stevenpiziks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stevenpiziks) wrote2010-04-09 11:01 pm
stevenpiziks) wrote2010-04-09 11:01 pm
It Begins
Today the research began in earnest. We're planning a return trip to Ukraine.
It'll just be Sasha and me going. One week this summer to find his birth family. He hasn't had any contact with them since the adoption, and we have no idea if they know what happened to him and Maksim. This is also the last summer before he turns eighteen, so it has to be now.
Mackie isn't going, though he wants to. However, I don't know how Mariya and Viktor, his birth mother and father, would react to him. They might react well, they might freak out. Mackie isn't old enough to handle someone freaking out over him. My main concern--my only concern--is the psychological welfare of my children, so Mackie doesn't need to be there. If things go well, we can go back when he's older. In any case, Mackie doesn't remember anything about his birth family or even Ukraine.
Sasha needs to go back. He needs to let his family know where he is, see where they are and what they're doing. He didn't have a chance to say good-bye to them or to his home village. And he needs to do it before he turns eighteen. I'm trying to remain optimistic, but I can envision his mother begging him to stay and get a job and help support her. This wouldn't be good for him--he'd be forced to choose between his American and Ukrainian families. I can remove the choice and make him come back home, where his future has more possibilities, and he wouldn't have to feel guilty over it.
The biggest hurdle is linguistic. Ukrainian is Martian to me. If it were a Germanic or a Romance language, I wouldn't be worried--I could either speak it or puzzle it out enough to travel on it. I can't deal with Ukrainian at all, though, and Sasha has forgotten his. I'm sure he'll get it back quickly when he gets there, but he never had to deal with hotels, trains, cars, money exchanges, or any of the other travel chores, and I'm unwilling to count on him as a translator. So we have to hire someone.
This kind of sucks. I'm an experienced European traveler. I can get around very well on my own. But trying to find a single person in a small, backwoods village in a country where I can't read a simple railroad timetable . . . no. Plus we'll need someone to translate for me--and possibly Sasha--when we connect with his family.
I scoured all our Ukrainian adoption materials. I know I kept every single document, including the scribblings from my big blue notebook, where I communicated with Sasha in pictures and in which Irine, our housekeeper, wrote her address and phone number. I wanted to call her and find out if we could hire her for the job, since she was absolutely wonderful in all ways. But I couldn't find it anywhere. I found everything else, but not these pages.
I got hold of our original adoption agency in Chicago, and they promised to email me contact info for Rights Protection Fund, the group that facilitated the Ukrainian side of our adoption. Waiting to hear there. I also asked around on a Ukrainian adoption bulletin board and got the name of a guy who does works with a lot of American families who return to Ukraine. His rates seems reasonable.
Sasha's passport seems to have vanished, so we're looking for it. It's around here someplace.
The whole idea of the trip makes me both unsettled and anticipatory at the same time. I want to meet Sasha's family, but I'm worried about how it'll all turn out. I've talked to Sasha extensively about various possible outcomes on this, all but The Big One. (What if his mother has passed away?--I can't figure out how to broach that one.) He's looking forward to it, though he's trying not to show it. He's also unnerved about seeing the much-hated Viktor again, too. I've told him he'll probably be surprised at how small Viktor looks when he gets there.
I discovered that both Google Earth and my iPhone provide directions through Ukraine, including to Ostapy, Sasha's home village. When we went to Ukraine the first time, our phones wouldn't work there, but things have changed quite a lot in the last few years, and now I'm betting my phone will work just fine. I'll call my carrier to find out what can be arranged and also find out if the satellite Internet will still work on my phone over there.
Many, many details to figure out.
It'll just be Sasha and me going. One week this summer to find his birth family. He hasn't had any contact with them since the adoption, and we have no idea if they know what happened to him and Maksim. This is also the last summer before he turns eighteen, so it has to be now.
Mackie isn't going, though he wants to. However, I don't know how Mariya and Viktor, his birth mother and father, would react to him. They might react well, they might freak out. Mackie isn't old enough to handle someone freaking out over him. My main concern--my only concern--is the psychological welfare of my children, so Mackie doesn't need to be there. If things go well, we can go back when he's older. In any case, Mackie doesn't remember anything about his birth family or even Ukraine.
Sasha needs to go back. He needs to let his family know where he is, see where they are and what they're doing. He didn't have a chance to say good-bye to them or to his home village. And he needs to do it before he turns eighteen. I'm trying to remain optimistic, but I can envision his mother begging him to stay and get a job and help support her. This wouldn't be good for him--he'd be forced to choose between his American and Ukrainian families. I can remove the choice and make him come back home, where his future has more possibilities, and he wouldn't have to feel guilty over it.
The biggest hurdle is linguistic. Ukrainian is Martian to me. If it were a Germanic or a Romance language, I wouldn't be worried--I could either speak it or puzzle it out enough to travel on it. I can't deal with Ukrainian at all, though, and Sasha has forgotten his. I'm sure he'll get it back quickly when he gets there, but he never had to deal with hotels, trains, cars, money exchanges, or any of the other travel chores, and I'm unwilling to count on him as a translator. So we have to hire someone.
This kind of sucks. I'm an experienced European traveler. I can get around very well on my own. But trying to find a single person in a small, backwoods village in a country where I can't read a simple railroad timetable . . . no. Plus we'll need someone to translate for me--and possibly Sasha--when we connect with his family.
I scoured all our Ukrainian adoption materials. I know I kept every single document, including the scribblings from my big blue notebook, where I communicated with Sasha in pictures and in which Irine, our housekeeper, wrote her address and phone number. I wanted to call her and find out if we could hire her for the job, since she was absolutely wonderful in all ways. But I couldn't find it anywhere. I found everything else, but not these pages.
I got hold of our original adoption agency in Chicago, and they promised to email me contact info for Rights Protection Fund, the group that facilitated the Ukrainian side of our adoption. Waiting to hear there. I also asked around on a Ukrainian adoption bulletin board and got the name of a guy who does works with a lot of American families who return to Ukraine. His rates seems reasonable.
Sasha's passport seems to have vanished, so we're looking for it. It's around here someplace.
The whole idea of the trip makes me both unsettled and anticipatory at the same time. I want to meet Sasha's family, but I'm worried about how it'll all turn out. I've talked to Sasha extensively about various possible outcomes on this, all but The Big One. (What if his mother has passed away?--I can't figure out how to broach that one.) He's looking forward to it, though he's trying not to show it. He's also unnerved about seeing the much-hated Viktor again, too. I've told him he'll probably be surprised at how small Viktor looks when he gets there.
I discovered that both Google Earth and my iPhone provide directions through Ukraine, including to Ostapy, Sasha's home village. When we went to Ukraine the first time, our phones wouldn't work there, but things have changed quite a lot in the last few years, and now I'm betting my phone will work just fine. I'll call my carrier to find out what can be arranged and also find out if the satellite Internet will still work on my phone over there.
Many, many details to figure out.