The idea was to give donated digital cameras to children so that they could show us their perspective on the world.  As a pilot run, we gave a camera to a feisty little six year old named Marika (hence the name of the project).  Her “assignment” was to capture Mission to Ukraine’s summer camp from her point of view.

On our upcoming trips to Haiti, India and Cambodia we will continue to give cameras to children so that we can post their work here on World Next Door.

But for now, it’s time to kick off our inaugural Marika Project Photo Gallery…

 

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We are continuing to collect gently used digital cameras for future Marika Project locations.  If you would like to donate yours, please fill out the form below.

For the last couple of weeks, the interns and I have been all over the place.  We’ve been hanging out at Mission to Ukraine’s two summer camps, going to Banyas, and even taking trains all the way across Ukraine!

Lauren on the train out to our retreat in the Carpathian Mountains. Also, the photo at the top of the page is Krystallin.

We’re learning a ton about the Ukrainian people, about disabilities, about orphans, and especially about ourselves.  The only problem with all of this is that we’ve had next to no internet access the whole time.

Sure, I’ve been able to zip back to Zhytomyr for a night every now and then to send a few articles off to be posted on the website, but for the most part we’ve been completely in the dark.

Anyway, since I am not able to check the articles when they go live, I’ve made two big mistakes that I feel should be addressed.

First of all, the recent Culture Guide, “Surviving Dinner,” was not, in fact, written by me (as it indicated at the bottom of the article).  It was written by our intern Lauren Schneider!  It was a simple mistake on my part, but one that took a few days for me to notice.  Oops!

Sorry Lauren. 

Chris checking out some graffiti in the city of L’Viv. So far I haven’t messed up any of his articles. I suppose it’s just a matter of time!

The second mistake I’ve made is probably a bit more serious.  Krystallin’s recent article, “Curbs Without Ramps,” was a fantastic perspective on the limitations faced by those with disabilities in Zhytomyr.  Unfortunately, due to a mix up in files, I accidentally posted her first rough draft instead of the polished final version.

Once again, I didn’t realize my mistake until it was too late! While we were having a blast at camp, everyone back home was reading Krystallin’s rough draft.

Needless to say, with both of these mistakes I feel just terrible.  I just hope that our end-of-summer retreat in Italy will help the girls to forgive me. 

Anyway, thanks again for being such committed readers.  More powerful and engaging articles are on the way!

Stay tuned…

A raised finger, a lifted eyebrow, a shrug… Each gesture is pregnant with meaning and interpreted by our brains in the blink of an eye.

But imagine for a moment what life would be like if you couldn’t control your gestures.  Imagine if something as simple as a wave of your hand took a few seconds of complete concentration…

People would have difficulty understanding you.  You would appear strange and different.  And one of the most crucial aspects of your life would be drastically changed: interpersonal communication.

Dima, mentally healthy but physically disabled.

Well, for many people with cerebral palsy, this is exactly what life is like.  Misunderstandings, frustration, pain…

But for one young man at the Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, being misunderstood has led to more than just frustration.  For Dima, being unable to communicate could very well cost him his life…

Another

If you’ve been reading World Next Door for a while, you’ve heard all about the Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage and the incredible story of Peter, an orphan there who was adopted by a wonderful Ukrainian family.

With companions that cannot speak, Dima will never receive the social, emotional and mental development he needs.

Peter, a mentally healthy boy with muscular dystrophy, was kept in the severely disabled section of the orphanage.  Even though he could think and read and learn, he was trapped in a prison of maltreatment.  There was little hope for him until a brave family of Christ followers here in Zhytomyr and a group of dedicated financial sponsors from the U.S. got together to rescue him.

But Peter was not the only boy in his position.  There was another.

His name is Dima.  And he is still trapped at Romaniv.

Dima

As I mentioned above, Dima has cerebral palsy.  Because of a traumatic event (e.g. lack of oxygen, blood toxicity, shaken baby syndrome, etc.) that happened to him early in his brain’s development, he has a very hard time controlling his body.

