Domestic Violence

Man tries to hit Lance in the face while "wife" stands by.

The scene started by Lance and Joey stopped when a woman said help.

Pulled away the man takes the woman away as no one else helps.

Fireworks are going off for tourists right now around the large statue located in the heart of the city.  Life goes on and never stops to consider those caught in the middle. I came across a domestic violence case which could have been a trafficking victim case. A woman was being hit and asked for help. My two friends were in the center of it as I filmed from a far.  I tried not to escalate the scene with my filming. The man yelled “Paparazzi” and lowered his head and came at me. “What should I do, What should I do” I asked Lance as he came towards me. Dreams of punching an attacker in the face with my camera did not come to me at that moment I saw his eyes look at me the same way the man did on my last day in Uganda. The students in line for icecream made a path for the man right to me. “Dont fight him”. Lance said as calmly as I asked him. Lance was not fighting him, I was not going to fight him.  He grabbed me as I turned from a punch and he ripped my favorite shirt off (fortunately the buttons went and the fabric was ok) and had me in a half nelson type thing. Things seem long when you don’t know when or how they are going to end. He let go and got back to his woman after I did not pose a fight. He was like a drunk caged gorilla wanting to show his strength but confused to who to go after. He grabbed his woman and I kept following Lance. I was praying. Lance kept on trying to give the girl information about domestic violence and to see where go to for help. We thought she might have been trafficked because of her accent which sounded a bit spanish. My camera does not have a good auto focus system so i followed the best i could judging focus without looking the viewfinder. I held it around my waist to kill suspision. I still don’t know how to photograph these types of situations. But I need to know. We followed the man for a few minutes as he walked around trying to lose us. Eventually the woman wanted us to leave and asked us in english, “I live on the streets, i sleep, you and your friends, go, sleep. Go, sleep.” I think she was trying to get rid of us so he would not beat her more than he was going to. Lance kept pursuing the two of them following them around. I kept following. Then they stopped. the girl came to us and told us one more time to go. Lance told her more infomation on domestic violence then told her where to go to find us. She left and the guy came over to talk with us. Lance talked him out of his aggression and he eventually calmed down and shook my hand and said sorry for ripping my shirt, in ukrainian of coures. “Da”. I said. Then, “Drooga, drooga, drooga”. He was a bit startled it looked like when I said those words. I followed with those three words looking him the eyes shaking his hand firmly. Causes can’t be stopped, hearts can be changed though, and the love of Christ is so strong that it transcends all understanding. I can see now why Sergey never goes home. The tipping point of domestic violence. Pray for those two. His name is Andre.  yes. i am fine. I filmed the whole thing but it much of it is not in focus.

Deliver

Without caring parents, social services delivers Sergey to his new home.

When God delivers us, the benifit is often not for ourselves or even our generation. Like Moses freeing his people, in the joy you have, think past yourself to others who will benifit too.

We have so much in common with orphans when it comes to our relationship with God. 830 in the Morning happend quickly. The two hour ride out to Vasilkof orphanage was cut down to 45 minutes in the YWAM van. I focused photo/video on the Sergey and a few other boys. I couldn’t find Vova until he came up to me after the ceremony. I only met him yesterday and he had a hat on. Today everyone looked amazing. Vova had a great suit on. There was a few speeches, there was a man behind the curtain playing the accordion. could have sworn he was a recording until he stepped out from behind a curtain. One woman sang a few songs kareoke style with some dancers and then an old dude sang a few more ending his traditional song set with a techno song, that he sang to. There were lots of flowers and lots of women in the audience. I have a few pics of vova i think. I didn’t find Bob.

