Stan, Julie and their 3 girls

Over the last two weeks, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend time with a lovely couple from Indiana are now the proud parents of three girls from the Perechyn boarding school. They found this website after a search of the internet. It was such a joy, getting to know them and, at least in part, traveling with them on this epic journey.

They visited three schools in Ukraine, before finding a good fit with our own here in Perechyn. Like all new parents, they ran the gamut of emotions the month they were here, from nervous to happy, from tired to overjoyed. As they explained in their interview with a reporter from the Perechyn Kalaidescope newspaper, from the first day, the girls were absolutely certain that these were their parents – all of them, including the youngest who, barely able to read and write, insisted on signing the paper herself that it was her sincere wish to go home with this couple (even though she had an advocate who could sign for her). If you had met them, you would understand why; goodness and love transcend language barriers.

After trying to work out of his hotel room, Stan, a computer programmer, and I met at the time when he was considering returning to Kyiv in order to have regular internet access. Each day they were allowed to see the girls for three hours at a time and Stan and Julie would have been away from each other and from this experience together. So, it was quite provident that our office was equipped to fit his needs. Stan became a regular part of our “collective” and he fit right in.
On Men’s Day (also known as Red Army Day and Soviet Army Day), he celebrated with us in the kitchen. I joked with him that we are so much like a family, that we would normally be eating from the big plate of the chicken with our fingers. Plates and forks had been passed around in his honor. Stan, sat up and brightly asked if it would be ok to eat with his fingers; I smiled and translated his question to the rest of the office staff. Everyone let out a great laugh and the forks were put aside. Stan shared with us that our camaraderie reminded him of the four years that he and his wife Julie spent in Morocco.

In true Ukrainian fashion, theirs was a time of hurry-up and wait. Things would happen very quickly for awhile and then full-stop, while they waited to be added to the docket of the local courthouse line-up, or stood in line for a stamp, birthcertificate, or passport. Had I not gone through something similar (marrying a Ukrainian), I could not have appreciated the amount of patience they had, even though they had hired a facilitator to help them navigate the system. As we entered a very long holiday weekend, there was a mad dash to get all the paperwork completed so they could get to Kyiv for medical interviews and final visa checks (before the holiday festivities began and offices closed down).

I went shopping with Julie as she prepared a party for each of the girls’ classes at school. I had this vision of her with a Tupperware full of cupcakes, she had made with one of her daughters, sitting in the backseat of a minivan two years from now; after dropping her girls off at school, she made her way to her job as a nurse practitioner at the local hospital. Life - ordinary, beautiful.

On Tuesday, they waited in a local government office all morning, and then rushed into our office to pick up the cakes they had left in our refrigerator the day before. They were off to the classroom parties. At the end of the evening, Max (my husband), Michele (another Peace Corps volunteer in Perechyn), and I happily celebrated their new “simeyni zhittia (family life)” at our apartment. It was Julie’s birthday and the birthday of their new family. We talked about their experience and their journey to get to this place - really, just the beginning.

Many people ask about the language barrier between the girls and the new parents. Stan and Julie speak some Russian, but anyone who has spent any amount of time in a foreign country knows that when you cannot communicate with words, you learn other ways to express yourself. In some ways, this expression is more meaningful than words could ever be. It is non-verbal communication that brings people to their most meaningful relationships, whether or not they speak the same language.

My husband, Maksym, took the day off to clean our apartment and make a traditional Ukrainian meal in honor of Stan and Julie. Just before we ate, he made this toast. “I grew up in the boarding school, myself, and I want to tell you that what you are doing for these girls is a great thing. Here’s to good people who do great things.”