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Donets’k Diary
Saturday March 10
We left
pretty early for the airport, and everything was fine there. Long lines to
check in, but only a short wait for boarding the flight. Uneventful beyond the
movie--Night at the Museum. I was
disappointed in it—lots of slow parts. Jumanji
is much better. The connection at JFK was one of the most difficult I have
seen. Even though I was in the same terminal, I had to go out of security. The
signage was incredibly bad. Even though I followed the signs carefully, I found
myself in an elevated train station on the way out of the airport! That would
have been interesting. I retraced my steps and found that at one point I should
have basically taken a u-turn—out of one door and immediately back into the
corridor next to it on the left. Still the signs were bad, but finally I made
it to my gate. I was hungry and bought a bag of potato chips and chocolate
milk--$5.16. Welcome to New York.
I guess they have to pay Arod somehow.
The flight
was delayed by about 90 minutes—not in boarding—that was on time. The delay was
at the gate and on the taxi runway. The pilot said that 47 minutes had been
built into the flight plan to allow for the ground congestion at JFK, but this
was really bad. I knew that my connection in London
was tight, but the pilot said that he would try to make up for the lost time,
and he did—we were 45 minutes late at Heathrow. On this flight, I watched Stranger than Fiction. It was well done
and very interesting. I think that Lynne will enjoy it—we will have to rent it
some time.
Sunday March 11
I got off
the plane at 7:05 AM, and my flight to
Kiev was at 8:05 AM. Plenty of time, right? WRONG. The first sign of
difficulty was when the gate agent didn’t have the Kiev
flight listed on her manifest of gates. She simply said “Go to the terminal
1&2 queue.” So I did, and stood in it with about 500 other people for the
next hour. Literally. When I finally made my way through the line and boarded
the bus to terminals 1&2, it was 8:05 AM.
So much for my flight. Arriving at Terminal 1&2 brought me to another . .
. long line!!! What a surprise. This
time it was for another security check. When you get through this one, you are
in a large room full of airplane check in desks. So I made my way over to the
American Airlines desk and stood in still another queue. All in all, I ended up
standing in line for over 2 ½ hours—and there was no Space Mountain at the end. Of course everyone else in line was
facing similar problems—missed connections and had to be rebooked. This line was
extremely slow, and it was obvious that the women at the desks were facing
challenging assignments to rebook the customers. And for many of these
customers, there was still another line to stand in at the British Airways
ticket counter right next to AA. Most of the missed connections were on BA
flights—American had to rebook and BA had to issue boarding passes. It is just
British insanity!!!!
Ominously
for me, I noticed an oriental woman standing at the AA counter (she was there
for over an hour) who kept looking at a tour book with the word “Ukraine”
prominently displayed on the front. I began to suspect that she had also missed
the Kiev flight and was having a
terrible time being rebooked. After about an hour’s wait, I finally made it to
the counter (next to this oriental woman) who was actually buying a ticket to Kiev
on another airline. The agent assured her that BA would refund the money to
her, but it seemed outrageous that they would make her go through this
rigmarole. She was very good natured about it. I asked her if she had missed my
flight, and she confirmed it. So, what would they do with me? Actually her long
endurance at the counter helped me, because they already knew what they could
and could not do in terms of rebooking. BA only has one flight a day to Kiev;
Air France and Lufthansa had no space, and BA wouldn’t put me on Ukrainian
International Airways. So, American was forced to book me on the flight the
NEXT MORNING, and arrange for lodging, meals and transportation. In the end, it
was actually quite pleasant, but of course totally unexpected. The AA agent was
really very good about it all—I told her I was amazed at how cheerful she was
with such a long line full of tired and grouchy customers.
But I
wasn’t quite done with BA. They had my luggage. I was told to go through
passport control and speak to the luggage agent in the arrivals hall. She
informed me that if I wanted my bag it would take 3-4 hours to locate it. Wow.