His arms occasionally flail around, he has difficulty walking, and often he simply can’t quite get his body to do what he wants it to do.

But looking into Dima’s eyes, you can see the truth.  Dima is mentally healthy.  Just like Peter, he can think, grow and learn.

Unfortunately, his caretakers don’t understand this.  As I’ve mentioned before, they have no training in working with the disabled.  They see his tightly clenched fists, they see the drool on his chin, and they assume that he is stupid.

Romaniv is improving, it will take more than toys to help Dima become fully healthy.

They don’t hug him.  They don’t teach him.  They don’t even speak to him.

But Dima is far from stupid.  With a little consistent education, Dima could make some incredible leaps in his development.  He could learn.  He could grow.  He could live.

After attending Mission to Ukraine’s summer camp last year, he was like a new person.  He was alert, energetic and talkative.  At camp he laughed and played with the American volunteers, he talked on the phone with his best friend Peter and he told Oksana his heart’s desire:  “I want to go home too.”

Far From Home

Instead, he went back to Romaniv.

Dima went back to a place where he is ignored.  Back to a place where nobody talks to him.  Back to a place where his only companions are boys with terribly debilitating mental and physical impairments…

One year later, being ignored has taken its toll.  Now he is easily distracted.  His responses are sluggish. Like a shipwreck survivor coming back to civilization, he seems a bit like he’s in another world.

And while physically his needs are being met, in a very real way his life is in danger.

Dima learning the story of baby Moses in the basket. It’s both exciting and heartbreaking to see his capacity for growth.

If he continues to be left in an environment like Romaniv, Dima will sink further inwards.  Without consistent, meaningful interactions with people, his emotional isolation could become permanent.

It breaks my heart to think that this sweet, gentle young man could spend the rest of his life trapped in an unnecessary prison, lacking the love and affection he so desperately needs to grow.

Hope

Thankfully, there is hope for Dima.

With the right ingredients, he too can be adopted by a Ukrainian family.  But before I tell you what those ingredients are, I’d like you to watch this video and meet Dima yourself!

(Sorry about how distracted I am in the video.  As you can hear, it’s hard to focus in such a noisy place…)

Finding Dima a Home

So what would it take to get Dima adopted like little Peter?  How can we rescue this beautiful young man from the terrible conditions he is living in now?

Well, as I said above, it will take three crucial ingredients.

First, of course, it will take God’s powerful hand.  With Peter, the unbelievable became possible in less time than I could have ever imagined.  This time, I won’t let my faith be so puny.  If God can really move mountains (Matthew 17:20), then it will be no sweat for him to find Dima a home.

Dima needs a home. Will you step up to help that become a reality?

Second, we will need a Ukrainian family to step up to the call.  This is not an easy thing to ask for.  A family adopting Dima will need to be gentle, compassionate, patient and secure in their identity.  In this culture, having a disabled child is still viewed as a great dishonor.  And as we’ve seen already, this city is not exactly an ideal place for the disabled to live.

Third and finally, we will need to find financial sponsors to help cover the $300 a month that Dima’s new family will need to take care of him.  And here’s the deal: I want you to be one of those sponsors.

Through it all, we will need to pray… To pray that hearts would be softened.  To pray that the money and family would be found.  And to pray that the kingdom of God would move.

Will You Step Up?

So there you have it.  The most explicit call I’ve ever made for you to step up and get into the game.

You’ve read all about the Romaniv Orphanage.  You’ve rejoiced with me about Peter’s adoption.  Now it’s time for you to act… and play an integral part in the rescue of one beautiful young man that needs your help now.

Will you pledge your finances?  Will you commit to spread the word?  Will you pray?

If so, sign up below.  And let’s find Dima a home!

Well thanks to you, the readers of World Next Door, I was able to experience just that… when Marika got her very first camera.

The Marika Project

A little over a week ago, I wrote about a remarkable little girl at Mission to Ukraine who seemed to have a real talent for photography.  Her name was Marika.  Although blind in one eye due to a tumor when she was an infant, she radiates joy and life everywhere she goes.

