~ the bread seller won't sell you the last loaf of bread because she says it's "not fresh" ... yet she stays open, NOT selling that last loaf of bread. ~ banks, shops, etc. close completely for "technical breaks", lunches, etc. at various times on various days. Most places are getting better at posting these hours, but not all. Sometimes a shop assistant will ask you not to buy items from one particular wall because she's just finished stock-take on that wall and you'll mess up her figures. ~ you must come to the hospital between 8 and 9 am if you want a blood test done for free, right on the dot of 9 its chargeable – so the queue at 7:30 is a long one. Urine samples must be delivered by 8 am or they're not acceptable. The hospital twice lost Vita's blood tests but the second time Vita complained that it would be the third round already so the nurse had a look on her desk and found them immediately. ~ certain shops maintain a peculiar system where you get in a queue to select the items you want to buy and find out their total value, then you leave them (either on the shelf or with an assistant) and go to the cashier where you get in a queue to pay and get your receipt, then you get back in the first queue (or make your own new queue if you have enough charisma) to pick up your items. ~ Ukrainian doctors seem very specialized so you have to see several doctors per visit. Imagine: the first doctor checks your shoulder and writes his diagnosis then he sends you to the next doctor (on a different floor) who checks your elbow and adds his diagnosis, then you go back to the original floor and right next door to the first doctor (or maybe even the same room) and another doctor checks your wrist. Maybe that's a little simplified, but every time Vita's gone to the doctor she's seen at least three of them.		And of course any one of those doctors could have gone home for the day (most seem to finish work around 2 pm) so you can't continue your pilgrimage till the next day. Sergei recently had to confirm he's healthy to get a visa to Australia and had to see 8 different doctors! ~ phone lines regularly don't work at all, have tons of static, or someone interrupts your conversation asking you to stop talking because you are on "their line". Its great when one of these fluke 4-way conversations happens to involve people you know. Sometimes you're even lucky enough to get the radio playing over the phone line – so loud that you compete with it. Also common is to dial the EXACT right number (repeatedly!) and yet get connected to a different number than you dialed...and not the same number, it varies! You can get digital lines now, but they cost around $100 and that's merely to switch you to the digital exchange in the post office – it does nothing for the quality of the line you already have running from the post office to your phone. If you want them to replace that you pay another $400, but they'll only do it if the 'conditions' are right. ~ if there is more than one front door to a business (commonly two sets of double doors), one set is usually closed completely, always, and of the other set, only one is open. Despite the queues, despite the weather, you can't have too many doors open. We won't even get into the subject of getting sick because of "sitting in a draught", putting ice in drinks, not wearing a scarf, etc. A couple of times one of the grandmothers living in our building spotted me leaving without a hat while there was still snow on the ground and she caught me by the arm and gave me a stern lecture. I started sneaking in and out when I didn't want to wear a hat, hoping she wouldn't be around.
Andrei, a guy I recently spent time with discussing God and the Bible, used to live with a group of students from Cuba as part of a language exchange program under Communism: he was supposed to learn Spanish and they Russian. He tried to refuse but was told that was his role in life, so he decided to get revenge by playing the system and ended up speaking Spanish fluently in 6 months while none of his room-mates learnt Russian. At a recent parent-teacher meeting the teacher told Andrei that their son is top of the class. Andrei said this is because his son takes extra lessons with the Australian girl, Tanya. The teacher said, "I don't recommend that, Australians don't speak English properly and your son will pick up bad habits." Andrei's first son was born in Kaharlyk and the nurse dropped him but didn't tell anyone so the doctor couldn't understand what was wrong and took the wrong measures – the baby died when it was 2 days old. Once Andrei found out what happened he decided next time they'd go to a different hospital. He said he was young then and scared (about 10 years ago) but if it happened now he would sue and just make sure he paid the judge more than the opposition. So they had their next son in Kyiv, his wife was alloted to the last room in the corridor and completely ignored by the nurses – Andrei brought her everything she needed (including feeding her) and provided chocolates, flowers, and cognac for the doctors and nurses as his wife		dictated but although the baby was born without any hassles there was no 'nice' treatment. So for their third son, since Andrei had 9 months warning and had an excellent job at the time, he saved up US$500, found a doctor and told her that he would give her $250 right now if she agreed and $250 after the baby was born. For that money he expected them to treat his wife like a queen and if there were any problems he would sue. The doctor agreed, his wife was given the best room in the hospital, every nurse was nice to her, they checked on her very regularly, put flowers in her room, fed her very well, got someone in to massage her, and every day (Andrei stayed in a hotel across the road) when Andrei came to visit they put a white coat on him and conducted him past all the other waiting husbands (normally husbands aren't even allowed inside maternity hospitals – you wait in the waiting room for your wife to come out to you but you have to stay on opposite sides of a barrier and you only see your baby through a window – oddly enough grandmothers and doctors are allowed in), showed him his wife and asked if there was anything else he wanted done. When the baby was born they showed him baby and mother and the doctor asked if he was happy, he gave her the money and they continued to look after his wife for another couple of days, then they went home content. His advice is that I buy the same services.

