If the Orthodox Easter Sunday is the high holy day of the Orthodox Church then today (May 1 or “May Day”) is the high holy day of communism. The celebration of “May Day” has marked a varied mix of festivals throughout man’s civilization. I and a number of others reading this can well recall the massive parades in Moscow’s Red Square when the chill of the Cold War held the world in paranoia’s grasp. Thankfully those days are now experienced only as one reads the pages of modern history but to a number of citizens of the former USSR this day remains a day exalting the State. This is a day when practically no one works. There are parades and demonstrations that focus upon the once assumed supremacy. Although all are on holiday today not all are focused on the past. Each year there are fewer that reminisce the days of the USSR. Today most were out enjoying the sunny periods between the rain and thunder showers. As for me today was a day spent putting things in order from being out of Donetsk in Krivy Rog the past days. Today’s report is the recollection of that brief trip.

Krivy Rog is a city of one-million located in the middle of Ukraine. It is in the Dnepropetrovsk Oblast. Krivy Rog was once scheduled to be the capitol of the Oblast but political maneuvers moved the capitol away from it and to Dnepropetrovsk. Krivy Rog is a steel city and is largely industrial. There is one congregation in Krivy Rog that was started by Volodya Scoleba a couple of years ago when Volodya left Mezhevaya. About two moths ago there was an interesting development regarding Krivy Rog. The US Ambassador in Kyiv received a letter pleading for help. He sent an urgent message to DC and it passed through two others before I heard, “John, we have just been given this message from the Ambassador in Kyiv from _____. This is one of those things that when we get it we immediately drop everything and put all focus on it. It concerns Ukraine so I wanted to call you and see what you thought.” As we continued talking I asked about the location. “Well it is a strange name. Two words and I do not know how to pronounce them.” As we talked I had pulled up a map of Ukraine and was ready to see where the request originated. The contact in Washington had the name spelled in Russian but soon I recognized it was Krivy Rog. I replied, “This is no problem. In fact we distributed some items there last fall and I have already sent the thank you letters to the churches of Christ and you can look through the report.” “Do you think you might have someone go there and check on this request?” “I can easily do that because there is a congregation located there. “Let me check and I will get back to you.” I then sent an email to Tanya and Ivan telling them of the situation and the haste required to give some report. The next day I received an email informing me that our brethren had made the contact and I had a written report that I forwarded onto Washington.

Last fall parts of three containers that had been shipped into Kyiv were taken into Krivy Rog and distributed to various hospitals in the area. Parts of these containers were taken over to Ivano-Frankivsk where a group of us distributed items in the villages and Ron Swang began the work of putting together a dental clinic in Staryy Lisets.  I went to Krivy Rog to follow-up on the distribution and to visit with the brethren there. Ivan Skoleba was to meet me and take me to various meetings that he had arranged.

The road that should never be travelled…

The easiest way to get to Krivy Rog is not by overland bus but that is the way my travel was scheduled. It has been several years since I went via bus to a location in Ukraine. On that memorable bus trip I had stood outside in below freezing temps only to board a bus that had to have been heated to a toasty oven broiling temp only to be seated by the carcass of a butchered hog that was on its way back to the village. For two hours that hog’s head and I were road travelers in the closest possible proximity. With the very mention of an over-the-land bus ride those memories of yesteryear suddenly became a frightening flashback of “here-we-go-again”!

