Chernobyl Children's Project International

finally home, the lads settle in: a hopeful example for disabled in Chernobyl regions

This photograph shows 10 young men who grew up in the Vesnova Mental Asylum in Belarus, in the living room of their new home.  This time last year, the boys were about to be transfered to a dismal and crowded adult mental institution where they would spend the rest of their lives, segregated from society. Today, they are learning to live independently in a terrace of five accessible apartments.  This is the first project of its kind in Belarus, and we hope it will serve as "proof of concept"  that children with a variety of mental and physical abilities can, with support and training, live independently.

The young men are (from left to right, Sasha, Sasha, Misha, Sasha, Vanya, Oleg, Grisha, Sasha, Kolya, and Vasia.) CCPI founder Adi Roche joins them.

The apartments were built, decorated, and furnished by volunteers of Chernobyl Children's Project International, and financed by donors and Irish volunteers.  Children of Chernobyl of Christ Church in Alexandria, Virginia raised funds to support 24 hour caregivers (who will stay in an attached flat)   Belarusian children enjoying summer holidays in the US participated in raising the funds.

Click here to learn more and to see a video of one of the young men, Sasha Levkin, at the opening ceremony for the homes this past October. (You can see more videos of the children of Vesnova on the CCPI Channel on YouTube.)

Sasha understands that he and the other young men are in a true sense "pioneers" for the disabled in his country.  As I watched him thank the gathered volunteers and supporters in October, I kept thinking back to when I first met them as young boys in October 2003, the conditions they were living in, and how things have changed. The photos show the kids as we found them --  sitting on rotting, urine soaked mattresses, covered in flies, and endlessly rocking, moaning and picking at themselves.  In the years since (and with your financial support), CCPI volunteers have physically transformed the institution to meet and exceed standards of of safety, hygiene and dignity.  At the same time, CCPI developed a standard of medical and therapeutic care, sending teams of volunteers to care for children and train their peers, and hiring and training caregivers.  Vesnova is a transformed place, but our goal is to put each child who lives there today on the path to independent living or life in a family home. 

video: sasha opens door to a new life, new hope for disabled in his country

In too many places across  the world, mentally and physically disabled people are segregated from society for the rest of their lives in dismal institutions. (And not so long ago, this was true in the United States as well.)

On October 23 I witnessed history as Sasha Levkin, a 19 year old resident of the Vesnova Children's Asylum, along with seven other disabled young adults, moved into homes of their own. The terrace of accessible apartments was built (and furnished and decorated) by volunteers of Chernobyl Children's Project International and is the first project of its kind in Belarus.

Sasha:  "I won't let you down."
The video shows Sasha, who has cerebral palsy, addressing remarks to the volunteers and donors who helped him fulfill his dream of a home of his own.  A few weeks ago, a "mental institution" was the only home he'd ever known or ever would know. Today, he is learning to live independently and looks forward to a career as a translator and writer. (If you don't see a video above view click here to go to the CCPI website.)

 I had a long chat with Sasha (shown left in the group photo), who taught himself simple English using language CDs given him by volunteers. He's writing a book now (by painstaking dictation); memoirs of his early life in a violent, alcoholic home and subsequent institutionalization at Vesnova after his mother beat him until he could no longer function independently.  He yearns for a way to "repay" those who have shown him kindness and does not seem to fully appreciate that his life story is a gift of inspiration to all who know him.  He is persistent in his desire to support himself financially, and believes that he will soon be able to contribute to the work of CCPI as a translator.

Sasha understands that he and the other young men are in a real sense "pioneers" for the disabled in his country.  He realizes that all eyes are on him and his success could open doors for other disabled  people in Belarus. He recognizes, and we all do, that the most difficult challenges are ahead as he learns to care for  himself and prepare for his future.  CCPI and its volunteers will be with him all the way.

video: "return to chernobyl" -- a volunteer's story of survival, service, and learning

In the summer of 2003, architect, broadcaster, and Chernobyl Children's Project International volunteer Duncan Stewart was in Belarus to design two buildings for Chernobyl affected communities,  and to film a documentary.  He suffered a near fatal accident.

Two years later, in recovery from massive injuries, he returned to see the completed work, reconstruct his broken memory, and learn more about the impact of Chernobyl on children and families in Belarus.  This video tells the shocking story of Duncan's accident and rescue, his emotional reunion with the Belarusian doctors who saved him, and the CCPI mission that brought him to Belarus in the first place.

If you are viewing this post on email or a feed, you may need to click to the Chernobyl Children's Project International website to view the film.  This nine minute clip is part one of six parts.   We'll post the others periodically, or you can watch them now on the CCPI Chernobyl Channel on YouTube.

Shortly after his accident and in honor of the Belarusian medical professionals who saved his life, Duncan and his wife Agneta hosted a "Chernobyl Heart Ball" in Ireland that raised significant funds in support of our children's cardiac surgery program in Minsk.

Return to Chernobyl is a survival story and an emotional personal journey. And it's a great way to learn about the Chernobyl accident, the zeal of CCPI volunteers, and CCPI projects in Belarus that are making a difference in the lives of children and families who are rebuilding their lives in the aftermath of Chernobyl.

video: watch ccpi volunteers in action in chernobyl affected regions

This 10-minute video was filmed in the fall by Ireland's RTE television, and shows Chernobyl Children's Project International volunteers in action in the Mogilev region of Belarus.

One of the children prominently featured in the piece -- Victor, the little boy with the cleft palate and tracheotomy tube -- died shortly after the filming. (Here is a photo I took of his grave last month).  His loss was a terrible reminder that children belong in families, not in institutions.

Along those lines, the film also introduces Ina Gudkovskie, who lived in an orphanage before joining a real family in one of CCPI's "homes of hope."  You can click here to learn more about the  Gudkovskie family, and watch the video to hear Ina (who speaks English) talk about how having a mother and father has changed her life.  Click the links to read the about the Zhila and Savin families -- happy homes made up of children who had suffered lives of neglect and abuse.  If you want to learn more about sponsoring a family home for children who have been living in orphanages, please email me.

Finally, the film updates the story of Vesnova asylum resident Sasha Levkin, who along with his friend Sasha appeared in the film Chernobyl Heart.  (Both boys are pictured here -- Sasha Levkin is seen holding a photo of Chernobyl's Hero, a Karakorum race horse
whose winnings are donated to CCPI.) Both boys have reached the age when they would typically be transfered to an adult asylum, where they would be warehoused until death.  The boys have feared and dreaded this prospect  for the 7 years we have known them.  In the film, you will see CCPI founder Adi Roche promising Sasha (as he weeps with happiness) that CCPI volunteers will build them a home of their own.   As I write this, that promise is coming true -- a CCPI volunteer team is in Mogilev right now building a disability accessible home for the two Sashas, and for 8 other disabled young adults who will be able to live with dignity, rather than being transfered to an adult institution.

When I talked to the two Sashas last month, however, "dignity" was not the word rolling off their lips -- it was more like: "Party!"  (Don't worry, we've hired staff to assist the young people and provide supervision!)  They were brimming over with excitement and anticipation.  After all of the difficulties Sasha has been through, it is almost surreal to realize that when I next see him, he will be able to serve me tea in his very own home.

In previous updates we've shown how devastating life is for mentally or physically disabled children who live out their lives in orphanages.  And, without intervention, the grim future they face as institutionalized adults segregated from society forever. Thanks to your financial support, we've also been able to tell you happier stories -- stories of our foster families. These amazing families have joined children -- all of whom lived in orphanages and have histories of loss, abuse and neglect -- with parents eager to share their love and provide a secure and nurturing home.

