickets become available. OK, our return trip plan established, lets get to Mickey Dees and salvage the morning with a little taste of home. Well on the way to Mcdonalds this time, Zhenia decides to check on shuttle bus service to the camp. What, no shuttle bus directly to camp? OK, we will have to take a shuttle bus to Skidoesk and then get a taxi from there to the camp, but hey who's complaining at least we will be headed to see Viktor, and have I mentioned that we've been in country for two and a half weeks and we haven't seen him yet. Now, with that decision made, lets get to McDonalds for an egg Mcnormal and a little taste of home on the side. Zhenia says its right down this street here. Hmmm, I don't see a McDonalds down the street, and I can see a pretty good ways. Zhenia begins asking the locals where the McDonalds is and is told that there is no McDonalds in all of the city. What!!!No Egg McNormal to turn this morning around. No hash browns to make me feel like John Curry, priviledged American, again. This morning was not progressing as well as we wanted and it was about to get a whole lot worse."