We went to the bus station to get tickets early so we would have a reserved seat. This is another improvement from the way things used to be here. In past years there were no assigned seats and it was catch-as-catch-can from every line to any vacant trolley bus seat. I recall thinking of those times as very similar to the news reports showing the manic shoppers lined up on Black Friday for some unbelievable sale item. But now all is civil and as you purchase a ticket you are given a seat assignment. So we were up early and off to the bus station where we stood in three lines at once (do not ask me how that is done but each time I go to buy tickets Tanya has me standing in several different lines at one time). We got our tickets and went back to our scheduled meetings only to hear from Volodya Scoleba (the preacher in Krivy Rog) that we had bought tickets for a bus that would take 10-12 hours but there was a faster way if we bought tickets on a trolley van instead of the larger bus. This way was to shave off five hours of travel time. So back to the bus station standing in several ticket lines at the same time and then jumping into the front of the line that first gets to the cashier. In trading tickets we lost 34 grivena on each ticket but it is worth $18+ to save five hours. Right? With the change of tickets our departure time was later but our arrival time was to be the same. We arrived and boarded the van bus. Upon entering I immediately felt the heat that is typical of a van that has been sitting in the sun without ventilation. There were windows but all were closed because no one over here wants to become ill due to sitting in a draft. Our assigned seats were two rows from the rear of the bus. The seats were designed to recline but there was no room for the backs to recline and the back of the seats is designed not for comfort of the neck. More and more passengers entered until all seats were filled and some rather large bodies were trying to stand in the narrow aisle and were 2/3 successful while their remaining 1/3 spilled over into the space of the seated passengers. The numerous bodies significantly increased the heat factor. The lack of ventilation caused a suffocating feeling that was exacerbated by the pungent odors of winter clothing that were long past ready for a fresh spring cleaning. Those seated were in a hole looking up to those standing. And then the bus ride started. I looked to Tanya and asked, “How long is this going to take?” “Only as long as it takes us to be there.” Oh…I failed to mention that there are no toilet facilities on these busses. There are no potty stops. It is a extreme competition for those with bladders of steel. After a two-hour ride we pulled into some small community and are told “5 minutes.” Those standing get off. Those seated try to move by persuading frozen joints that it will be more painful to stay seated than to begin moving. I leave my coat on the bus much to the horror of some who are sure that I will die of the draft if I do not wrap up before I exit the bus. I get off intent on finding the toilet only to step off the last step and hear “Back to the bus! Leaving in 5 minutes.” I look and the throng that had been feverously sucking the last draft of a cigarette was now moving toward the bus door and I was in their path. I turned to retreat back to seat 34 carefully stepping over all kinds of bags and packages that strewn the aisle (forget the fire marshal’s code but guard at all costs the presence of a draft). Another 1.5 hour down the highway and another stop and another announcement “5 minutes.” This time I was more motivated to locate the toilets. I stepped out into the fresh air and started looking for any sign of pointing the way to the “Tyalet” (toilet) or “WC” (water closet) but I could find none. I walked around the station house thinking they may be in the back but nothing was there. As I walked around the building it was once again announced to board the bus, “5 minutes.” The next stop was two hours further. When the bus pulled in and stopped (“5 minutes!”) I was on a singular mission and spotted the signs and headed toward them. Both men’s and women’s were located down a narrow stairway into a dimly lit basement (there are times when sanitary concerns capitulate to urgency and now was one of those times!). As I hurriedly walked I spotted the men’s section and went there only hearing a woman’s loud voice shouting out to someone. As I was leaving I was in a better condition to notice the surroundings and then I realized that loud shouting had been directed toward me because I had not stopped to pay the 75 kopecks charged to enter the toilet. I boarded the bus in a much relieved condition and settled back into my seat eclipsed by those standing in the aisle. In another hour we arrived at the big bus station in Dnepropetrovsk where we began the challenge of locating and purchasing tickets that would get us to Krivy Rog. Thankfully the tickets were bought without much trouble and we headed upstairs to the upper terminals were our trolley-van was to leave in 5 minutes. Once inside the van I immediately felt the heat and smelled the stale, stuffy air—all windows were closed. We arrived in Krivy Rog after a three hour ride and Ivan was waiting to meet us and take us to the hotel.

