Students tend to see the universe through a lens of idealism.  When we left California for Ukraine, we were four dental students and three hygiene students bent on radically changing the world.  Full of excitement, we each packed every personal item that could be crammed into our carry-on bags, using the large, check-in luggage for hauling gloves, masks, instruments, and supplies.  We also hauled four air compressors for our dental drills and several folding chairs tricked out with vacuums and air hoses for the patients.  Pushing the 70 lb limit for each box, we stuffed the extra spaces with necessities like toilet paper.  The remaining boxes were tamped down with Beanie Babies to give away to the kids we were going to meet at the orphanages.  A team of 14 people assembled at LAX, each with a carry-on and two 70 lb boxes, all labeled, itemized, and numbered. We were led by the amazing duo Dr. Richard Nelson and his wife Vicki.  We were ready for action!... well at least we would be after the 16 hour plane ride. 

With a mission to rid the whole Ukrainian countryside of dental decay, we marched into Ukrainian Customs like Napoleon into Russia.  But Napoleon was stopped from advancing further into the country by an ice storm.  We also were stopped cold (so to speak) by the icy reception at the gates.  A very handsome, but serious man in a serious uniform was leafing through my documents and passport with a mix of suspicion and disdain.  He certainly would not be persuaded to smile back at me though I glowed with the enthusiasm of a visionary.  Looking very severe, he did his best to scowl me into proper conduct.  Squashing my un-behaving smile into a contorted line of sobriety, I tried very hard to show respect to the fellow in the big hat.  Seeming content that he had done his job, he stamped my passport and dismissed me without another look.

Thinking that I had overcome the worst of the left-over Soviet governmental red-tape, I imagined this trip was going to be a piece of cake.  It looked as if their goal was to thoroughly scare us at the entrance gates, so we would behave ourselves for the rest of the trip.  That unconquerable smile was back into place, I had won the right to enter the country.  I had no idea what was coming next.

An intimidating group of impeccably uniformed, unsmiling higher-ups, who looked like they stepped out of the History Channel, asked to see the leader of our group.  Richard seemed to get pushed to the front of the crowd like a silent sacrifice.  They asked to know what was in these large boxes we were bringing into their country.  He explained we were a dental team with humanitarian aid visas, planning on treating children in orphanages.  Their faces remained unchanged, unmoved, and furthermore, unconvinced.  Dr. Nelson tried to elaborate on this by describing all the dental equipment we were bringing with us.  

“Show us this dental equipment.”  

Remember, we had every box inventoried, numbered, and organized.  It was foolproof.  Or so we thought.  A third of the boxes had been lost in route.  The inventory lists were mixed up.  Nothing looked the same as when we had packed them 48 hours before.  So hoping for the best, Richard opened the box that lay at his feet.  Beanie Babies.  Lots of Beanie Babies.  With a weak smile, he told them "We give toys to the children we treat."  So they invited him to open another.  More Beanie Babies.

We watched as the neo-KGB marched our kind-hearted doctor into the concrete catacombs of the Borispyl Airport.  

Tags: Ukraine