So, hey, my Wednesday is almost over — Wednesday? Thursday? No, I’m pretty sure it’s still Wednesday — and I haven’t told you about Tuesday yet. Fortunately there’s not much to tell. Although I had thought it would be my first day to sleep in — you know, as If I were actually on a vacation — since last week, I actually had to set the alarm for 7:30. The reason for this ridiculous hour was the need for us to track down the Ukrainian Ministry of Justice. It’s just so easy to misplace that thing!

We (or more specifically, Viktoria) needed to know where to go to get documents apostilled. This wedding/marriage thing is just the warm up; the real fun is yet to come. In fact, all the Monday stuff is next to nothing compared to the next piece of the puzzle: immigration. That requires documents from Ukraine that are acceptable to the US government. The only way to show our government that I’m not just giving them papers in a made up language, is to get an official notarization/authentication stamp known as an apostille. It’s a UN sort of thing that let’s signatory governments trust each other, kinda. For Ukraine, these apostilles are done by — see if you’re following me here — the Ministry of Justice.

It’s a good thing we checked on where the appropriate office was, because we had to go to a couple places to find it. The main office was easy enough to find; it was only a few blocks from the apartment, and we’d even been by it on Sunday night. (On the way we passed by the protest location, and sure enough, there were some people still/already were there.). The information people at the Ministry (or maybe just the people whose office we wandered into) told us that document services were done at another location, somewhere on the other side of the river. So we took a subway ride, walked around in some pretty obnoxious weather and finally did track down the place to go. At least, kind of; we actually found out today that some of the documents needed would need a regional notarization before they could get the apostille In Kiev. My oh my, but the fun never ends.

But we were young and naive and didn’t know any of that on Tuesday morning. After the morning excursion, we got out check-out time pushed back by an hour, which worked out really well. We headed over to the train station, dropped my ridiculously large bag in baggage storage for a couple hours, and met with my friend Vladimir, aka Vova. I’ve spoken about him and we had met during my last Kiev trip. I would have hated to come all the way not have a chance to see him again. Fortunately, although he was having a busy couple of days, he had a break between a couple corporate meetings and he was able to catch the subway over and spend a bit of time with us. He had to go just about the time we needed to collect my bag and head to the train, so you really couldn’t have asked for a better afternoon.

Now, imagine if you will, one of those sweltering summer nights that we have all had once or twice before. It’s hot, and the air isn’t moving, making everything seem stale. It almost feels like time has slowed down. You’re hot and the sweat on your skin is almost sticky to the touch. You want to sleep, but you just can’t get comfortable, and you begin to wish there was some way you could float just so you could rid of the sticky feeling you have just from laying on the bed.

Put that on a train racing through the dark and freezing Ukrainian countryside and you’ll have a notion of what my train ride was like.

Viktoria tells me that this was not a typical experience, but since it was my first, it will probably stick with me for a while. It was really nothing of what I had hoped for, other than being on a Ukrainian train. I would really have preferred to be in one of the sleeping cabins, which are for two people, each having a bed/berth on either side of the cabin. When Viktoria got out tickets, though, none of these were available. So we went for the next class down, and got “Coupe” tickets. The coupe cabins are for four people, and there are “bunk-berths” on either side of the cabin. There were some online comments that sounded like this could be an OK option — meet a couple new people and pass the time in conversation — but that too was a bit of a rosy view. First, because of a mix-up or misunderstanding somewhere in the process, Viktoria and I didn’t get the two lower bunks; we had one upper and one lower, and they weren’t on the same side of the cabin. Then we didn’t get get interesting or engaging cabin mates at all. One was a rather sullen woman who just wanted to read and who snored something awful when it was lights out. The other was a guy who spent most of the evening with his buddy in the corridor. He didn’t seem like a bad sort, but because he was getting off the train a couple stations before us, the whole cabin was essentially awakened at 5:30 am.

Not that we were getting much sleep anyway. The cabin door was broken and didn’t close all the way, but when it was mostly closed, the cabin got warm and stifling. Most of the time it was kept half open, and that seemed to help; about half the time it was downright pleasant. The downside was that we got light from the corridor all night, and smoke from the smokers in the baggage area would often come wafting into the cabin. We just couldn’t win. Viktoria had taken the corresponding train to Kiev and tells me that the temperatures were perfect and there was no smoke smell at all.

That rather sleepless night launched up into a somewhat busy day. We got settled into the apartment in Mariupol with no problem. I will add a link with some photos so you can see the listing for the place (should you wish to rent it when you come to Mariupol). Then it was off to the registrar’s office to make sure things were still on track for Friday. That spawned a couple follow up tasks, not all of which were wholly unexpected. We dropped off my “free to get hitched” document and a couple other items to get certified translations into Ukrainian. I knew this was needed, but Viktoria was taken a little off guard when she learned she had to provide similar documentation to the registrar’s office as well. She didn’t have to get it translated, but she did need to get it to them today since the office isn’t open tomorrow. As I’ve been typing this, she’s been darting around town (or as darting as the city buses actually allow) gathering the items needed and getting them to the office. I’ll know shortly how successful she’s been.

So a busy day on top of a sleepless night following a nice but cold day. I would hope I can sleep in tomorrow, but since I have to meet with the translator at 10, I’m thinking that’s not going to happen.

Tomorrow is also Thanksgiving day. There isn’t much to show it around here, of course, but it am very aware of it nonetheless. It’s my first such holiday off American soil, and it will be my first Thanksgiving with my new family. We won’t be having turkey, but I think it will still be a pretty special day.

UPDATE:  Here’s the link I had mentioned above:  http://www.dobovo.com/mariupol-apartments/119-stroiteley-22745.html.  It really was a very nice apartment, all things considered.