Sunday was a very special day for us; our church, Morning Star, had a baptism. In this one there were only 4 participants, but two of them were Charlotte and Melody Sayer! For baptisms we always meet down by the river, and under the trees we have a service of singing, preaching and testimonies. There are always curious on-lookers that join us to see why the crowd is gathered. Here are a few shots of the worship team, folks from our church and the “baptisies” giving their testimonies.

Our pastor, Andrei, translated for Melody

Char gave her testimony in Russian.

Then we moved on down to the beach. It was a sunny day, so the beach was starting to collect sun-and-water seekers by 11:00. Our baptisms are always in the summer and always very public. J

As you can see, our girls' dad got to help baptism them.

Melo down and up:

Char down and up:

It was really meaningful to our church that our girls wanted to be baptised here with them before we leave, but then, these are the people our family identifies with, so why not??

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Our church service usually lasts a bit more than 2 ½ hours: an hour for a devotional and singing; an hour for the sermon and the kids have Sunday School during that time, and ½ an hour for prayer, then announcements etc. Ukrainians have very fluid starting and ending times and the believers love to stay and fellowship together as long as they can.

These pictures were taken last winter, early on in the service before the chairs got filled up. Ironically, we meet in an army driving school, hence the stuff on the walls.

Sometimes the puppet team, of which Melody is the leader, does a show. They are always well done, and a great favorite.

A dear lurker in Lakeside, California, and another dear lurker living on Ul. Cubinskia, and dear Wildflowerwendy.

I've modified and added to this list forwarded to me by email.

YOU KNOW YOU'VE BEEN IN UKRAINE “TOO LONG” WHEN...

· You are impressed with the new model Lada or Volga car.

· You don't think things are that bad right now.

· You say he/she is 'on the meeting' (instead of 'at the' or 'in a' meeting).

· You answer the phone by saying 'allo, allo, allo' before giving the caller a chance to respond.

· You save table scraps for the cats and dogs living in the garbage bins.

· When crossing the street, you sprint.

· In winter, you choose your route by determining which icicles are least likely to impale you in the head.

· You win a shoving match with an old babushka for a place in line and you are proud of it.

· You are shocked and surprised when there is toilet paper in the public WC.

· You're not sure what to do when the traffic cop only asks you to pay the official fine.

· You plan your vacation around those times of the year when the hot water is turned off.

· You never expect to be served a cold drink.

· You change into tapki (slippers) and wash your hands as soon as you walk into your apartment.

   You know you'll never fully trust an elevator ever again for your whole life

· You take a trip to Budapest and think you've been to heaven.

· You start shopping for products by their country of production.

· You begin to refer to locals as nashi (ours).

· You know more than 60 Olgas.

· You are rude to people for no reason.

· You've been to most countries in Europe to renew visas.

· Cigarette smoke becomes 'tolerable'.

· You think metal doors are a necessity.

· You no longer feel like going to your 'home' country.

· You speak to other expats in your native language, but forget a few of the simplest words and throw in some Russian ones.

· You no longer miss the foods you grew up with, and pass them up at foreign-owned supermarkets.

· You look for kvas and kefir in the supermarket, and ask to buy half a head of cabbage.

· You don't feel guilty about not paying on the trolleybus.

· The elevator aroma seems reassuring somehow.

· You can heat water on the stove and shower with it in less than 10 minutes.

· You prefer the local “sandpaper” toilet paper because it doesn’t disintegrate like foreign toilet paper.

· You catch yourself whistling indoors and feel guilty.

· You never smile in public when you're alone.

· You know the official at the metro station/airport/ border post/post office/railway station etc. etc. is going to say nyet, but you argue anyway.

· That strange pungent mix of odors of stale sawdust, sweat and grime in the metro makes you feel safe and at home...

· You are in awe that after 3 days back in North America your shoes are still clean.

· You dress up in your best outfits to go to the local open market.

· A gallon of gasoline or milk seems like a foreign concept.

· The word 'salad' ceases for you to have anything to do with lettuce.

· Mayonnaise becomes your dressing of choice.

· You begin paying attention to peoples' floors and can distinguish the quality of linoleum and/or parquet, and thus determine social status, taste, and income e.g. embezzled, earned, pension, unpaid, etc.)

· You do all your shopping at kiosks.

· You voluntarily take a stroll in the park, ice-cream in hand, on a sub-zero day.

· You are no longer surprised when your taxi driver tells you that before Perestroika he worked as a rocket scientist.

· You laugh at Russian jokes.

· You actually get these jokes.

· You actually spend time writing these jokes!

· You continue to 'cross' the number 7 back in North America.

  You continue to use the trash can in the bathroom for your paper rather than flushing when you’re back in North America.

· You are dumbstruck back in North America when high school or college students wait on you with a smile, reciting a 90 second spiel on the 'specials of the day' and display complete knowledge of the contents of each menu item...

· You realize that all the above and the other messages on this subject posted here are what you love about Ukriane, that you've been here long enough to feel at home and wonder whether you'll ever able to fit back in the old country...