Marika, a very talented little girl! (photo by Amy Gentry)

Watching her take pictures with my camera gave me the idea of giving used digital cameras to some of the kids at MTU’s summer camps to get their perspective on the week.  The plan is to post their best pictures here on World Next Door at the end of the summer so that you can share in their point of view.

Marika with her very first camera. (photo by Krystallin Baker)

I called the idea “The Marika Project,” and now it has officially begun!

The First Camera

Since posting the article, we have had four cameras donated (one of which has already made it to Ukraine!).  So, a few days after camp began, I presented Marika with her very first digital camera.

For someone like me who loves giving gifts, it was heaven.

After I placed the camera in her hand, Marika was stunned.  For a second, she couldn’t even look at the camera she was so surprised.  Her mother, standing behind her, was completely blown away.

Of course, for an outgoing girl like Marika, it only took a few moments before the shock wore off.  Within minutes, she was snapping pictures like she’d been doing it for years.  People, buildings, flowers… I can’t wait to see her pictures when the week is through!

I’ll continue to keep you posted as the other cameras are given out. And there is still a bit more time for those of you interested in donating your camera (see below for more info).

For now, enjoy the video of Marika getting her very first camera!

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If you would like to participate in the Marika Project, please sign up below. We’ll be in touch with you soon with more details.

Peter, an orphan with muscular dystrophy at the terrible Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, was adopted by none other than the family that hosted me while I was in Ukraine. Even cooler (for me at least), was the fact that the adoption was made possible by financial sponsors from the U.S., many of whom were readers of World Next Door!

The Story Begins

I first wrote about the Romaniv Orphanage back in April of 2009 (click here to read the article). A couple of weeks later I introduced Peter through another article (click here). Then, within two months, I had the pleasure of announcing his adoption by Yuri Levtchenko and his family (click here).

The whole story of Peter’s adoption is recapped in this video we produced for WND’s first anniversary celebration:

It was a beautiful homecoming. A powerful tale. But it turns out that the story was far from over.

So here, as they say, is the rest of the story…

An Incredible Year

The original arrangement for Peter’s adoption by Yuri’s family was a temporary one. Peter would live with them for a year, followed by an evaluation by the state government.

Peter with one of his new sisters. She’s hilarious…

Even though this deadline loomed on the horizon, nothing could hide the beauty and joy of his homecoming. For a year at least, Peter would be safe.

And what a year it was… For the first time in a decade, Peter was living in a home. He had a family. A mother, a father, siblings! Nobody was beating him. Nobody was yelling at him. Peter was being loved.

Peter’s new brothers and sisters accepted him immediately. They included him in their games, watched movies with him and laughed… a lot.

Ira, Peter’s new mother, gladly stepped in to fulfill the maternal duties that Peter had never experienced. She bathed him, dressed him and loved him as if he was her own. All the while, Yuri carried Peter back and forth from his room, drove him around town and taught him things like any good father would.

Peter’s new family!

Of course, Peter still had to deal with many of the psychological ramifications of being discarded and abused, and this was a constant struggle for his parents. The first time his family brought him to MTU for classes, he wept uncontrollably, thinking that he was being abandoned again. For a child as scarred as Peter, recovery would be a long road.

In time, however, his emotional wounds did begin to heal. He began to smile. To laugh. As his family held him and fed him and played with him, Peter’s life finally began to change.

An Unexpected Turn

But things were not idyllic forever. At the end of the year, the state government performed their evaluation. After seeing Yuri’s small house and his seven children running all over the place (eight if you count Peter), they decided that Yuri only wanted to adopt Peter for the pension money he would receive for Peter’s disability. Their hearts were hardened and nothing could convince them of the truth.

Peter and his sisters. They adore him…

As part of the evaluation, these officials visited Romaniv Orphanage to see the living conditions there for themselves. However, because the orphanage staff didn’t want to be embarrassed, they only allowed the state officials to see the inside of one room – a nicely furnished conference room used solely for visiting guests.