This update is about our Community Care program. This program -- serving 18 children in Minsk, Belarus but set for expansion -- takes disabled children off the waiting lists for orphanages, and provides their families with the support they need to care for their children at home.

Visiting these families last month, I was struck by the unique determination of these parents -- often single mothers -- who care for their children at home in a region where institutionalization is the norm. Chernobyl Children's Project International provides therapeutic home visits, training and supplies for families, outings and other types of support, such as swimming pool visits, accessible home adaptations, and camping experiences for the children. But the passion to overcome obstacles and make it all work comes from the parents themselves.

Andrei, pictured at the top of this post, is an 11 year old with cerebral palsy and autism.  He's a happy and well cared for boy, and his mother is delighted with him -- but clearly exhausted by his activity level.  He is in constant, exhuberant, and barely controlled motion.  It was great to see their loving bond, but I couldn't help but think what a handful he will be as they both get older. They will need all the  support they can get.

Ignat, the calm and handsome boy pictured in my lap to the right , is 6 years old and like many of our children in the program has cerebral palsy.  He lives with his mother, who is single, and his grandmother in a tiny, one bedroom apartment.  A wheelchair lift on the stairs built by CCPI volunteers, and a wheelchair accessible van (paid for with your donations) make it possible for him to enjoy pool therapy visits and trips to McDonald's (a popular treat for the kids and their parents!)

The little girl pictured in the pink jacket is 6 year old Nadya. She has cerebral palsy and suffers frequent seizures.  In the photo she is held by CCPI board member Michael Rodin -- but I enlarged the photo to focus on her lovely face and eyes.  Her eyes are the only responsive part of her, until we turn on her music box and her mouth explodes into a smile. Their apartment had no furniture or comforts and Tanya, Nadya's mother, seemed  to be extraordinarily stressed, on "on the edge."  She told us she was not sure how long she would be able to continue caring for Nadya at home.  This is clearly a family we need to observe and support carefully in the coming months.

Thirteen year old Marguerita is pictured with medical care program coordinator Valentin Chernyakevich, who manages the staff of Belarusian therapists who make home visits to our children.  An inoperable tumor on her spine has taken away her ability to walk. But she uses a wheelchair provided by your donations, and a ramp built by CCPI building program volunteers allows her to get out with her mother and participate in fun activities organized by Valentin and his staff. Last summer, she attended one of our camps for disabled children, and she loves her regular trips to the swimming pool.  She told us she would like to have a chance to ride a horse. Marguerita speaks a bit of English -- it's her favorite subject when a teacher comes in to visit her, and she loves to get letters written in English. She is proud of her mother's singing voice, and urged her to sing Belarusian folks songs to us. She is a very happy and optimistic girl.

Eighteen children, and families who critically need professional and social support in order to care for them at home.  All of them would be in institutions without this program.  Cared for by strangers, they would be extremely vulnerable. Please consider making a donation to help us continue this program, and expand it to help more disabled children avoid the horror of institutionalization and stay with their families where they belong.

Two weeks ago, we visited the Zhila family in the Ossipovichi, Mogliev region of Belarus.  The Zhilas are a part of Chernobyl Children's Project International's foster families program -- we take children out of orphanages and place them in carefully selected, real family homes.

You can read the stories of the Savin and Gudkovskie families -- remarkable families with amazing stories of survival.

We spent the previous night at an orphanage.  As our van navigated the country roads toward Ossipovichi, I knew that seeing children in a loving family would be a jarring and welcome contrast. But I was haunted by the knowledge that these 10 children -- ages 5 to 16 -- have shocking stories of loss and neglect. 

As we arrived, Petr (the father), was putting finishing touches on a new porch. He had been busy since our last visit, building bookshelves and desks for the children, and expanding the family areas of the home.  His wife Galina made tea and told us how the children are adapting to family life.  (Go to our website to see video of sisters singing a song to us.)

The children pulled our hands and excitedly took us from one room to the next. They giggled as they showed off their bedrooms, their new desks, their school projects and personal treasures.  Looking at their happy faces I remembered terrible stories from their recent pasts.  About how the birth mother of Tanya (11),  Sasha (10) , and Kirill (5) spent food money on alcohol and left the children to starve. They found bits of potato peel to fry on the fire. How their father beat them with a stick after they ran away, and how they watched as he broke their mother’s legs.  How they rescued her when she tried to commit suicide by hanging, and by cutting her wrists.

When Andrea (11)  and Roxana (7) lost their mother in an accident, their father medicated his grief with alcohol.  He tried to quit but couldn't, and they moved to their beloved grandmother's home. A house fire killed their grandmother, and left Roxana with burns over 30% of her body.  Scars from her burns peeked out from the neck of her blouse as she and the other children performed songs for us and played with each other.

In the parlour I spotted a small shrine to their dead 5 year old son, and I realized that Galina and Petr knew something themselves about loss and moving on. 

No doubt many challenges are ahead for this newly formed family.  And yet, today, it seems natural for them to be together.  The children behave as if they’ve been together forever. And Galina and Petr are grateful for their large family, and determined to surround their children with love and prepare them for a hopeful future.

The Zhila home was sponsored by the Cork Outreach Group of Chernobyl Children’s Project International.  If you, your business, or community group would like to learn about sponsoring a “home of hope, email me.

CCPI supporters Derek Casari and Perry Norton recently surprised us with the gift of radio public service announcements (PSAs). Click on the player below to listen to one, and then read on for the story of how two strangers merged their talents to help children affected by Chernobyl. (If you're reading this post on email you may need to click here to see the audio player.)

 

Perry (pictured left) is the woman behind PanRight Productions, a one stop studio that creates audio for commercials, games, audio books, podcasts, and PSAs. Her mission is to "be a champion for artists and non profits for whom being heard is the most important task." In the spirit of last month's holidays, Perry offered her clients a special gift -- a free radio PSA for the favorite charity of the first 5 clients to respond.

Derek was first in line, requesting a PSA to benefit Chernobyl Children's Project International.   Derek is a systems engineer for 20th Century Fox post production in LA. Several years ago, Derek's six year old son Aaron died of a rare form of liver cancer. (With Derek's permission, here's a picture of Aaron and his grandfather at right.)  Derek told me that two years of grueling chemo regimens and sleepless nights spent at Children's Hospital of LA -- and the ultimate loss of Aaron, who so desired to grow up -- destroyed his marriage, his finances, and almost his  mind.  His search to find meaning in his son's death led Derek to volunteer for sustainable business incubator Green2Gold. And he found a special attraction to CCPI programs that help seriously ill children, and an admiration for CCPI founder Adi Roche.

Derek and Perry worked together to develop the public service announcement above, and presented it as a gift. This story is a reminder that doing good is not always about donating cash. It can be about thinking creatively, mining your talents, and combining your talents with other's. CCPI could never have afforded to pay for the creation of these PSAs on our own.  And now you can help us get them out to be heard.

The PSA comes in 15 and 30 second versions, and a one minute version.  Westwood One and Beasley Broadcast Group have already agreed to run them.  Here's how you can help:

Blogger? Post our PSAs -- email me and I'll send them to you.

Radio station or media company contacts?   Ask them to run the PSAs.

None of the above?  Click on "email this link" at the bottom of this post and spread the word.  As Perry says -- "being heard is the most important task."  And the children affected by Chernobyl are well overdue to be heard.  This post is in memory of Aaron Casari.