Not really interested in that. So, I trusted that it would be OK and arrive
with me in Kiev the next day (it
did—but with some damage), and she gave me a nice overnight kit—razor, shampoo,
various lotions, comb, and a comfortable t-shirt for sleeping. Actually it is a
pretty good kit. Then, I was told to go a BA window upstairs in the check in
area and get a seat for the next day and make sure that my luggage was in the
system for tomorrow. So I did, and was shuttled back and forth between the
check in line and the ticketing line. In the end, all they did was assign me a seat.
Then it was
off to the hotel. It is very large and plain, but comfortable. It was a good
place to spend a quiet day. I thought about trying to attend morning worship
somewhere (there was a sign that said ‘Baptist Church ½ mile’) but it was
already after 11:00 and I figured it
was too late for a morning service. I knew that there was no way I could stay
awake for an evening service, so I didn’t get to public worship. Big time
bummer. AA gave me a voucher for the ‘Hotel Hoppa’ bus from the airport to the
Hotel, and this was easy; they also gave me vouchers for 3 meals. I used them
at the hotel—had a full English breakfast buffet; fish & chips for lunch;
and a supper buffet. All in all, pretty decent food. I found myself really
battling sleep though—I was constantly nodding off and waking up. I finally
gave in at about 7:20 PM, setting my
alarm for 4:30 AM (I had to catch the
‘Hoppa’ at 5:22). I slept soundly,
but was awake by about 2:30. Stayed
in bed for about an hour (very profitable meditation on 1 Peter 5:2), took a
shower and headed for the airport.
Monday March 12
BA may be
the world’s largest airline, but it isn’t very well organized. The first guy I
spoke with told me I had to go to the ticketing window again. I knew this was
wrong and so just went to the next person who helped me get checked in. No more
problems—I was inside security by about 5:45.
Had time for breakfast and finally was able to get to the gate for the flight
(at Heathrow, they don’t tell you what gate your flight will be at until about
40 minutes before takeoff. I guess that way they can keep you shopping at all
the stores). When I got to the gate, I was greeted with a reminder of Eastern
European culture—everyone pushes ahead—it’s every man for himself. The flight
was on time and uneventful—even had another breakfast (though the one at the
airport was better).
Arrival at Kiev
is interesting. The airport is actually quite small for a major capitol city.
It has 2 gates at Terminal B (where the international flights come in) and no
gates (that’s correct: 0) at Terminal A (domestic flights). Almost everything
is done on the tarmac. Our flight did not go to a gate, so we deplaned outside
and took a shuttle bus to the terminal. I was on the first bus, and so was able
to get into the immigration line fairly quickly. US
citizens no longer need a visa to enter Ukraine,
so it was really simple to come into the country. The agent asked me no
questions at all. Very nice. I then waited for my luggage and was glad to see
it arrive. Next is customs. I decided to use the ‘Green’ line (“Nothing to
declare”) though I filled out a declaration and kept it in my hand just in
case. All of the officers seemed to be busy or disinterested, and so I just
walked right through. Again, very nice and easy.
Since I had
missed my flights the day before, it was necessary to rebook my next flight.
The woman at the Donbass Aero desk didn’t speak English, but she was able to
track down my confirmation number and pointed me to the domestic terminal. I
walked outside into the brisk Kiev
air and in about 100 yards, I was at the next terminal. It is very different
from the first time I visited in 2003—open with seating and real check in
desks. I went to the Donbass Aero window and (apart from 2 men trying to cut in
front of me—Russian pushiness again) I was able to communicate with the woman
sufficiently to learn that I had to pay a rebooking fee of just over 120
hryvna. I think that’s about $25.00 which really isn’t too bad after all. But
what was really nice was that there was a flight to Donets’k leaving in about
30 minutes, and she put me on it. I had expected to sit there for about 4
hours—instead I never had a chance to sit.