We went to Rokitne in March to see if they would take Vita because we'd heard the doctors had good reputations, and when we got there other people confirmed that they are excellent doctors, but the doctor himself refused to take anyone from Kaharlyk because in the past more and more people were coming from Kaharlyk to get normal treatment and there was a regional scandal and now he won't even take a bribe – he just doesn't want any problems. He said he needs a note from the head doctor in Kaharlyk but the head doctor here won't do that, so we gave up and Vita went in to the Kaharlyk hospital and announced she's pregnant. The nurse told her she should have come in January and then she would have been automatically put on a government benefit but its too late now – we're pretty sure it makes no difference when you go, somebody just wanted an excuse to keep Vita's money. Apparently they want me to come in and have my chest x-rayed and give blood to prove I'm a healthy father (locking the gate after the horse has bolted in a sense). And everywhere she goes, Vita gets hassled about her surname – she was somewhat comforted when I told her that no one in NZ can spell it properly either. They all want to know where her husband is from and where on earth she found him.

We took 54 people to the church conference at the beginning of May, eight of whom got baptised, and best of all: one of them was Vita! There were over 700 people there and for me it was a great opportunity to chat with guys who've been pastors for years and pick up advice on the things they've already struggled through themsleves. It was amazing to find a guy called Steve from Dunedin who'd been street-preaching in Kyiv for a month. I was stretched somewhat during that time by being called up the front to pray for people, and at first I was scared I'd look stupid if 'nothing happened', but God reminded me that its my role simply to pray.

The meals were catered by the camp cafeteria and local staff so we had some interesting Ukrainian food: porridge (milk with a few saltanas and oats swimming in it) and beetroot salad for breakfast; fish marinated in brine and served with raw onion for lunch. Another interesting dish was a Ukrainian version of cheesecake. It was made of macaroni mixed with tvarog (cottage cheese) with a dollop of jam on top, then refrigerated before being served. Cold macaroni seems off-putting, but it was good enough for me to get seconds, and even take a third piece back to our room for later.

A couple of days after returning from the conference we found that the hospital had been trying to get hold of Vita because they weren't happy with the results of tests they had done earlier. Vita dropped in to see them while I packed our bags so we could leave immediately for our last 'free' one-week holiday (free from children) before Vita's final session and exams were due to start. Some time later Vita returned to say that they want her to go to hospital and she's not to travel under any circumstances. We lost some money on the tickets we'd already bought, but it seemed wisest to trust the doctors.
So for a week Vita lived in the hospital. I wrote to quite a few of you during that time about how scary that experience was, and about their strange hospital rules.
For example Vita wasn't allowed in with a backpack – she had to transfer everything to a plastic bag, because who ever heard of someone going to hospital with a backpack?
I wasn't allowed in the building and Vita wasn't allowed out – for fear of spreading infection. The nurses and doctors and cleaners wandered in and out as they pleased, an electrician was dragging a ladder round inside dressed in his dirty overalls, Vita's Mum brought food to Vita every day which wasn't checked at all, Vita saw them washing dishes without soap or hot water – but Vita and I weren't allowed contact.
Probably the hardest thing Vita had to face was the lack of privacy and any attempt at trying to maintain one's privacy was laughed at by the nurses; as she got to know some of the other women she found they were struggling with the same things.
The answer to all questions was: "That's the way we've always done it." I overheard some older women discussing the strange new idea of putting the baby in the same room as the mother immediately after its born – they were pretty dubious about it and once again I heard, "That's not how we did it."
After seven days they began to drive us crazy by saying every day that they'll probably let her go now, but either the doctor just never turned up or they came up with some other such vague reason. On the morning of day ten they said they're not happy because the baby is head-down and could drop out at any minute (I can't believe how stupid that sounds, but that's what they said) so they want to keep Vita for the whole 2 months.
There are subtle reasons behind this, we don't know how true it is, but Vita's room-mate said that the more people they have in their rooms, the more money they get at the end of each year, so they'll come up with anything to keep people there. Other people have been told by the doctor that if they don't slip him a little something then he won't let them go home.
Then they sent Vita out for an uzi (ultrasound) and I just happened to be there so we went together (its in another building – so much for their 'anti-infection' campaign) and the uzi doctor said all's well. Then Vita got in the queue to stand on the scales and while we waited she read everything they wrote about her over the last 10 days and there's NOTHING wrong!!! At least, nothing that they've written. They even wrote that she has a healthy appetite and sleeps soundly, both of which were untrue. On the scales she found she'd lost almost a kg while in hospital.
I was feeling pretty upset and frustrated and wondering if I should hire Rambo or round up a bunch of friends like Ura (almost 2 metres tall, weighs 125 kgs) and storm the building and get Vita out of there, so as I walked down to the office I prayed and praised God a bit and put it all in His hands. Good thing too, when I got there Vita rang and said that they've told her she can go home now, but they were still fluffing around so she decided not to wait for the doctor to give her the stamp because again it could take 24 hrs, she just left her medical booklets and papers (such a communist system) at the hospital for her Mum to sort out the next day.