In March 2006 Unicef organized a photography workshop for children who live in Chernobyl affected communities in Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia.  Each of the kids, aged 12 to 17, was born after the Chernobyl disaster of 1986.  Each was asked to go back to their home country and take photographs to capture their personal experience of Chernobyl.  I first saw the photos in Minsk in 2006. 

Here is Unicef's online photo essay, Chernobyl Seen by Children.

Last month the photos were exhibited again at the United Nations in New York city.  The UN General Assembly convened a meeting called "A World Fit for Children +5."  At this meeting, world leaders reviewed progress against international initiatives to improve the health and well being of children.  It was a fitting venue to revisit how the Chernobyl disaster has affected a new generation.

In November, I posted my observation that many of the most popular "genre" of Chernobyl photographs are taken by outsiders, and thus have a voyeuristic quality.  I find these photos refreshing in contrast because they reflect each child's personal and ordinary experience. As the exhibition materials point out, "for these children Chernobyl is not statistics, it is daily life."  For more on how children artistically address Chernobyl, click here to see the Chernobyl Child Artists photo gallery on this blog.

It would be an affront to minimize how Chernobyl affects children and families today.  At the same time, these photographs underscore how important it is for organizations such as CCPI to help families focus on the future.  Realistically, but with hope.  As do these young photographers.

The photo of the baby (who has cancer) admiring the camera was taken by Anton Gordeichik of Belarus.  Vitaliy Sigaev, age 13, of the Russian Federation took picture of the boy his age in the hospital.  Both pictures are from the Unicef exhibit "Chernobyl Seen by Children."

I can't look at this picture without imagining how I might feel to see my own child in an intensive care unit, hooked up to tubes and wires and hissing electronic equipment.  Only days ago, this child's parents were in the situation all parents dread:  Not knowing if their child would live or die.  Today she lives, thanks to a partnership between American and Belarusian surgeons and a life saving gift.

In October, I wrote about the Portland grandmother and the unusual way she raised funds to help kids needing heart surgery in Belarus. We combined her donation with one from a Rotary Club to purchase a Somanetics Cardiac Oximeter.  The oximeter just arrived in Belarus with a volunteer surgical team.  (The device allows surgeons to non invasively monitor oxygen levels in a young patient's brain and kidneys while they are on bypass during surgery. If the heart fails, the surgical team can intervene before irreparable damage is done.)

This equipment will save the lives of as many as 175 children a year.  We thought you might like to see this photo of the first one.  Pictured here,  Dmitry Leskovsky MD  (of the  National  Children's Cardiac Center in Minsk) and William Novick MD performed what is called a "Stage 1 Norwood" on the child.  The operation is one of the more complex performed in the USA or Europe.

As I reported last week, our cardiac surgery program has saved the lives of close to 300 children in Belarus, and has provided training and equipment that reduced the waiting list for children's heart surgeries from 7000 to 2400 under 5 years.  This spring, we will bring the program to Ukraine, where 50% of children who need complicated heart surgeries do not get it.

But today, we are celebrating the life of this one child.

This photo is from a series by Don Weber.  It's called Bastard Eden: Chernobyl at Twenty.  His book of photos is due out this spring.

I love these photos, and as I look at them I wonder -- why?  I think because they lack any kind of voyeurism. Instead of being invited to stare, we are invited to understand.  Each subject is their own hero.  They've experienced Chernobyl, and they're getting on with it anyway.

Bill Crandall's photo  of a young Belarusian girl in dance class is another of this uplifting, humanistic type.  Look at her face -- is she thinking about Chernobyl?

It's easy to find a lot of "Chernobyl genre" photos on the Internet.  The blogosphere loves the spooky "ghost town" sort epitomized by Elena Filatova and her motorcycle tour of Pripyat. Another type of photos accentuates  terrible human suffering. Paul Fusco's sensitive work is, in my opinion, the best of this type.  His photo essay brings a tear to my eye no matter how often I watch it.

I've been to these places and met the people featured in these photos, and I can attest with my hand on my heart that it is all true and not exaggerated -- and yet it is only a part of the truth. The most amazing and under reported truth of Chernobyl is that the people who live here really love life.  They enjoy life. They can be fun to be around. They want to move on with their lives. And they do.  If we wish to help them, the best thing we can do is give them that extra bit of support that will keep them moving forward and working towards a better time for themselves and their kids.  (And isn't this the same thing we want in the USA, when disaster punches us?)

We need a new mental image of people living with Chernobyl. I can't approach the artistry of Don and Bill, but I can snap off a family photo, and I have images of my own of Chernobyl people enjoying their lives. Sasha, shown here in his wheelchair, loves to party and flirt with girls.  I've heard he likes the odd beer and is looking forward to the flat we want to build him this spring so that he won't have to move to an adult asylum. Pavel, who lives in an orphanage in Kletsk, is an artist who would not accept my money for his painting.  And you should check out this story about Sasha Levkin -- a boy with cerebral palsy who loves to travel and will not be held back.

I'm in this photo with Misha. He started his life in an asylum for mentally ill kids -- probably misunderstood because of his cleft palate and what I like to call his "accent."  Most kids never make it out of a place like that.  A few years ago, Misha got an operation from American doctors in Minsk. Unfortunately, Misha didn't understand that he wasn't allowed to eat any solids for a week after the operation.  After a few days of being hungry, he ate an apple and split his lip back open. It's a tough break, but it hasn't slowed him down too much. In spite of everything, he is making a modest living as a cobbler, and supporting himself and the woman who adopted him as a teen.  He sees himself as a pretty handsome guy (and as  a result, so do I).  He is big fan of Jean Claude Van Damme movies.  He is not shy and he makes a few bucks re-selling gifts given to him by Chernobyl Children's Project International volunteers.  He never hesitates to ask for more or to pretend that he doesn't remember the previous (re-sold) gifts. He is such a smooth talker, that I question my own memory. 

I have scores of stories like this -- hope and persistence are the untold legacy of Chernobyl and I wish it were more widely recognized.

In April 2006, Chernobyl Children's Project International was invited by the United States Congress and the Helsinki Commission to testify about the ongoing effects of Chernobyl.  At both of these hearings, United Nations representatives cynically portrayed the "real effect" of Chernobyl as "psychological," as if people who live in these regions are simply weak minded and not brave enough. Shame on them for saying this! It's simply not true.  I was heartened, though, to find that the US Congress was not buying any of that talk.  I've been told by the Belarusian Embassy here in Washington DC that he USA is the #1 source of support to Chernobyl regions in Belarus.

Did this essay help you develop a better understanding of life in Chernobyl affected regions? Use the star rating system below to tell me what you think:

I'm a fan of the television show Dirty Jobs on the Discovery Channel .. and this is a dirty job that beats all. 

A couple weeks ago I posted about the crumbling Chernobyl sarcophagus, and new efforts to contain it before it collapses and causes the next disaster.  We send volunteers to work with communities in Chernobyl regions, and I am sure you are not surprised to hear that this issue of the rickety sarcophagus is at top of mind for virtually all comers.  (I personally just try not to think about it.)

All of this work -- building the new sarcophagus, dismantling the old one, disposing of radioactive waste --  requires manpower.  And believe it or not,  in a region with limited opportunities, there is competition for this very dirty job.  This video, reposted from YouTube, shows the screening, selection and testing process for Chernobyl sarcophagus workers, and the lengths that they will go to to nab this job.  It is both surreal and moving.  The video was made by a student who calls himself Chernobyldoc, but since I don't know his name I can only credit him by pointing you to his blog. I really like his honesty, lack of irony, and disengagement to the political issues that surround Chernobyl.