Donbass
Aero has come a long way since the first time I flew on their planes. Back
then, it was an ancient Soviet era plane that looked like the Pan Am plane in
the Indiana Jones movie. I am not kidding—the bathroom was wooden—and you
boarded the plane through the tail. Well, anyway, now they have a nice new
Airbus A320. But you can tell that it is still a budget plane; there were two
things I noticed immediately. The first was that the seats were incredibly
close. A tall man would be very uncomfortable, especially in a window seat, and
secondly, there were no AC vents. It was warm in the plane. I wished for some
air.
Since there
are no gates at this terminal, everyone is bussed out to the plane. Two women
organized the brief journey, and I was reminded of just how western Ukrainian
women try to be. Have you ever wondered who buys the designer stuff that comes
out of Paris of Milan? I know—it is the young women of Eastern
Europe. These two were dressed, not for work, but high fashion. It
was like The Devil Wears Prada in Kiev!
I can’t imagine what they must pay for these clothes (and spiked high heel
boots which seem to be de rigueur).
As I contemplated this high fashion, I wondered if these girls buy the clothes
to wear to work, or if they work in order to buy the clothes to wear?
And then
one of them sat in my row on the plane. Actually, it was quite funny—I smiled
all through the flight at what happened next. I was on the first shuttle out to
the plane, on the second arrived a middle-aged woman and a man around 60. She
was really dolled up: bouffant styled white hair (sort of like Texas
big hair!), white coat, mini skirt, and spike heeled white boots up to her
knees. She tapped me on the shoulder and moved into the window seat, followed
by the heavy man in a gray suit who took the middle seat. They were obviously
together. Almost immediately, he fell asleep and began snoring, and continued
to snore through the whole flight. It was really hilarious. Here I was stuck
next to this Russian speaking man who was choking on his snores—he must have
sleep apnea problems—trying not to break out in laughter. The woman seemed to
pay no attention to him as he snorted and bellowed.
The Donbass
Aero magazine is a hoot. All the articles are in Russian, but there is a brief
synopsis of each one in English. But it is obvious that the paragraphs were
written by a fourth year high school student. It was stuff like this (copied
right from the magazine as is—spelling discrepancies and all):
David
Beckham gained stunning success on the school team, thanks to which he was
noticed by the functionaries of Manchester United and in 1991 he signed a contract with the club. Since 1995
Beckham’s triumph has started—he shot multiple goals and became a toast.
The show continues even outside the football
pitch . . . . Famous brands struggle for advertising him, girls pine for him,
and his statue was positioned in Thailand. . . “He is not player, he is pop star” the
envious slandered. But if he missed the gate and could not catch the ball would be there many firms striving to
have such a failure advertizing their brands?
This stuff is sort of like an authentic menu at a Chinese
restaurant.
The ground
here was covered in a dusting of snow; the air temperature was right at
freezing, and there was a tiff wind blown rain coming down. Basically cold, wet
and dreary. Since I was much earlier than expected, there was no one to meet me
at the Donets’k airport. What to do? I ask policeman if he speak English. He
say no, but brings to me driver who does—a little. I show him address I need to
get to. He consult with others and decides that he can find address. Tells me
that it will cost 130 hryvna or $30.00. Well, I wondered what to do. The
alternative was to wait four hours for my ride. There is no seating area, and
no way to phone the people here at the church. So with some hesitation, I
accepted his offer. In the back of my mind I wondered if maybe I would end up
robbed and dumped in a back alley in the seedy part of town; but I was reminded
of the kind and gracious providence of the Lord in all of my travels thus far,
and I hoped that a policeman would have chosen a reputable individual for the
mission. We set off and the roads he took did look familiar—a comforting
thought. I did have a moment of concern when he stopped on the way, but it was
just for gas. We arrived here at the church, and I cam inside to see if someone
here had some hryvna to pay the fellow. He obviously didn’t want me to do this,
because he knew that he was over charging me and the locals wouldn’t stand for
that. But I wanted a local to talk to him. One of the secretaries here handled
him and paid him 100 hryvna, probably still too much but less than I expected.