After seeing this sugar-coated image of the orphanage (and after stumbling through a lot of bureaucratic inefficiency and lost paperwork), the state officials declared that the living conditions were far better for Peter at Romaniv than at Yuri’s home. Then they made a decision that absolutely baffled anyone who knew the family.

They decided that until further paperwork went through and until all the competing bureaucracies sorted themselves out, Peter would have to go back to Romaniv.

Everyone who knew Peter understood that this would shatter his trust forever. It would be unspeakably devastating. But the decision had been made. One year after leaving Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, Peter was forced to return.

Numb

I remember hearing this news for the first time. I was shocked. What would this do to Peter’s new foundation of hope? Isn’t being abandoned again the one thing he has always feared? Would Peter ever trust again?

Peter’s youngest sister. Absolutely adorable!

I admit that I began to feel a sense of numb helplessness about the whole situation. I thought this story already had a happy ending… How could this happen?

But for Yuri, Peter’s new father, numb helplessness never entered into the equation. For him, the whole situation boiled down to one simple fact: “My son needs me. I will not abandon him.”

So, in a move that left the jaws of the state officials on the ground, Yuri did the only thing he could think to do. He moved into Romaniv Orphanage with Peter.

He didn’t know how long he would be living there. He didn’t know how it would end. But for a dedicated father whose son was in need, Yuri didn’t even think twice.

In a country where conforming to the norm is often valued above all else, Yuri’s bold move put a lot of pressure on the state officials. Fearing a public spectacle, the officials quickly “found” the lost paperwork, attained the correct signatures and finally allowed Peter to return to his rightful home.

Although his family is far from wealthy, Yuri cannot help but throw a feast any time he has guests!

After three days, Peter was once again taken out of Romaniv. This time, however, something was different. This time, Peter’s adoption was permanent.

On April 30th, 2010, Peter came home… For good.

A Glimpse of the Kingdom

The other day I had the chance to have dinner with Yuri, Ira and the kids. We laughed and played and talked. We ate and ate and ate.

And as I looked across the room at the wide, beautiful smile on Peter’s face, I knew that I was being given a glimpse of the kingdom of God.

In the banquet of the kingdom, the broken of the world are honored guests. The outcast and forgotten are sons. And there sat Peter. A full tummy. A clean body. And eyes that sparkled with joy.

Peter is home now. Though his body is weak and he may not have much longer to live, he will spend the rest of his days wrapped in the arms of a loving family.

And when he does some day leave this broken world, he will be well used to the phrase he hears soon after.

“My beloved son… Welcome home.”

MTU’s new playground is a beautiful place for kids to play!

The commissioning was great.  One of the classes of disabled children put on a little skit, we sang songs, there were snacks… But one of the coolest things happened when I met a little girl named Marika.

Before the ceremony began, I was goofing off with a few of the kids; doing magic tricks, taking pictures, making silly faces… At one point, I impulsively decided to let one of the little girls use my camera.  I put the strap around her neck, showed her which button to push, and let her snap away.

To my surprise, she seemed to know what she was doing.  She was framing pictures well, reviewing her shots after she had taken them… she was a natural!

Marika (right) with her classmates before the ceremony.

Her name, as I found out later, is Marika.  She is six years old.  She was born with a malignant tumor in her head, causing her to lose vision in her left eye.  Although the tumor is now gone, the doctors say she must always live with the chance that it could return.

It’s a sad story, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.  Marika’s playful smile is contagious. Her energy and life is evident in the way she runs and laughs and plays.  Marika is still a six year old girl, and no disability can keep her from living that out.

After the ceremony, Marika ran up to me and said “Photografia!”

I thought she wanted her picture taken, so I lifted the camera to my eye.

“Nyet, nyet, nyet…” she said with a smile, and held out her hand. She wanted to take the pictures.