There's a glibness that I enjoy in the Dirty Jobs television show that is absent from this very straightforward video.  These guys are heroes in many ways they would probably not think of, because they are really guys who just  need a job. Containing Chernobyl is going to be a lucrative endeavor for a number of companies, but the men in the field are offering the sacrifice in cleaning up a mess not of their making.

Sixty-two year old Portland resident Judy Bevilacqua spent most of her life dedicated to her husband, home and children -- she had no regrets and she did well. But two years ago -- while thumbing through a "ladies magazine" in her doctor's waiting room -- she came to the uncomfortable realization that she knew little about herself.  She didn't like this feeling.  But she turned her moment of discontent into a quest to fulfill her unlived dreams.  And she turned one of her dreams into a gift that will, over the coming year, save the lives of as many as 175 children touched by the Chernobyl accident.  This is her story:

When Judy started to feel her rumblings of dissatisfaction, her good friend Nikki suggested that she start to keep a journal of her dreams. (Nikki, along with Judy's daughter Rebekah, are pictured with Judy above.) Her husband, Jack, further encouraged her to turn to turn her dreams into action.  He told Margie Boule in last month's issue of  The Oregonian, "It was a wonderful thing to read her dream book and help remove the obstacles that might keep her heart from being alive." 

One of Judy's dreams was to swim Hood Canal.  Not a natural athlete, she trained hard and found it difficult and  monotonous.  To spark her motivation, she went back to her dream book, and saw that one of her dreams was to help children with birth defects.  She realized that she could accomplish two dreams with one swim. 

Judy's friend Steve Cagan, of Restoring Hope Foundation of Southern California, had raised $20,000 in a Chocolate Festival last year, and donated those funds to Chernobyl Children's Project International for a life saving children's cardiac surgery program in Belarus. Hearing about this program, Judy found  her inspiration. 

On September 1st, with her husband rowing beside her and holding up laminated photos of Belarusian children in need of heart surgery, and sponsors and supporters cheering her from the shore, Judy pushed her limits and swam two miles for the children of Belarus. "I don't have to be a Michael Jordan or a marathon runner. I can just be an elderly housewife who wanted to do this one little thing.  I have a mission."

Today, 2500 - 3000 children are on a waiting list to receive surgery to repair genetic defects of their hearts. These defects have increased in incidence since the disaster in 1986.  Chernobyl Children's Project International has funded Dr. William Novick and a team of volunteers to go to Belarus to perform these surgeries and train local physicians.  Hundreds of lives have been saved through this program. 

Judy's donation will be used to purchase a Somanetics Cerebral Oximeter -- a piece of equipment that will allow surgeons to non invasively monitor oxygen levels in a young patient's brain and kidneys while they are on bypass during surgery.  In doing so, surgical teams will be able to tell -- before the damage is done -- if the child is in danger of going into heart failure. We are purchasing this equipment right now, and Dr. Novick will take it to Belarus at the end of next month.  The equipment will save as many as 175 young lives a year. 

I think the best way to end this post is with a photo of one of the children who has benefited from cardiac surgery in Belarus.  More photos are in the gallery to the left of this page. We'll report back in December when the Cerebral Oximeter arrives and goes to work.

The nine small children sat at the long wooden table in the kitchen of a home in the Mogilev region of Belarus.  They chatted  happily as they slurped their tea with spoons.  The table was spread with sweets and cakes. Their foster mother, Tamara, moved around the table filling plates while her  husband Alfred reminded them to watch their manners in a gentle, no-nonsense voice.  It all was so natural and  comfortable. It was hard for me to imagine that two years ago, there was no family at all -- that each child had been living in a bleak orphanage. 

It took a bit of a miracle to bring this family together. About three years ago, Tamara and Alfred Savin had a newspaper delivered to them by mistake.  They almost didn't open it -- Alfred's position as an economics teacher kept him buried in books and grading papers, and Tamara was working full time as a diamond polisher. When Tamara finally looked at the newspaper she was stunned by the story of a baby boy who had been rescued from a latrine at a local milk farm.  His mother had given birth prematurely while on the job and had abandoned the child.  Her coworkers found little Valeriy where she left him, wrapped him in rags, and took him to the hospital where doctors were able to save his life.  The Savins were moved by the story . . and Valeriy -- who appears in the right corner of the photograph wearing green and blue coveralls -- became the first of their nine foster children with the help of CCPI's foster family program. 

You would think that a family with 9 small children would be chaotic, but Tamara's warmth is matched by Alfred's professorial formality and sense of order. The children played in the yard with abandon, but at Alfred's word they ran inside, removed and lined up their shoes, washed their hands and sat at the table. Alfred led them in prayer before they took their tea.  After tea, the children led us to the parlor where they entertained us with songs and poetry, and played Belarusian traditional instruments.  As we were leaving, Alfred took myself and Sherrie Douglas aside to let us know that he had the house inspected, and the electrical system did not pass code.  By luck, Chernobyl Children's Project International had a team of volunteer builders from Ireland working at the Vesnova Asylum, half an hour away.  Adi Roche was able to contact their head electrician and arrange for him to bring a team out that week to fix the problem. 

Alfred and Tamara Savin are a kind, capable, and hardworking couple who had room in their hearts to raise children without parents of their own.  We are committed to finding more parents like the Savins, and taking as many children as possible out of orphanages and placing them in families. 

This spring we stopped in to visit with the Gudkovskie family of Stariye Dorogi in Belarus.  We'd just spent a couple days at a local orphanage, and to see children in a loving family environment was a jarring  and welcome contrast. The Gudkovskies were CCPI's first foster home -- a program in which we take children who are living in orphanages and place them into carefully selected homes where they can thrive in a loving environment. To date we've placed 40 children in such homes and the program is accelerating.

Three years ago, Natasha Gudkovskie was working at an orphanage.  She couldn't stop thinking about the sadness of children without families, and their bleak prospects for the future. One girl in particular made an impression on Natasha  -- a pre-teen named Katya.  Katya and her sister Irina had been placed in the orphanage after their father was imprisoned and mother started abusing alcohol.  The sisters made many attempts to run away from the orphanage.  Natasha and her husband Sergei were struck by the girls' will for a happy life, and took them in as their own children.

The family grew when Natasha and Sergei took in another  girl, Inna -- a friend of the sisters.  Inna had grown bitter and aggressive and had not been able to be placed in any family.  Her brother Oleg soon followed, and then Ivan, a kindergartner who was abandoned by his mother in Minsk.  Finally, they were joined by two year old twins Anton and Julia.  Katya told us how after her birth father was imprisoned

...my mother started to drink alcohol and she did it more and more often.  We children were starving, begging on the streets. Later on, I was placed in an orphanage . . . there were strict regulations and no care for a child's personality.  I wanted to return to the days when I had a family.  Now I've found a new family where I feel very happy.  I know that all together we have our future. The main treasure I have is our family. 

The family prepared a big celebratory meal to greet us, with Sergei grilling meat outside, and a table spread with every kind of sweet and savory. The children, especially the girls, doted over Sergei, a handsome man with a striking mouthful full of gold teeth.  We look forward to seeing them again. 

Photographer Paul Fusco has traveled with us and in this incredibly affecting multimedia photo essay captures the human side of the Chernobyl tragedy.

I've only been involved in this work for 5 years but it seems to me that the "Chernobyl" issue (big quotes intentional) always seems to get bogged down in politics -- nuclear politics, environmental politics, UN politics, post Soviet politics ....  And it's sad, because "Chernobyl" has been taken over by interest groups (both pro and anti). These groups are asking really good and important questions, but never really getting close to the human heart of the matter and maybe even avoiding it on purpose.