BTW, the exchange rate is 5 to 1; if I had given him 30 USD it would have been
150 hryvna. But anyway, I was here safe and sound and earlier than expected.
Really, it was an easy day of travel when you consider all the exigencies. I
can say that the Lord was very kind to me in all of it. The day in London
was very relaxing and really helped me to adjust to the time change.
Tuesday March 13
I was told
that breakfast was at 8:30, but it
was at 8:00. The ladies were very kind
to me and gave me food anyway. But there was one hilarious incident. I was
given a plate of noodles, some pickles, dry bread, and a container of what I
thought was tomato juice. It was soft-sided and looked like many of the juice
drink boxes I see here. So I opened the cap and put some in my cup. It was
incredibly thick, but I had seen the flight attendant on Donbass aero pour some
tomato juice in a cup and it was pretty thick. But it just didn’t seem right. I
wondered if maybe I was supposed to add water to it, but there wasn’t any on
the table. Then the serving lady came back. When she looked in my cup (trying
to pour tea in it) she was shocked to see what was in there. She tried to tell
me what it was, but I couldn’t understand her at all. A classic case of failure
to communicate. Finally I tasted it with a spoon. It was ketchup! I could hear
the ladies in the kitchen laughing out loud when she went back and told them. Imagine
their conversation: “He may be a theology professor, but he isn’t very bright!”
It really was funny. I have since learned that this is how ketchup is dispensed
here. I have also learned that it comes in a variety of flavors: sweet (which
is what I had), barbeque, garlic, onion and who knows what else. I can’t
imagine eating some of these flavors of ketchup. Yuck.
Class began
at 12:00, or so I was told. But lunch
wasn’t until 1:00, and so class
didn’t begin until around 1:45, and
it ended for supper at 4:30. I have
had to make major adjustments to try to cover the material. I have about 30
students, I would say about 18 men and 12 women. Most are older, though there
are a couple who look very young. They listen well, though I really have no
idea how much they actually understand. My translator is a young woman named Galena.
She seems to be quite capable, though it is a challenge for her as she is
pregnant and tires quickly. She wears the spikey heeled boots too—that seems to
be the style for all the fashionable women here. After class and supper, back
to my room. I watched Still We Believe.
It’s really a great movie—but it is incomplete without the bonus disk. You have
to see how the film’s stars respond to a World Series victory in 2004. I think
that Nathan and Micah will enjoy this one. I was really nodding off, and so I
also watched my Neil DVD from the 2000 tour. Beth, that’s the one we saw in
SD—a really great show, and just the right thing to keep me awake until a
decent hour for bed.
Wednesday March 14
Lynne, you would have been repulsed
by breakfast. It was 2 pickle slices, some white bread, a big bowl of steaming
pasta in a small shape I have never seen before, and a fat stubby uncooked hot
dog/sausage thingy. You probably would only have liked the tea. All the meals
are basically the same. Pasta for breakfast, borsch for lunch, and rice or
buckwheat with traces of meat for supper. It is all starch and carbs. Not
really very good for me. Today was really an uneventful day. Class went well,
though I learned at 2:40 that my day
was over in 5 minutes, as the students had another class to attend. Even less
time for lectures than I thought. So far, all of this for 8 hours of classroom
time (cut in half because of translation).
Please
skip this paragraph if bodily functions make you uneasy. I had forgotten
the unusual design of the toilets here. The bowls are basically built
backwards. The effluent hole is at the front of the device, behind it is a
little shelf. When the toilet is flushed, the force of the water theoretically
pushes the ‘deposit’ off the shelf and into the hole. Shall I say that this is
gross? Making matters worse is the fact that here in the church building (which
is where I am staying) the water is off for much of the day. One must learn to
flush carefully when the water is off. Let us just say that I learned yesterday
that ‘making water’ during the day is not a sufficient cause for flushing. Once
you flush, the supply in the tank is gone until later when the system turns on
again. And if you have used your supply and fill the shelf, well . . . . .
