Halya called for a taxi to pick us up at 10am. Since we would have luggage, we thought it would be better to take a taxi instead of the subway and marshrutka. As the driver loads our luggage into the trunk, I climb into the back seat. Tim waits out with the driver. When he has it loaded, Tim decides to use his Russian, so he says "priviet" (hello) instead of "spaceeba" (thank you). I yell out from the car "it's spaceeba, not priviet". The driver starts laughing and says "priviet" chuckle chuckle. And that is why Tim doesn't like to try and speak Russian words. :) The driver gets lost for a bit in Brovary, but we finally make it. We walk through the gates with our luggage only to be met by a different Russian guard and
he is even scarier looking then the first one. He has long greasy hair pulled back into a pony tail and he has really gross rotten teeth. By this time I have Halya on the phone as he is trying to speak to us in Russian. I hand him the phone and she tells him why we are there. He allows us in and we proceed to Zoya's house. Zoya didn't appear to have been expecting us so early. She starts in making food for us. We sit down on the porch for what she calls "green borscht". It is quite tasty, but it is a large bowl and I have a hard time finishing it since we had just had a pancake breakfast at the McKenney's. Also on the table is a bowl of noodles, a bowl of cut up cucumber and tomatoes and some fried breaded meat. Tim finishes his soup bowl first and Zoya takes a plate and fills it up with noodles and veggies for Tim and then instructs him to put ketchup on it!!! Tim dutifully does what she says. What a guy. I just can't imagine eating cold noodles with ketchup. I keep
trudging along with my bowl of soup which seems to have no bottom. I can see Zoya watching me and I get very nervous. I start praying that God will help me finish it. I don't reach the bottom, but I eat enough that I feel that I can move along to the next course. The only thing is, I know I can't stomach cold noodles with ketchup. My timing is great. She is distracted and I make my own plate. I take the noodles and mix them with the vegetables, and make my own pasta salad. I take a small piece of meat and cut into it. Oh boy. I think it may be fried pork fat. The taste is not bad, rather salty, but there is fat and I just don't do fat. Blech. The piece is small, but in my eyes it looks like it is bigger than my plate. I keep eating it, slowly but surely. Tim whispers "stop looking like you are going to throw up". I smile and say "I'm trying!" Finally Tim says to me in English, which Zoya can't understand (we hope), "if she leaves, I'll eat it for you". Thankfully a few minutes later, she goes into the house and faster than lightning, Tim stabs the meat with his fork and pops it into his mouth. I am forever indebted to him. :) (This scenario reminded me of the Friends episode where Phoebe goes to her boyfriend's parents' house and they serve her meat and she is a vegetarian. Thankfully I didn't throw up in the closet!) After this Bogdan took us to the market in Brovary so that we can buy some things for our apartment. It was a short marshrutka ride and he helped us to decipher the labels so we could get what we wanted.Some observations about Ukraine markets: 1. their shopping carts are way better than ours! 2. the cashiers are seated as they work. 3. they charge you for every bag that you need. After this Bogdan takes us to an open air market where we buy him some flip flops. These types of markets are everywhere. Sometimes they really stink because you can buy meat and fish there and refrigeration and cooling leaves much to be desired. We go back to the apartment and get settled in. Later on that evening we go down to Zoya's. She offers us tea and cookies. We sit and chat (through Russian translator app) and get back to our apartment about 10pm. Thankful for another day with our son and for God's goodness to us
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