It takes an artist like Paul Fusco to point out that however you might feel about nuclear politics, this disaster forces us to stare at loss, and at how our best inventions and intentions can fail us --  and there is no point in denying it. Click here to see some of what happened after, in Paul's words,"some guy hit the wrong button at the wrong time. And there was nothing he could do about it."

Sasha Levkin is one of the many children with whom we work.  Although he is mentally fit, he lives at the Vesnova Children's Mental Asylum in a rural area of Belarus. Your support allows us to improve the lives of many children affected by the Chernobyl disaster, as well us to provide hope for the future.  We do this largely by working on the community level.  But, by getting to know Sasha through his story, we have the chance to appreciate that behind every statistic, there is a unique human being who deserves to be acknowledged.  I know Sasha, and I am very moved by his dignity and positive outlook in the face of unusually difficult challenges.  The photo shows him with CCPI volunteer Suzanne Reese.

Eighteen year old Sasha Levkin, a resident of the Vesnova Children's Asylum in Belarus, stays indoors for months each winter because his wheelchair cannot be maneuvered in the snow.  To mentally escape the boredom of the asylum he spends time looking at a small photo album he always carries with him in a black bag hanging from the back of his wheelchair.  He shows the album to all newcomers. Inside is a picture of his sister Katja, who has not been to visit him since early summer as she has no means of  transportation.  He also has photos of his cousins, his godmother, and his aunt.  None of them visit more than once a year, but he says he thinks of them every day. 

Sasha's father committed suicide when the boy was 9 months old.  His mother , who was also an alcoholic, began to beat him when he was a toddler, until he was sent to live with his aunt in 20o1.

My mother didn't care about me, she didn't feed me -- she is an alcoholic, always drinking vodka and then hurting me.  I never want to see my mother again.  She didn't hit me when I was very little.  At that time I could crawl and could get up from the floor to the sofa by myself, but then she started to beat me and I could no longer do such things.

Sasha liked living with his aunt, but unfortunately his physical disabilities were too great for her to take care of him. 

So, he is happy with his life at Vesnova, where the other kids see him as a leader, one of the cool guys. 

I like it here at Vesnova, this is home to me, I like the director, but some of the smaller kids drive me crazy.  In the future I would like to be a translator.  It looks like a good job and then I could help CCPI.

I gave Sasha an English-Russian language program on CD, and he picks up new words and phrases with ease.  Since he is not able to use his hands, he gets some of the younger kids to change the disks for him. He and his friends like to sit in a circle repeating phrases, and they take their studies very seriously.  When I last visited him in April, he was using some of his new language skills to flirt with the volunteers. Sasha was even confident enough to patronize me a bit -- he told me my Russian language skills were improving "quite nicely."  I was chagrined that I could barely thank him in his own language!

Sasha is eighteen years old now, and he will soon be moved into an adult mental institution, where his prospects for survival are very poor.  "I don't want to leave Vesnova.  I have friends here and don't want to leave what has become my home."  We are extremely concerned about Sasha's future, but not quite sure what we can do to help him.  I'll continue to post updates.  The image on the right shows Sasha when I woke him up in the middle of the night to show him that his photograph was published in PEOPLE Magazine last year.  He was beyond pleased. (And I still think he should have been on the cover, instead of whats-her-name Tom Cruise's latest wife.  Go figure!)

program keeps disabled children at home, not in orphanages

In previous updates we've shown how devastating life is for mentally or physically disabled children who live out their lives in orphanages.  And, without intervention, the grim future they face as institutionalized adults segregated from society forever. Thanks to your financial support, we've also been able to tell you happier stories -- stories of our foster families. These amazing families have joined children -- all of whom lived in orphanages and have histories of loss, abuse and neglect -- with parents eager to share their love and provide a secure and nurturing home.

This update is about our Community Care program. This program -- serving 18 children in Minsk, Belarus but set for expansion -- takes disabled children off the waiting lists for orphanages, and provides their families with the support they need to care for their children at home.

Visiting these families last month, I was struck by the unique determination of these parents -- often single mothers -- who care for their children at home in a region where institutionalization is the norm. Chernobyl Children's Project International provides therapeutic home visits, training and supplies for families, outings and other types of support, such as swimming pool visits, accessible home adaptations, and camping experiences for the children. But the passion to overcome obstacles and make it all work comes from the parents themselves.

Andrei, pictured at the top of this post, is an 11 year old with cerebral palsy and autism.  He's a happy and well cared for boy, and his mother is delighted with him -- but clearly exhausted by his activity level.  He is in constant, exhuberant, and barely controlled motion.  It was great to see their loving bond, but I couldn't help but think what a handful he will be as they both get older. They will need all the  support they can get.

Ignat, the calm and handsome boy pictured in my lap to the right , is 6 years old and like many of our children in the program has cerebral palsy.  He lives with his mother, who is single, and his grandmother in a tiny, one bedroom apartment.  A wheelchair lift on the stairs built by CCPI volunteers, and a wheelchair accessible van (paid for with your donations) make it possible for him to enjoy pool therapy visits and trips to McDonald's (a popular treat for the kids and their parents!)

The little girl pictured in the pink jacket is 6 year old Nadya. She has cerebral palsy and suffers frequent seizures.  In the photo she is held by CCPI board member Michael Rodin -- but I enlarged the photo to focus on her lovely face and eyes.  Her eyes are the only responsive part of her, until we turn on her music box and her mouth explodes into a smile. Their apartment had no furniture or comforts and Tanya, Nadya's mother, seemed  to be extraordinarily stressed, on "on the edge."  She told us she was not sure how long she would be able to continue caring for Nadya at home.  This is clearly a family we need to observe and support carefully in the coming months.

Thirteen year old Marguerita is pictured with medical care program coordinator Valentin Chernyakevich, who manages the staff of Belarusian therapists who make home visits to our children.  An inoperable tumor on her spine has taken away her ability to walk. But she uses a wheelchair provided by your donations, and a ramp built by CCPI building program volunteers allows her to get out with her mother and participate in fun activities organized by Valentin and his staff. Last summer, she attended one of our camps for disabled children, and she loves her regular trips to the swimming pool.  She told us she would like to have a chance to ride a horse. Marguerita speaks a bit of English -- it's her favorite subject when a teacher comes in to visit her, and she loves to get letters written in English. She is proud of her mother's singing voice, and urged her to sing Belarusian folks songs to us. She is a very happy and optimistic girl.

Eighteen children, and families who critically need professional and social support in order to care for them at home.  All of them would be in institutions without this program.  Cared for by strangers, they would be extremely vulnerable. Please consider making a donation to help us continue this program, and expand it to help more disabled children avoid the horror of institutionalization and stay with their families where they belong.

zhila family: children heal wounds of tragic past, face hopeful future

Two weeks ago, we visited the Zhila family in the Ossipovichi, Mogliev region of Belarus.  The Zhilas are a part of Chernobyl Children's Project International's foster families program -- we take children out of orphanages and place them in carefully selected, real family homes.

You can read the stories of the Savin and Gudkovskie families -- remarkable families with amazing stories of survival.

We spent the previous night at an orphanage.  As our van navigated the country roads toward Ossipovichi, I knew that seeing children in a loving family would be a jarring and welcome contrast. But I was haunted by the knowledge that these 10 children -- ages 5 to 16 -- have shocking stories of loss and neglect. 