There is actually a bucket and pail to be filled in the morning so that you can
do something about the problem.
I watched a truly great movie—Gods and Generals. It is really well
done. I think that it brilliantly portrays the contradictions inherent in the
Southern Cause. But it does so respectfully and without manipulation. Stonewall
Jackson’s faith is a little bit misrepresented, but all in all a really
enjoyable and moving 3.5 hours.
Thursday March 15
Morning comes early here. I am
waking up between 4:00 and 5:00 AM. I actually don’t mind, and haven’t been
badly jet-lagged. I have been going to sleep fairly easily, and I really enjoy
that. I would rather go to sleep quickly and wake up early than the other way
around—which is normal for me. I would love to change my pattern and have this
new one.
I know that when I am away like
this, Lynne sometimes serves breakfast for lunch or dinner. Well, I just had
lunch for breakfast! It was a big bowl of borsch, some little noodles with
cheese, and (basically) a bologna sandwich. Well, at least it fills the belly.
Though I am looking forward to some bacon & eggs. BTW, the bread here is
delicious. They serve it dry, or sometimes with jelly on it (I didn’t have the
jellied bread this AM). I know that it would be really great with lots of
butter on it.
I preached in the evening on Isaiah
53:10 (this will also be my text on Sunday). The service starts at 5:00 and lasted until almost 7:00. There were 3 sermons, though the first two were
very brief and seemed more like exhortations than serious attempts to preach
the Word. Lots of special music, and two recitations of some kind. One was by a
lady, obviously a poem; the other by a young man, it might also have been a
poem. I actually had a hard time staying awake during much of the early part of
the service. As it is all in Russian, it is difficult to enter in. My early
morning wakeups come back to visit me in the evening. There was a strange
experience at the end of my sermon: I felt some liberty in preaching and I
think that Sergei (my interpreter and the pastor of the church) did too. He was
just as animated as I was. Anyway, at the end, a woman came right up on the
platform, looked at us, said something in Russian, and fell on her knees to
pray. The whole church joined her, and then several others responded in prayer.
Finally Sergei told me to go ahead and pray. I have no idea what this lady was
doing. I will have to ask.
Watched the first part of Gettysburg
after worship. Joshua Chamberlain was THE MAN! I am convinced that he won the
war with his defense of Little Round Top.
Friday March 16
Today is
the last day of class. I woke around 4:00 AM
(after about 5 hours sleep). I worked on an exam for the students and suggested
topics for a term paper. All of that will have to be translated today.
Breakfast was, well, less than enjoyable. It consisted of some steaming hot
buckwheat with liver, an uncooked hot dog, and some French bread with jelly on
it. Lynne would not survive long here.
My regular
translator, Galena, has a doctor’s
appointment today (she is pregnant with her second child). Sergei will
translate in her place. That will be interesting as he has good theological
knowledge and will be better able to communicate my ideas to the students. I
guess that yesterday I stirred up some controversy by telling them that the
tithe was no longer in force as a tax on God’s people—instead we are called to
give generously to Christ’s cause. We will see if it comes up again today. I
expect that it will.
But it didn’t.
Instead we handled worship, evangelism and church discipline. Sergei seemed to
enjoy himself a lot. At the beginning of class, I asked the students if they
knew what day tomorrow was. None of them knew, so I instructed them in the ways
of the Irish. I brought in my green Ireland Rugby shirt and hung it on the
board, and taught them to say “Erin go bragh!” It was really fun when I
told them what it means—they all laughed and then said (in Russian or
Ukrainian) “Ukraine
forever!”
Class ended
at 2:00. Since it was the last day,
they had lunch late before the students went home. This was great for them, but
it meant that I had to eat a big lunch at 2:00
and then supper at 4:30. Ugh. But
the supper was about the best meal I have had. I was the only one eating; the
ladies fried some potatoes in onions, gave me a nice meatball and a big bowl of
delicious cole slaw. I enjoyed that one.