Social services came immediately after the graduation to take sergey away since his father did not come. in an interview sergey said his father was dead. in the second interview he said his father was an alcoholic and when he was a child, his father stabbed his mother. sergey walked in on that. After his father went to jail his mother put sergey in to the orphan system where he has been since. Neither his father nor mother came so as state law goes,  social services had to come to deliver him to a boys home. I asked sergey if I could come along to where he was being taken. he asked the driver who said yes so i cruised to the new house. I didn’t understand most of the conversation between the new landlords and my two friends, but I can read body language very well. The Landlords were happy. The boys were everything but excited to be there. Sergey didn’t even know where he was going when he left the orhanage. He cried on the way there. Sergey wears his heart on his sleave which is why I think we connect.  he wasn’t alone on the voyage there, there was a sasha, who spoke italian. Each step of friendship with Sergey has requeired another orphan who spoke Italian. Sasha has no parents and God placed him in the van with us so I could tell him that God has a program for us. All of us.  When we were delivered to the house in a red van I noticed a disconnect that the two boys had with their surroundings. As if they had to put their hearts in another gear to make themselves know this was going to be home for an unknown amount of time.

Neither of them like the new house which is in a small town northwest of kyiv. the walls are blank and there is no tv, no friends. I want to support Sergey with 200 a month. That is 20 friends, 10 dollars a month. For 5 months at first.

I took out sasha and sergey to dinner tonight where we ate a lot of food at a Ukrainian buffet style dinner. Sasha seemed to order the same potatoes and salad he would eat at the orphanage. Taste buds don’t work for anything else after so many years he motioned. Except this time the potatoes weren’t cooked well. His fork couldn’t go through it without pressure.

Sergey and I talk with 3 words. Jesus. Drooga (friend) and Pamoche (Help). “Jesus, Drooga. Sergey, Drooga” I tell him.

I learned a lot about the commitment it takes to know an orphan. It is a lot.

Graduation

When the elevator doors opened up the three walls brought a sort of comfort no other elevator has ever given me in my history of travel. A photo of a lifesize coat rack on the left. A window view of some trees in the middle. And a flower pot with some red flowers on the right. The 13 floor is now where I sit with an exquisite view of post communist architecture glowing with a post communist sunset. The morning started with me opening my eyes and realizien g I was late to go to t ameeting with a man who does a lot of work with trafficking. He lord willing was going to open up doors of vision for this documentary. I was without a strong sense of direction up until now.
I jumped on a bus after eating at TGI fridays and headed to meet with Sergey and Egenia. That meeting went great and i bought them pizza. the greatest part was when they asked me, Why did you come out here (2 hours by bus). I said, To show you Gods love by buying you pizza.
i am a man of my word. i told them. so much more happened that I wont talk about right now.

much love.

The Beginning and Now

Landing in ukraine I looked out the window full of condensation at the land i just left, a land that is familiar after only 15 days. Repeating to myself again as the task ahead became larger and more real to me like the trees and houses out my window. And the pilot starts talking as I start whispering to myself, “what am i doing here?” The 845 morning sky with it’s horizon towards red still scatters the rain as the silhouette cranes building homes for the wealthy dot every so often.

My head rests on the seat. The dash to the customs line is now like a ballet to me. All numbers are memorized and I recite them like a poem explaining to my customs card the details of my passport, explaining to the Delta agent the details of my frequent flier number. All numbers are memorized.
The melodies of the morning. God has protected me. Customs done, now I need to wait for ride. Prompting with more international body language and a bit of russian I ask a few girls if I can sit next to them. With their russian body language and a lot more russian, they respond as I stare blankly. They caught on I knew no russian besides, “Can I” and thus english was brought to the table “You must buy something to sit here”.

In June of 1994 I left with my 8th grade class on the 8th grade class trip to Tahoe. I learned there that the quaking aspen had leaves that tell you before any other tree, the direction of the wind. With the breeze coming off the river I see the same trees telling me of that same direction.

Its 446 am and I am wide awake as the remaining drinkers from last night stumble past my boat laughing.

I am going to Ukraine

So, I am sorry I have not written anything about my life lately.  My first Ukraine trip was the best trip of my life and now God is calling me not only back there in 4 days for one month, but to much much more. I am sad Detroit lost. I will write Sunday.

Love Wins.

Wings Loss