As we arrived, Petr (the father), was putting finishing touches on a new porch. He had been busy since our last visit, building bookshelves and desks for the children, and expanding the family areas of the home.  His wife Galina made tea and told us how the children are adapting to family life.  (Go to our website to see video of sisters singing a song to us.)

The children pulled our hands and excitedly took us from one room to the next. They giggled as they showed off their bedrooms, their new desks, their school projects and personal treasures.  Looking at their happy faces I remembered terrible stories from their recent pasts.  About how the birth mother of Tanya (11),  Sasha (10) , and Kirill (5) spent food money on alcohol and left the children to starve. They found bits of potato peel to fry on the fire. How their father beat them with a stick after they ran away, and how they watched as he broke their mother’s legs.  How they rescued her when she tried to commit suicide by hanging, and by cutting her wrists.

When Andrea (11)  and Roxana (7) lost their mother in an accident, their father medicated his grief with alcohol.  He tried to quit but couldn't, and they moved to their beloved grandmother's home. A house fire killed their grandmother, and left Roxana with burns over 30% of her body.  Scars from her burns peeked out from the neck of her blouse as she and the other children performed songs for us and played with each other.

In the parlour I spotted a small shrine to their dead 5 year old son, and I realized that Galina and Petr knew something themselves about loss and moving on. 

No doubt many challenges are ahead for this newly formed family.  And yet, today, it seems natural for them to be together.  The children behave as if they’ve been together forever. And Galina and Petr are grateful for their large family, and determined to surround their children with love and prepare them for a hopeful future.

The Zhila home was sponsored by the Cork Outreach Group of Chernobyl Children’s Project International.  If you, your business, or community group would like to learn about sponsoring a “home of hope, email me.

story: strangers join talents to help chernobyl children

CCPI supporters Derek Casari and Perry Norton recently surprised us with the gift of radio public service announcements (PSAs). Click on the player below to listen to one, and then read on for the story of how two strangers merged their talents to help children affected by Chernobyl. (If you're reading this post on email you may need to click here to see the audio player.)

 

Perry (pictured left) is the woman behind PanRight Productions, a one stop studio that creates audio for commercials, games, audio books, podcasts, and PSAs. Her mission is to "be a champion for artists and non profits for whom being heard is the most important task." In the spirit of last month's holidays, Perry offered her clients a special gift -- a free radio PSA for the favorite charity of the first 5 clients to respond.

Derek was first in line, requesting a PSA to benefit Chernobyl Children's Project International.   Derek is a systems engineer for 20th Century Fox post production in LA. Several years ago, Derek's six year old son Aaron died of a rare form of liver cancer. (With Derek's permission, here's a picture of Aaron and his grandfather at right.)  Derek told me that two years of grueling chemo regimens and sleepless nights spent at Children's Hospital of LA -- and the ultimate loss of Aaron, who so desired to grow up -- destroyed his marriage, his finances, and almost his  mind.  His search to find meaning in his son's death led Derek to volunteer for sustainable business incubator Green2Gold. And he found a special attraction to CCPI programs that help seriously ill children, and an admiration for CCPI founder Adi Roche.

Derek and Perry worked together to develop the public service announcement above, and presented it as a gift. This story is a reminder that doing good is not always about donating cash. It can be about thinking creatively, mining your talents, and combining your talents with other's. CCPI could never have afforded to pay for the creation of these PSAs on our own.  And now you can help us get them out to be heard.

The PSA comes in 15 and 30 second versions, and a one minute version.  Westwood One and Beasley Broadcast Group have already agreed to run them.  Here's how you can help:

Blogger? Post our PSAs -- email me and I'll send them to you.

Radio station or media company contacts?   Ask them to run the PSAs.

None of the above?  Click on "email this link" at the bottom of this post and spread the word.  As Perry says -- "being heard is the most important task."  And the children affected by Chernobyl are well overdue to be heard.  This post is in memory of Aaron Casari.

photo essay: chernobyl seen by children

In March 2006 Unicef organized a photography workshop for children who live in Chernobyl affected communities in Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia.  Each of the kids, aged 12 to 17, was born after the Chernobyl disaster of 1986.  Each was asked to go back to their home country and take photographs to capture their personal experience of Chernobyl.  I first saw the photos in Minsk in 2006. 

Here is Unicef's online photo essay, Chernobyl Seen by Children.

Last month the photos were exhibited again at the United Nations in New York city.  The UN General Assembly convened a meeting called "A World Fit for Children +5."  At this meeting, world leaders reviewed progress against international initiatives to improve the health and well being of children.  It was a fitting venue to revisit how the Chernobyl disaster has affected a new generation.

In November, I posted my observation that many of the most popular "genre" of Chernobyl photographs are taken by outsiders, and thus have a voyeuristic quality.  I find these photos refreshing in contrast because they reflect each child's personal and ordinary experience. As the exhibition materials point out, "for these children Chernobyl is not statistics, it is daily life."  For more on how children artistically address Chernobyl, click here to see the Chernobyl Child Artists photo gallery on this blog.

It would be an affront to minimize how Chernobyl affects children and families today.  At the same time, these photographs underscore how important it is for organizations such as CCPI to help families focus on the future.  Realistically, but with hope.  As do these young photographers.

The photo of the baby (who has cancer) admiring the camera was taken by Anton Gordeichik of Belarus.  Vitaliy Sigaev, age 13, of the Russian Federation took picture of the boy his age in the hospital.  Both pictures are from the Unicef exhibit "Chernobyl Seen by Children."

chernobyl: the life saving gift at work

I can't look at this picture without imagining how I might feel to see my own child in an intensive care unit, hooked up to tubes and wires and hissing electronic equipment.  Only days ago, this child's parents were in the situation all parents dread:  Not knowing if their child would live or die.  Today she lives, thanks to a partnership between American and Belarusian surgeons and a life saving gift.

In October, I wrote about the Portland grandmother and the unusual way she raised funds to help kids needing heart surgery in Belarus. We combined her donation with one from a Rotary Club to purchase a Somanetics Cardiac Oximeter.  The oximeter just arrived in Belarus with a volunteer surgical team.  (The device allows surgeons to non invasively monitor oxygen levels in a young patient's brain and kidneys while they are on bypass during surgery. If the heart fails, the surgical team can intervene before irreparable damage is done.)

This equipment will save the lives of as many as 175 children a year.  We thought you might like to see this photo of the first one.  Pictured here,  Dmitry Leskovsky MD  (of the  National  Children's Cardiac Center in Minsk) and William Novick MD performed what is called a "Stage 1 Norwood" on the child.  The operation is one of the more complex performed in the USA or Europe.

As I reported last week, our cardiac surgery program has saved the lives of close to 300 children in Belarus, and has provided training and equipment that reduced the waiting list for children's heart surgeries from 7000 to 2400 under 5 years.  This spring, we will bring the program to Ukraine, where 50% of children who need complicated heart surgeries do not get it.

But today, we are celebrating the life of this one child.

chernobyl and getting on with it

This photo is from a series by Don Weber.  It's called Bastard Eden: Chernobyl at Twenty.  His book of photos is due out this spring.

I love these photos, and as I look at them I wonder -- why?  I think because they lack any kind of voyeurism. Instead of being invited to stare, we are invited to understand.  Each subject is their own hero.  They've experienced Chernobyl, and they're getting on with it anyway.

Bill Crandall's photo  of a young Belarusian girl in dance class is another of this uplifting, humanistic type.  Look at her face -- is she thinking about Chernobyl?

