On the road again

We're moving. Where? We don't know. Our landlady came by today; she's moving back in on August 1. So the hunt for a new apartment begins. Thankfully, one of our SEND co-workers works with a Ukrainian rental agent to find apartments. Here's hoping they find something great. And near a market. And not too far from church. Or the seminary. Or the bus stop.

Though we haven't really enjoyed interacting with our landlady, we have loved our apartment. Not only is it near everything on the list above, you also can see the sunset and some trees from the kitchen window.

Yet, every time I get close to leaving something (a job, a city, etc.), I start remembering all the elements of that thing that I don't like, and those elements (often minor inconveniences) suddenly become simply unbearable. I don't do this consciously, but it does make the leaving easier.

So: Our apartment is freezing in the winter and has no storage space. In the baby's room, we have a wardrobe filled with our landlady's old stuff, which she has consistently refused to remove. About 100 empty glass jars live on one of the balconies, accompanied by a bag of rotting clothes and a broken oven. The pipes under the sink sometimes release a really bad odor that stinks up the whole joint. Even when I've just cleaned it, the potty room smells like a potty room.

But still, all in all, it's been a great place to live. (Enter nostalgic sigh here.)

Sorry, Sammy

This from the NY Times: "The eldest children in families tend to develop slightly higher I.Q.s than their younger siblings, researchers are reporting."

As I recall, Sam and I both had our I.Q.s tested when we were young, but, to this day, our parents have withheld the results. Personally, I think Sam's smarter.

You say potato

Dietrich has a habit: He likes to sit in his stroller and say "aaaaaa." He says "aaaaa" as long as he can, and then he takes a breath and says "aaaaaa" again. When he does this at church, everyone says, "He's singing."

Yesterday I was in the rinok (outdoor market), waiting in line to buy cherries. Dietrich was "aaaaaaa"-ing. Another guy selling fruit looked down at my sweet, cherub-faced little bug and asked him, "Who are you swearing at?"

Germany: A nice place to visit. And most likely to live, too.

On the swing at the Bible college where we stayed.

We got back a few days ago from a weeklong SEND conference in Germany. It was held at a Bible school from which several of our missionaries graduated. At this triennial event, all of SEND’s missionaries in the former Soviet Union (about 200 people) gather. We flew to Germany a day early because our plane tickets were $400 cheaper if we flew May 31 rather than June 1, so we got one morning together as a family before the conference started. So, there’s the context. Here’s the list:

1. In Germany, when the crossing light turns green and you step into the crosswalk, all the cars stop.

2. Corny land! Cornies are a granola-bar-ish treat that we discovered in Kyiv. In Germany, they have mini-Cornies, Corny bites and Big Cornies, which are the ones available here. We tried them all, and we feel the Big Cornies are the best.



3. Singing in English, especially this song, this song and various hymns.

4. Granola and tasty, whole-grain rolls with meat and cheese for breakfast. Salad and tasty, whole-grain rolls with meat and cheese for dinner. Gummy peaches for dessert. Rooibos tea at every meal and every break.

5. This commercial. And I'm not being culturally insensitive — the Germans in the room laughed, too.

6. Seeing the mommas and their babies at the Hannover Zoo. This probably will sound hokey, but ever since I became a momma myself, I feel connected to other moms, even when they’re hippos, elephants, ducks, turtles or gorillas. Also, Dietrich really enjoyed the penguins.


Momma and baby ducks.


Momma and baby hippos.


Momma and baby Oldenburgs.

7. Hearing about SEND's work in Kazakhstan and Siberia. Both of those areas have cultures that are quite different from Ukrainian culture, and it's amazing to see how our creative God is making Himself known in ways that wouldn't work here, but are perfect and compelling there. For instance, in Kazakhstan, people gather in traditional tents sometimes, and at the top of the tents is the pattern of a cross. They even have a saying that can basically be translated, "Look to the cross." It's a great place from which believers can start talking about the cross to which we all look for salvation.

8. Watching Dietrich bond with other kids. He mostly demanded a perch on my hip all week, but from that safe place he would burst into uncontrollable giggles when one of three kids — Ryan, Misha or Maya — came over to say hi.

9. German efficiency. The woman running the conference thought of everything! She had coffee available at 5:30 a.m. (or so she said … I wasn’t up at that hour). The families with kids were all assigned to two halls in the dorms, so that once the kids were asleep, a student could babysit while the parents went and had a coffee or an ice cream. At one point, I watched a child drop a leaf on a walkway. I noticed this otherwise-benign act because it was the ONLY leaf on the walkway, and I assume someone came by within 10 minutes to get rid of it.

10. Coming home. Not just because traveling with a baby was challenging sometimes, but because, as we approached our apartment in the taxi, I told Dietrich, “We’re almost home,” and for him, it’s 100 percent true. Eric and I have a hard time defining home, and eventually Dietrich probably will too, as he starts to remember visits to the States for Home Services, but for now, Xharkovsky Shosse 49 is his home.