When our van drives down into the valley where gypsy camp is
held, the kids run to greet us. They meet us before we’ve even exited the
cramped van, and are already shaking our hands. ‘Hello.’ (shake hand) Next kid,
‘Hello.’ (shake hand) A few of them speak some English. ‘What is your name?’
‘My name is Volva.’ And, my favorite, ‘We are gypsy.’
For a girl that has just spent 4 days in a country where she
cannot communicate anything from ‘I would like a cheeseburger’ to ‘where is the
toilet’, it was severely refreshing to be welcomed into our new cultural
surroundings without any prior information or experience. We are loved upon getting out
of the van. I’m enjoying Ukraine, but here, we are the foreigners. When I call
to my team in the grocery store, I am aware that I am that loud foreign voice.
We are a spectacle wherever we go. People stare. People look suspicious, or
annoyed. But, not with our friends the gypsy children.
Not only is it good to accepted upon arrival, but it’s also
helpful to have a more level playing field. Hanging out with children means the
words are going to be shorter. We can say things with facial expressions,
gestures, physical touch, or songs, that would never be
acceptable or possible with adults. These kids are amazing: ridiculously bright,
full of laughter, stunningly beautiful, athletic, competitive, helpful, and
pure in heart… our 3 days with the children have been unforgettable and I find myself
sometimes forgetting that we are in a different world at all.
Our time with these kids was spent playing sports, joining
in many games where we had no clue what was happening, sitting in on bible
study (in Russian), chasing them through fields, eating food with them,
learning new words from them, and just loving and being loved on by them.
Sadly, our time with gypsy camp ended tonight. We may see them again here and
there, but the remainder of our time in Ukraine will be spent doing other
things with and to support our local contacts.
I am loving my time here in Ukraine. I will never forget the
sight of kids running up from the valley to greet their American friends in a rumbling
van.