Luba’s immersion in Krivy Rog…

After checking in we had several meetings and ate supper and then to bed for an early morning and a full day. When Ivan met me he told me that there was a a lady that wanted to be immersed. Her name was Luba. Luba’s husband is Peter. Peter has been a member of the church in Krivy Rog but Luba was not. Ivan explained that Luba came from a strong Orthodox background and it was a very difficult decision for her. Ivan has been studying with Luba for a long time and giving her time to look at what is presented by God’s Truth (the Bible) and compare that with what she had been practicing. Luba had studied and wrestled with the Truth and had decided to obey the Bible and cease allowing man’s traditions to dictate her every religious belief and action. Ivan told me that he was in the process of trying to find a swimming pool for the immersion and he would call back to tell me all details they had been arranged. Finding a pool was more difficult than Ivan had thought and it was not until the next morning that he was able to locate a sauna that had been repaired that had a pool large enough for an immersion. We scheduled 12:00 as the time to be at the sauna and then made some visits to hospitals where distribution of our items was made last fall. At noon we met Peter and Luba. Ivan said that Luba wanted me to do the immersing. I told Ivan that I had not brought any extra clothes (since I was only over-nighting and away just a few days there was no need to bring along a suitcase, especially since I was going to be traveling on the bus line). I really did not want to spend the next twenty-four hours in wet and damp clothes so I asked if there were any used clothing stores where I could purchase some clothes. We found such a store but they were on lunch break. Ivan told them there was an American that wanted to buy some clothes so they allowed us to go in the back door. The owner of this place was a big, loud, curt talking woman with a close cropped hair and a very intimidating presence (I think she must have been the enforcer from some women’s prison in a previous job). As we walked into the store this woman looked each of us over as if we were being inspected. For some reason she decided that out of the crowd I was the American in need of clothes. She gruffly said, “I have no used clothes that will fit him.” She then goes to a rack of new jeans and pulls off a pair and holds it up to my waist and announces, “This will fit him!” The problem was that the pair of jeans had a waist that would have fit at least TWO of me. The next selection was a pullover shirt. All I needed was some kind of t-shirt that I would wear for a few minutes. From a rack came all sorts of name brand pullover shirts. The term futility utterly fails to describe the hopelessness of my trying to tell this woman that I could care less what name was on some article of clothing. Finally I selected a shirt just to be done with the process. I paid and then we left for the sauna.

The sauna was nice and was still undergoing repairs. We were shown the pool and it looked nice. I was told that in the bottom repairs were still being made and as I looked down into the pool I saw a metal plate (about 18 inches round) that covered the drain. I was told that the concrete around the plate had not yet been poured and there was about a one meter drop all around the plate and that I should stay on the plate or be prepared for dropping under the water. Oh, I was also told that they had just filled the pool and the water had not had time to heat up but it should not be too cold. I looked into the pool once again and saw the water was strongly circulating and commented about that and was told they had decided to repair it with a stronger pump this time and while they could not find a pump that was capable of pumping the right pressure they had decided that a pump that pumped with a stronger pressure would be even better. I told them that it looked like the pump was working as the pool’s circulation was almost like a whirlpool. So we got dressed. I put on the jeans that were announced to “fit” me only to find out that they were capable of not only covering me but several more at the same time. I had intended to save my belt from getting wet and just wear the jeans without a belt but that was not an option at this point. I finished getting ready and then Luba came out as well and we went to the sauna. I dipped my hand into the water expecting to feel at least a lukewarm feeling but it was freezing and had the water not been moving I am convinced that ice would be forming on the top. I looked at Ivan and said, “This is very cold.” Ivan smiled his big smile and said, “It OK brother John.” I looked at Luba and told her it was very cold. From immersing Dimitry in a similar freezing sauna I knew that once we got into the water we would do well to move and even talking would be difficult so I paused at the top of the ladder and explained to Luba that when we got into the sauna I would asked for her confession of faith in the Lord and would then quickly immerse her and get out. She understood and I stepped on the ladder and put my foot on the first rung under the water—it was colder than I expected. Inching my way down the ladder into the pool was torture. I finally got to the bottom and the water was just below my shoulders.  I tried to stay as still as possible so my body heat would at least form a fringe of heat in the water surrounding my body but the circulating water made this useless. I started to step back so that Luba could climb down the ladder and one foot went into the crevice about which I’d been warned. I quickly realized I was about to go underwater but thankfully was able to maintain my balance and gingerly felt my way past the gaping section on the floor and positioned myself on the metal circle covering the drain. It was then that I realized the power of the pump circulating the water. I could barely stand still and the fact that I was to stay roosted on that small circle was more than difficult. At this time Luba began her descent into the freezing water. I forgot to tell you that Luba is a woman of small statute. She would be just over four feet tall. I never thought of this until she reached the bottom rung and was going to let go and stand on the bottom as I did. When she let go she realized standing on the bottom was not an option for one as height-challenged as she and as soon as she let go of the ladder she quickly grabbed it again and hung on as the whirling water began to take hold of her body. I tried to help her but remember I was perched on the 18 inch disc and doing all I could to maintain my balance as the powerful pump circulated the freezing water and fearful that at any moment one of my feet would slip taking me down into the unfinished footing surrounding the drain. Tanya was interpreting and so whatever I said took twice as long to say. I told Luba that we would take the confession and then she was to let go of the ladder and I would immerse her. I assure you that it was not a time for long-winded statements. After I said what I thought needed to be briefly said I told Luba “OK.” She not only let go but let go with a push in my direction. The momentum of her push, the swirling of the water, the confines of the 18 inch plate on which I stood, the one meter drop surrounding the drain lid, and the freezing temp of the water all combined in knocking me off my post and being push by the pumps to the far wall of the pool but I was able to reach Luba and immersed her for the remission of her sins!