It's easy to find a lot of "Chernobyl genre" photos on the Internet.  The blogosphere loves the spooky "ghost town" sort epitomized by Elena Filatova and her motorcycle tour of Pripyat. Another type of photos accentuates  terrible human suffering. Paul Fusco's sensitive work is, in my opinion, the best of this type.  His photo essay brings a tear to my eye no matter how often I watch it.

I've been to these places and met the people featured in these photos, and I can attest with my hand on my heart that it is all true and not exaggerated -- and yet it is only a part of the truth. The most amazing and under reported truth of Chernobyl is that the people who live here really love life.  They enjoy life. They can be fun to be around. They want to move on with their lives. And they do.  If we wish to help them, the best thing we can do is give them that extra bit of support that will keep them moving forward and working towards a better time for themselves and their kids.  (And isn't this the same thing we want in the USA, when disaster punches us?)

We need a new mental image of people living with Chernobyl. I can't approach the artistry of Don and Bill, but I can snap off a family photo, and I have images of my own of Chernobyl people enjoying their lives. Sasha, shown here in his wheelchair, loves to party and flirt with girls.  I've heard he likes the odd beer and is looking forward to the flat we want to build him this spring so that he won't have to move to an adult asylum. Pavel, who lives in an orphanage in Kletsk, is an artist who would not accept my money for his painting.  And you should check out this story about Sasha Levkin -- a boy with cerebral palsy who loves to travel and will not be held back.

I'm in this photo with Misha. He started his life in an asylum for mentally ill kids -- probably misunderstood because of his cleft palate and what I like to call his "accent."  Most kids never make it out of a place like that.  A few years ago, Misha got an operation from American doctors in Minsk. Unfortunately, Misha didn't understand that he wasn't allowed to eat any solids for a week after the operation.  After a few days of being hungry, he ate an apple and split his lip back open. It's a tough break, but it hasn't slowed him down too much. In spite of everything, he is making a modest living as a cobbler, and supporting himself and the woman who adopted him as a teen.  He sees himself as a pretty handsome guy (and as  a result, so do I).  He is big fan of Jean Claude Van Damme movies.  He is not shy and he makes a few bucks re-selling gifts given to him by Chernobyl Children's Project International volunteers.  He never hesitates to ask for more or to pretend that he doesn't remember the previous (re-sold) gifts. He is such a smooth talker, that I question my own memory. 

I have scores of stories like this -- hope and persistence are the untold legacy of Chernobyl and I wish it were more widely recognized.

In April 2006, Chernobyl Children's Project International was invited by the United States Congress and the Helsinki Commission to testify about the ongoing effects of Chernobyl.  At both of these hearings, United Nations representatives cynically portrayed the "real effect" of Chernobyl as "psychological," as if people who live in these regions are simply weak minded and not brave enough. Shame on them for saying this! It's simply not true.  I was heartened, though, to find that the US Congress was not buying any of that talk.  I've been told by the Belarusian Embassy here in Washington DC that he USA is the #1 source of support to Chernobyl regions in Belarus.

Did this essay help you develop a better understanding of life in Chernobyl affected regions? Use the star rating system below to tell me what you think:

the ultimate "dirty job": chernobyl sarcophagus workers video

I'm a fan of the television show Dirty Jobs on the Discovery Channel .. and this is a dirty job that beats all. 

A couple weeks ago I posted about the crumbling Chernobyl sarcophagus, and new efforts to contain it before it collapses and causes the next disaster.  We send volunteers to work with communities in Chernobyl regions, and I am sure you are not surprised to hear that this issue of the rickety sarcophagus is at top of mind for virtually all comers.  (I personally just try not to think about it.)

All of this work -- building the new sarcophagus, dismantling the old one, disposing of radioactive waste --  requires manpower.  And believe it or not,  in a region with limited opportunities, there is competition for this very dirty job.  This video, reposted from YouTube, shows the screening, selection and testing process for Chernobyl sarcophagus workers, and the lengths that they will go to to nab this job.  It is both surreal and moving.  The video was made by a student who calls himself Chernobyldoc, but since I don't know his name I can only credit him by pointing you to his blog. I really like his honesty, lack of irony, and disengagement to the political issues that surround Chernobyl.

There's a glibness that I enjoy in the Dirty Jobs television show that is absent from this very straightforward video.  These guys are heroes in many ways they would probably not think of, because they are really guys who just  need a job. Containing Chernobyl is going to be a lucrative endeavor for a number of companies, but the men in the field are offering the sacrifice in cleaning up a mess not of their making.

the grandmother, her dream, and her life saving gift

Sixty-two year old Portland resident Judy Bevilacqua spent most of her life dedicated to her husband, home and children -- she had no regrets and she did well. But two years ago -- while thumbing through a "ladies magazine" in her doctor's waiting room -- she came to the uncomfortable realization that she knew little about herself.  She didn't like this feeling.  But she turned her moment of discontent into a quest to fulfill her unlived dreams.  And she turned one of her dreams into a gift that will, over the coming year, save the lives of as many as 175 children touched by the Chernobyl accident.  This is her story:

When Judy started to feel her rumblings of dissatisfaction, her good friend Nikki suggested that she start to keep a journal of her dreams. (Nikki, along with Judy's daughter Rebekah, are pictured with Judy above.) Her husband, Jack, further encouraged her to turn to turn her dreams into action.  He told Margie Boule in last month's issue of  The Oregonian, "It was a wonderful thing to read her dream book and help remove the obstacles that might keep her heart from being alive." 

One of Judy's dreams was to swim Hood Canal.  Not a natural athlete, she trained hard and found it difficult and  monotonous.  To spark her motivation, she went back to her dream book, and saw that one of her dreams was to help children with birth defects.  She realized that she could accomplish two dreams with one swim. 

Judy's friend Steve Cagan, of Restoring Hope Foundation of Southern California, had raised $20,000 in a Chocolate Festival last year, and donated those funds to Chernobyl Children's Project International for a life saving children's cardiac surgery program in Belarus. Hearing about this program, Judy found  her inspiration. 

On September 1st, with her husband rowing beside her and holding up laminated photos of Belarusian children in need of heart surgery, and sponsors and supporters cheering her from the shore, Judy pushed her limits and swam two miles for the children of Belarus. "I don't have to be a Michael Jordan or a marathon runner. I can just be an elderly housewife who wanted to do this one little thing.  I have a mission."

Today, 2500 - 3000 children are on a waiting list to receive surgery to repair genetic defects of their hearts. These defects have increased in incidence since the disaster in 1986.  Chernobyl Children's Project International has funded Dr. William Novick and a team of volunteers to go to Belarus to perform these surgeries and train local physicians.  Hundreds of lives have been saved through this program. 

Judy's donation will be used to purchase a Somanetics Cerebral Oximeter -- a piece of equipment that will allow surgeons to non invasively monitor oxygen levels in a young patient's brain and kidneys while they are on bypass during surgery.  In doing so, surgical teams will be able to tell -- before the damage is done -- if the child is in danger of going into heart failure. We are purchasing this equipment right now, and Dr. Novick will take it to Belarus at the end of next month.  The equipment will save as many as 175 young lives a year. 

I think the best way to end this post is with a photo of one of the children who has benefited from cardiac surgery in Belarus.  More photos are in the gallery to the left of this page. We'll report back in December when the Cerebral Oximeter arrives and goes to work.

tea with the savins

The nine small children sat at the long wooden table in the kitchen of a home in the Mogilev region of Belarus.  They chatted  happily as they slurped their tea with spoons.  The table was spread with sweets and cakes. Their foster mother, Tamara, moved around the table filling plates while her  husband Alfred reminded them to watch their manners in a gentle, no-nonsense voice.  It all was so natural and  comfortable. It was hard for me to imagine that two years ago, there was no family at all -- that each child had been living in a bleak orphanage. 