In the
evening I watched the rest of Gettysburg, packed my bags and got ready
for the long day of travel. Went to bed nice and early.
St. Patrick’s Day, March 17
I was awake
before 5:00 AM. I had been told to be
ready at 6:30, but I was up and
ready long before that. Last night, the ladies had brought me some food for
breakfast—two pieces of bread with cheese on them and a bowl of cole slaw. It
was a good breakfast—certainly hearty. At 6:15,
there was a knock on the door. I opened to find a man with a cell phone in his
hand. I took the phone and Sergei was on the other end, telling me that this
was Anatoly and he would drive me to the airport. OK. Anatoly headed
downstairs, I grabbed my bags and followed him, but he was out of sight. I
could hear someone in the basement (I though it was Anatoly), so I put down my
bags inside the door and waited . . . for about 30 minutes. I couldn’t figure
out what was taking him so long. In fact at one point I went downstairs and
said “Let’s Go” but the man only smiled back at me. Around 6:50, I heard a noise behind me and there was Anatoly
coming in the door with the phone in his hand. Sergei was saying urgently “Brother,
why haven’t you left yet?” Well, Anatoly was waiting outside the door all that
time, and I was waiting inside. What a riot! We drove speedily to the airport;
Sergei was there to say goodbye, and I was ready to go. This Donbass Aero plane
was not an Airbus—it was an old Russian thing. There were no overhead bins—they
were overhead shelves—open to the cabin. The seats folded down forward. The
plane was packed, but it flew safely to Kiev.
I retrieved my baggage and headed for the other terminal, where I waited for
about 3 hours for my next flight. The place was really full and very busy.
There was a long line at the Delta counter, as the direct flight to New
York had been cancelled. I would learn the reason why
later.
Nothing
much to report beyond the fascinating people around. The women mostly fit into
two categories—old babushkas and young fashion models. The men all look the
same—dressed in dark clothes and looking somber. When my flight was finally
called, I checked in, went through the green customs line (though I did go to
an agent and ask him if I had to declare my prescription medicine—he looked at
it, asked a few questions and told me it was OK). I went upstairs to passport
control and another customs agent stopped me (a woman) and asked how much money
I had (you have to declare any money over $3,000 USD). Since I only had about
$50.00, she let me go.
I always am
glad to be on my flight out of Kiev,
and this time was no different. Plenty of room on the plane, and apart from a
pleasant Irish flight attendant who liked my Ireland shirt, it was uneventful. Likewise the
connection at Heathrow—tight but manageable. The AA flight to JFK was
absolutely filled. The reason was that all of the earlier flights had been
cancelled due to storms on the east coast. My flight was the first one out of London
for the day, and it was at 5:30 PM. Uneventful
flight, watched Casino Royale which
is an interesting Bond movie—very different from the past standard. Arrived at
JFK around 9:30, took about 45
minutes for the baggage to come through, and then was met by Marc Grimaldi and
one of the men from the church there.
Sunday March 18.
After a
decent night’s sleep (5 or 6 hours) I had breakfast with the Grimaldi’s and
then we walked over to the church. I took the SS hour and spoke about the trip
and gave a report on IRBS, and then preached in the AM service on Isaiah 53:10.
The ministry was well-received and seemed to be appreciated. I had unusual
liberty for being as tired as I was. After worship and mingling with folks, the
ladies there gave me a nice dinner of corned beef and cabbage; then it was back
to JFK for the flight home.
The best
part of it all was being picked up at the airport by my sweetheart. I was
really exhausted by then, fell right to sleep, and woke up at 2:15 AM! I was up and out of bed and working by
3:00—it takes time to get adjusted
back to PDT.
Over all,
it was a really good trip. Thanks to everyone who prayed for me. I look forward
to the next journey to Ukraine
on April 27.
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