After we reached the safety of the ladder and climbed out of the pool we were able to greet Luba as our new sister in the Lord. Then it was time to try to find something to dry off and change back into the dry clothes. (A video of this immersion is on the kachelman.com website.)

On the road (never to be travelled) again…

Our appointments during the day had all run over and the busses back to Donetsk were all gone except or one that would not get us back until after midnight. So again we were given options and chose to jump from one bus to another as we got to various bus stations along the way. It was not a direct route but we were told that it would be quicker. I really wanted to get back because the next day was May Day and everything would be shut down plus I did not need to incur any extra expenses because of the delay. So we began…The first leg of the trip was back to the large bus station in Dnepropetrovsk. With the holidays the busses were all crowded. It seemed that everyone was riding a bus going somewhere. The heat, constant weaving/swaying motion, stuffiness, and stale air was now punctuated by the smell of alcohol as the holiday had begun and so had the drinking. The bus ride the previous day had strained every muscle in my upper back and neck and now those irritated nerves were angrily reawakened and seemed intent on reminding me of their discomfort. Added to the muscular strain, cricks, and pains was the fact that the seats on this trolley-van were tilted so they were higher in the back than the front and if you did not keep your legs and arms braced you would become unseated.

We arrived at the Dnepropetrovsk bus station and started going to ticket counters to get tickets to Donetsk. With our late arrival and the holiday travel there were no tickets to Donetsk! I looked around and the prospect of spending the night in the bus station was not even a remote option to be considered. Tanya looked at me and said, “Come on we will purchase a ticket up here to anywhere.” “Exactly where is ‘anywhere’ we are purchasing tickets to? Is it in the direction we are going to return to Donetsk? Are we going closer to Donetsk?” “Yes.” “Yes to which question?” “Yes we will be closer to Donetsk.” “How much closer will we be?” “It gets us just closer. Let’s go.” So we went. So we stood in three lines at the same time. So we bought tickets to a place called “Pavlograd.” “Where exactly is Pavlograd?” “It is down that road.” The trolley-van was departing in five minutes (I thus discovered that everything connected with busses in Ukraine is on a five minute schedule). After two hours the trolley-van slowly pulls into the bus station of Pavlograd. Darkness was falling and we had the chore ahead of us of locating ticket counters, standing in lines, and trying to locate a bus, any bus, that was going anywhere close to Donetsk. At this point every joint in my body was calling for an immediate termination of all actions, I had a headache because of the stale air I have been breathing, I was beginning to wonder if I was going in and out of consciousness because all I could remember were torturous seats on trolley-vans and smells of indescribable odors and there was no prospect that any improvement was in my immediate future. I spotted several taxis and told Tanya to get us a taxi to take us to Donetsk. “But I don’t know how far it is from here? It might cost a lot.” “I do not care. All I want is to get back to Donetsk.” We talked to a driver who said Donetsk was 3.5 hours away. He gave us a price and I told Tanya take it and get me out of here. We arrived back in Donetsk soon after 11:30 p.m. and I finally crawled into bed about an hour later.

Overall the trip was a great success! We were able to see a new sister on into the Lord. We toured several medical facilities that had received items from our shipments and were so thankful for what they had received (the next reports will detail these visits). We helped to encourage those who are working for the Lord and standing for His Truths.

On the return trip Tanya and I were discussing the schedule for the next few days. I am scheduled to be in Kramatorsk and Konstantinovka beginning Saturday and going through the first part of the week. Konstantinovka has just cleared a container that was shipped by the Columbus, MS brethren and they will begin distribution when I arrive. They have asked Vlad and the brethren from Kramatorsk to come and get a truckload of items to distribute. Brethren from Krasnoarmeisk (Sasha and Julia) will also bring a truck and get some clothes for the congregation to distribute in the community as well. It will be exciting to be involved in that action.

Oh…Tanya informs me that due to the increases in transportation costs we will be riding the bus to Kramatorsk…