It took a bit of a miracle to bring this family together. About three years ago, Tamara and Alfred Savin had a newspaper delivered to them by mistake.  They almost didn't open it -- Alfred's position as an economics teacher kept him buried in books and grading papers, and Tamara was working full time as a diamond polisher. When Tamara finally looked at the newspaper she was stunned by the story of a baby boy who had been rescued from a latrine at a local milk farm.  His mother had given birth prematurely while on the job and had abandoned the child.  Her coworkers found little Valeriy where she left him, wrapped him in rags, and took him to the hospital where doctors were able to save his life.  The Savins were moved by the story . . and Valeriy -- who appears in the right corner of the photograph wearing green and blue coveralls -- became the first of their nine foster children with the help of CCPI's foster family program. 

You would think that a family with 9 small children would be chaotic, but Tamara's warmth is matched by Alfred's professorial formality and sense of order. The children played in the yard with abandon, but at Alfred's word they ran inside, removed and lined up their shoes, washed their hands and sat at the table. Alfred led them in prayer before they took their tea.  After tea, the children led us to the parlor where they entertained us with songs and poetry, and played Belarusian traditional instruments.  As we were leaving, Alfred took myself and Sherrie Douglas aside to let us know that he had the house inspected, and the electrical system did not pass code.  By luck, Chernobyl Children's Project International had a team of volunteer builders from Ireland working at the Vesnova Asylum, half an hour away.  Adi Roche was able to contact their head electrician and arrange for him to bring a team out that week to fix the problem. 

Alfred and Tamara Savin are a kind, capable, and hardworking couple who had room in their hearts to raise children without parents of their own.  We are committed to finding more parents like the Savins, and taking as many children as possible out of orphanages and placing them in families. 

the gudkovskie family: "all together we have our future"

This spring we stopped in to visit with the Gudkovskie family of Stariye Dorogi in Belarus.  We'd just spent a couple days at a local orphanage, and to see children in a loving family environment was a jarring  and welcome contrast. The Gudkovskies were CCPI's first foster home -- a program in which we take children who are living in orphanages and place them into carefully selected homes where they can thrive in a loving environment. To date we've placed 40 children in such homes and the program is accelerating.

Three years ago, Natasha Gudkovskie was working at an orphanage.  She couldn't stop thinking about the sadness of children without families, and their bleak prospects for the future. One girl in particular made an impression on Natasha  -- a pre-teen named Katya.  Katya and her sister Irina had been placed in the orphanage after their father was imprisoned and mother started abusing alcohol.  The sisters made many attempts to run away from the orphanage.  Natasha and her husband Sergei were struck by the girls' will for a happy life, and took them in as their own children.

The family grew when Natasha and Sergei took in another  girl, Inna -- a friend of the sisters.  Inna had grown bitter and aggressive and had not been able to be placed in any family.  Her brother Oleg soon followed, and then Ivan, a kindergartner who was abandoned by his mother in Minsk.  Finally, they were joined by two year old twins Anton and Julia.  Katya told us how after her birth father was imprisoned

...my mother started to drink alcohol and she did it more and more often.  We children were starving, begging on the streets. Later on, I was placed in an orphanage . . . there were strict regulations and no care for a child's personality.  I wanted to return to the days when I had a family.  Now I've found a new family where I feel very happy.  I know that all together we have our future. The main treasure I have is our family. 

The family prepared a big celebratory meal to greet us, with Sergei grilling meat outside, and a table spread with every kind of sweet and savory. The children, especially the girls, doted over Sergei, a handsome man with a striking mouthful full of gold teeth.  We look forward to seeing them again. 

everything we make wears out: paul fusco photo essay

Photographer Paul Fusco has traveled with us and in this incredibly affecting multimedia photo essay captures the human side of the Chernobyl tragedy.

I've only been involved in this work for 5 years but it seems to me that the "Chernobyl" issue (big quotes intentional) always seems to get bogged down in politics -- nuclear politics, environmental politics, UN politics, post Soviet politics ....  And it's sad, because "Chernobyl" has been taken over by interest groups (both pro and anti). These groups are asking really good and important questions, but never really getting close to the human heart of the matter and maybe even avoiding it on purpose.

It takes an artist like Paul Fusco to point out that however you might feel about nuclear politics, this disaster forces us to stare at loss, and at how our best inventions and intentions can fail us --  and there is no point in denying it. Click here to see some of what happened after, in Paul's words,"some guy hit the wrong button at the wrong time. And there was nothing he could do about it."

meet sasha levkin

Sasha Levkin is one of the many children with whom we work.  Although he is mentally fit, he lives at the Vesnova Children's Mental Asylum in a rural area of Belarus. Your support allows us to improve the lives of many children affected by the Chernobyl disaster, as well us to provide hope for the future.  We do this largely by working on the community level.  But, by getting to know Sasha through his story, we have the chance to appreciate that behind every statistic, there is a unique human being who deserves to be acknowledged.  I know Sasha, and I am very moved by his dignity and positive outlook in the face of unusually difficult challenges.  The photo shows him with CCPI volunteer Suzanne Reese.

Eighteen year old Sasha Levkin, a resident of the Vesnova Children's Asylum in Belarus, stays indoors for months each winter because his wheelchair cannot be maneuvered in the snow.  To mentally escape the boredom of the asylum he spends time looking at a small photo album he always carries with him in a black bag hanging from the back of his wheelchair.  He shows the album to all newcomers. Inside is a picture of his sister Katja, who has not been to visit him since early summer as she has no means of  transportation.  He also has photos of his cousins, his godmother, and his aunt.  None of them visit more than once a year, but he says he thinks of them every day. 

Sasha's father committed suicide when the boy was 9 months old.  His mother , who was also an alcoholic, began to beat him when he was a toddler, until he was sent to live with his aunt in 20o1.

My mother didn't care about me, she didn't feed me -- she is an alcoholic, always drinking vodka and then hurting me.  I never want to see my mother again.  She didn't hit me when I was very little.  At that time I could crawl and could get up from the floor to the sofa by myself, but then she started to beat me and I could no longer do such things.

Sasha liked living with his aunt, but unfortunately his physical disabilities were too great for her to take care of him. 

So, he is happy with his life at Vesnova, where the other kids see him as a leader, one of the cool guys. 

I like it here at Vesnova, this is home to me, I like the director, but some of the smaller kids drive me crazy.  In the future I would like to be a translator.  It looks like a good job and then I could help CCPI.

I gave Sasha an English-Russian language program on CD, and he picks up new words and phrases with ease.  Since he is not able to use his hands, he gets some of the younger kids to change the disks for him. He and his friends like to sit in a circle repeating phrases, and they take their studies very seriously.  When I last visited him in April, he was using some of his new language skills to flirt with the volunteers. Sasha was even confident enough to patronize me a bit -- he told me my Russian language skills were improving "quite nicely."  I was chagrined that I could barely thank him in his own language!

Sasha is eighteen years old now, and he will soon be moved into an adult mental institution, where his prospects for survival are very poor.  "I don't want to leave Vesnova.  I have friends here and don't want to leave what has become my home."  We are extremely concerned about Sasha's future, but not quite sure what we can do to help him.  I'll continue to post updates.  The image on the right shows Sasha when I woke him up in the middle of the night to show him that his photograph was published in PEOPLE Magazine last year.  He was beyond pleased. (And I still think he should have been on the cover, instead of whats-her-name Tom Cruise's latest wife.  Go figure!)