Friday, March 11, 2011

Somewhere in between

After almost a year of trudging through a sometimes exhausting bog of redtape, I am happy to announce that I am finally an official resident of Ukraine. It has been a long time coming. The modest white card and black and white photo represents more than just a year of beuacracy, expensive trips to Poland, and seemingly endless stacks of forms and blanks to sign. After all, in my almost 11 years of missionary work, I've managed to aquire a Russian husband and two Ukrainian born babies . So when I recieved my little residency card on Wednesday, and glanced at the somber thirtysomething women starting back at me, it seemed fitting and right. I suppose since September , I've been looking for a way to solidify my decade of expatriotism. Becoming a  resident of Ukraine  really defines who I am. Yes, my royal blue passport is still proudly adorned with a gold embossed eagle. My citizenship, accent and mentality and craving for Dr. Pepper will always be American. And yet, I can't imagine life without borshct, March 8th, and the removal of shoes upon entering a house.  Whether I like it or not, I will never again be truly American, and no matter how hard I try will never actually be Ukrainian. I'm somewhere in between.

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