What else could I do?  I put the strap around her neck and watched as she snapped more photos.

One of Marika’s photos. It’s hard not to smile when she’s the one taking the picture!

As Marika walked around the new playground taking pictures of people, I was struck with an idea.  What if she had a camera of her own?  What if Marika could take pictures of her life?  Of her world?

Then my imagination started running a little wild.  What if a bunch of the kids at MTU’s upcoming summer camps had cameras?  What if they documented the camps from their perspective?  That would be an awesome way to show just how powerful their summer programs can be!

And of course, within seconds, it already had a name… The Marika Project!

Another shot by Marika. I’m telling you. This girl has a gift!

It’s a very do-able idea.  All it will take is a few donated digital cameras to get it started.

But gee… Where in the world could I find a bunch of used digital cameras? (That’s sarcasm by the way…) 

If you’re anything like me, you’ve got an older digital camera collecting dust in your closet right now.  Would you consider giving it as a gift to Mission to Ukraine?

With your help, we can get cameras into the hands of Marika and her friends, we can give them an opportunity to express themselves, and we can show off the fantastic work of MTU in a brand new way.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to see the look on Marika’s face when she holds her very first camera…

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If you would like to participate in the Marika Project, please sign up below.  We’ll be in touch with you soon with more details.

Back in April 2009, when I saw the orphanage for the first time (click here to read about that experience), Mission to Ukraine had only been making their weekly visits for a year.

I was shocked to see so much color on Romaniv’s property.

Although it was obvious that MTU’s presence was having a huge impact on the boys, the orphanage was still a terrible, hellish place run by negligent caretakers and filled with the stench of squalor. As we drove towards the orphanage this time, I wondered what, if anything, had changed.

As we got close to Romaniv, Oksana turned to me and said, “Get ready.  There is a big surprise waiting for you there!”

“A surprise?” I thought.  “What in the world could she mean?”

I pondered this as we pulled up to the orphanage.  We unloaded the van and started walking to the classroom building.  That was when I did my first double take.

Flowers.  Lots of flowers!  Large, pink blossoms interspersed with yellow and red.  Row after row of pretty blue blossoms lining the path.

But that wasn’t all.   There were painted, rainbow colored benches.  Between the buildings there were picnic tables with bright green canopies above them.

Brand new desks (not cheap!) are a symbol of something much more profound going on beneath the surface.

This property, which once looked like an abandoned lot, now teemed with color and life.  I was shocked.

But then we went inside, and my shock turned to utter amazement.  There, on the floor of the once empty classroom was a semicircle of bright green and yellow desks.  The walls that used to have only old wooden benches were now home to colorfully painted bookshelves overflowing with toys.

The smell wasn’t bad at all.  The boys were clean and dressed.  And as they sat down to begin their weekly class, I heard something I never would have expected… silence.

When Mission to Ukraine started coming to the orphanage two years ago it was literally impossible for these boys to even form a line.  They were out of control.  Filthy.

Now, here they were sitting quietly, raising their hands when they wanted to participate, learning about the seasons and doing the motions to their favorite songs.  They took turns playing games, followed along as they learned a story from the Bible and jumped in with shouts of joy when it was time for their favorite pastime: making bracelets out of beads.

Playing games with a beach ball!

I sat with a couple of the boys and thought about how different everything was from just one year ago.  The joy, the life, the energy… it was all so surprising and new.  Then, during a break in the lesson, I heard the most shocking thing of all.

“We didn’t buy any of this,” Oksana told me. “The desks, the bookshelves, the flowers… It was all bought by the orphanage’s administration.”

Hearing this took my breath away.  This is the same administration that initially resisted the idea of MTU coming to visit once a week.  These are the people who once rolled their eyes and told the MTU folks, “You’re wasting your time… these boys are hopeless. They’re like animals.”

In the course of two years, Mission to Ukraine’s stubborn persistence and never-ending love for these boys has led to a radical transformation in the lives of not just the children, but their caretakers as well.  For the first time in this orphanage’s history, the staff is beginning to invest in the lives of these boys… to do more than the bare minimum.

Beading is the boys’ favorite hobby.

The kingdom of God, like a steady breeze, has been blowing away the smoke and the shadows in this place once filled only with hopelessness.

As we drove away from the orphanage, I thought about the beauty of what I had just seen.

In Matthew 25, Jesus implored his disciples to care for “the least of these.”  In just about every way I can think of, these boys fit that description completely.  The men and women of Mission to Ukraine have been following that call for two years, and their efforts are beginning to bear tremendous fruits.

But my thoughts then drifted to the bigger picture.

The truth is, all this transformation at Romaniv is only a glimmer of light in a much greater sea of darkness.  Within the very same region of Ukraine is an orphanage for disabled girls.  But the administration of that orphanage will not even let the staff of MTU come to visit.  Their hearts are hardened and only God’s direct intervention will begin to soften them.

And then there are the systemic injustices that make orphanages like Romaniv necessary in the first place; deep cultural stigmas attached to parents of disabled children, a broken governmental support system, widespread poverty…

Hope in the most unlikely of places…

There is much work to do if we ever want to see an end to the hopeless conditions once found at Romaniv.  There are many more walls to smash down before the kingdom can truly shine here in Ukraine.

But until that day comes, you and I can be confident of one thing… the staff of Mission to Ukraine will be here in Zhytomyr: hugging a girl with Down syndrome, wiping the chin of a boy with cerebral palsy, helping a girl with muscular dystrophy sit up straight in her chair and tying a beaded bracelet for a boy at Romaniv.

They’ll be here because they’ve tasted the kingdom of God.  They’ll be here because they’ve seen the hope of the gospel.

And they’ll be here because to their God, nothing is impossible…

So far, the experience has been fantastic. We’ve all really connected with our Ukrainian host ministries, we had a wonderful visit to the Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage (more on that soon!), and there has been a steady IV drip of delicious Borscht flowing into our bodies pretty much since we arrived.

Our interns Krystallin, Lauren and Chris at the Frankfurt airport.

In the next day or two, we will begin posting articles, travel journals, photo galleries and culture guides from our time in Zhytomyr. Some will be funny, some will be heart-breaking, but all, we hope, will inspire you to take the next steps in your journey towards a life committed to social justice, care for the oppressed and a deep desire to see the kingdom of God come in this world.

The team. I can’t wait to see what God has in store for us this summer!

I encourage you to make it a commitment to read all of our content this summer. A few minutes over coffee in the morning or during a break at work… that is all it will take.

In return, we will open your eyes to an exciting and often surprising part of the world. We will inspire you with stories of ordinary people who are living brave and selfless lives. We will give you practical ways to get involved with the organizations we write about…

And through it all, we will give you the opportunity to watch your own life be transformed!

So what are you waiting for? Add our site to your bookmarks, subscribe to our articles via email (click here), and get ready to go on a journey into the world next door!

To my surprise, it was Jole, who I had written about at the end of my New York trip!  (Click here to read the article)

In the article, I talked about my experience taking Jole to The Bowery Mission.  Jole, who had been homeless for more than a decade, was ready to turn his life around and begin the six-month program there.

As he checked into the Bowery, I knew that the odds were against him.  With the beautiful summer weather outside and his newly kicked habit of cigarette smoking, it was going to be very hard for Jole to stay committed to the program.

But there, on the phone, was a man who had overcome those odds.

Sure, he had only been staying at the Bowery Mission for a month and a half, but his life had already been changed forever.  In fact, he had accompanied the Bowery’s director, Tom Basile, to the Relief Bus staff meeting to tell his story of transformation.

We didn’t get to talk long.  Just enough to exchange a few words of greeting.  I tried to express how excited I was for him, but for the most part, I was simply speechless.

I’ll admit.  In my heart, I had definitely entertained some doubts about whether Jole would stick around.  But as I hung up the phone, I realized something significant…

The odds don’t matter to God.