Ukraine: A Clinic Day in Fontanka, TWO Thanksgiving Feasts, and Dolphins!
A BIG Day 3! Ukraine Medical Clinics. Wednesday, 2 November 2022
I woke with a mild sadness as I realized our week would be ending very soon. I shared this with my team and some of them smiled and said, “Renate, it's only the beginning of Day 3! We've got 3 whole days left!” Still, I could sense a vague bittersweetness taking root in my spirit.
I left it alone and prepared for the day. Today was blue puppy dog compression socks day. I wondered if I might be handing them over to someone more deserving than I like yesterday and the day before…
We were told we would be heading about an hour east, that our patients would be chiefly refugees from the Kherson (“Hare-sone”) and Mykoliav (“Nee-ko-lie-iv”) regions but that our day would be a little bit shorter today because the pastor of the church where we are staying had a surprise for us. And something about dolphins. Intriguing!
It was a pretty drive…
Aniel parked our van right next to the entrance of the Church of the Good News, in Fontanka, a city not far from the Black Sea, and we were greeted warmly by the pastor.
Alexei joined us for a third day but few children were expected so again he helped with interpretation and evaluation at triage and I evaluated patients with Ginger. A bright and joyful room was to be our treatment room for the day.



The patients came and we were eager to help as much as possible.











Ginger saw a man, a refugee, who brought in x-rays to show her the shrapnel buried in his lungs. I am not sure in which city or when the incident took place, but he told her the bomb sirens sounded and he sent his family off to the bomb shelter. But, for reasons unclear to us, he did not hide with them, even though they were encouraging him to do so. A missile blast hit near him and although not mortally wounded he sustained a concussion and received shrapnel injuries to not only his lungs but his face, which were still evident. He landed hard from the impact and was still having difficulty moving his left shoulder. And he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Ginger held up his x-rays to the light and showed them to me…metal fragments in lung tissue which cannot be removed…There was not much we could do for him. But, perhaps that’s not quite correct. For a few minutes, more significant than we probably can understand, two people, a physician and her interpreter (Nastea), silently listened as a Ukrainian man, a refugee of war, told his story…For a few precious minutes, his story was heard and he was held. There is healing in that, I’m certain. There just has to be.
I remember a thankfulness sweeping over me at having packed all the orthopedic supplies that George (my Emergency Department physician husband, gone now these almost 5 years) had long-collected and stored. A woman came in with tremendous knee pain from arthritis. I looked in the suitcase I brought, outside in the van, filled with supplies, and found the knee brace I’d used last December after fracturing my right patella. It was heavy duty and adjustable and fit my patient well. She’ll have support now (and I also recommended paracetamol - acetaminophen - and ibuprofen to help with pain). Her gratitude was such that it was almost worth a fractured patella to have just the right knee brace handy!
Her next stop was the reading glasses station and we still had the correct magnification she required.
The reading glasses station was so crucial. At home, I have mine strewn in every room and grumble if I have to walk the ten feet or so to another room to find a pair. To watch as so many of our patients delicately handled the readers to select the one pair they would take home with them to help them navigate reading - like breathing or eating to me and always taken for granted, but here in Ukraine a luxury for so many who haven’t even one pair - just one pair…this humbled me greatly.
It was so lovely to have what a patient needed. When nothing was indicated, instead of letting a patient leave empty-handed, we would at least offer them vitamins [that is, until we ran out - Note to Self: Next time, bring lots of bottles of multi-vitamins].
“…[W]here we were very lovingly feasted and had victuals and water at will.” -C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
At lunchtime, we discovered a feast had been prepared for us by the pastor’s wife and helpers…
Even now, as I ponder the extreme generosity of time and food given to us, I am greatly humbled. Aniel called our lunchtime meal a wedding feast. I think I liken it to a true Thanksgiving Feast, prepared and given to us with the purest gratitude. It became crucial to our team to learn how to say “thank you” in Ukrainian, Russian, and Romanian, the languages we heard everyday, to offer our thanks for the hours of preparation and the deliciousness and, though unspoken, our stark realization that food is not guaranteed for anyone in Ukraine at this time. Even without knowing what the coming days or months will bring, whether food will be plentiful or scant, we were given SO MUCH. I thought I’d be full for days after the potatoes, salad, meats, amazing grapes, and coffee and treats…
“Thank you” in…
Ukrainian: Дякую (“dak-oo-yoo”)
Russian: Спасибо (“spuh-see-buh”)
Romanian: Mulțumesc (the “t” sounds like “ts”)





At about 3pm, we packed up and headed back to the church (with puppy dog compression socks still donned) where we were staying in Odessa. Alexei had had to leave us earlier in the day.
As we drove away from Fontanka, my thoughts lingered on those grapes at lunchtime. We Americans had been enraptured by them. They were wine grapes but for eating. Nastea and Roma said they are very common in Moldova. We could not get enough of them and were in wonder at their mouth feel and flavor. They were like biting into effervescence! We loved them so much that we managed to take some extras with us. But then, back in the van, on the box of grapes D.J. was holding, he read that the grapes were from…you’ll never guess…South Carolina! And, as we drove away that afternoon, in the back seat with Nastea and Roma, with a bit of let-down, I said out loud, "Those grapes tasted a lot better when I didn’t know they were from South Carolina.” Everyone in the van burst into laughter.
Back at our home church in Odessa, our host, Pastor Igor, was waiting in another van with his two daughters and we quickly changed clothes and headed out for a surprise evening together.
As the sun set we parked near the city center of Odessa and took a short walk. The city is beautiful. There were cobblestone streets and gorgeous architecture.





Our first stop was the Odessa Passage, a beautiful late-19th century hotel building. Its glass ceiling and fine decorative elements inspired immediate awe. Neo-Baroque mixed with Moorish aspects. We made quick visits to a few of the shops inside for Ukrainian souvenirs. (I got a Christmas tree ornament, some bracelets, and a magnet. I like collecting magnets from places!)
Leaving this beautiful building our next stop was a Ukrainian chocolate shop!




If my family reads this they’ll find out I did a lot of Christmas shopping here - Ukrainian chocolate bars are highly portable and delicious!
A quick walk down the block near Cathedral Square where we continued to be entertained by street musicians, and saw horses and restaurants in a dreamily magical setting. Pastor Igor and I chatted as we walked and he explained that Odessa had been bombed at the beginning of the war but away from the city center which remained intact. But, it had been bombed during WWII so much of the beautiful architecture we were now admiring was recreated to closely as possible represent the original.
A few minutes into our walk, Nastea and I noticed a colorful sign hanging from a window overhead. Nastea interpreted its meaning:
We were soon whisked away to the evening’s main event - a dolphin show by the Black Sea! I was beyond thrilled, a little girl again!
There was a porthole window of sorts as we entered the aquarium building and a great big dolphin swam by, so close, surprising and elating me so that I jumped up and down!
Once we were seated inside by the large pool we could see even more dolphins swimming in what seemed to be true anticipation. Perhaps the music was preparing both man and beast for the show to come? (Should dolphins ever be called beasts? Sea beasts?)
First, the sea lions. So smart!






I loved when they walked upright next to their trainers…that was my favorite. Oh! So was the opera-singing sea lion!
One sea lion came up to Nastea and gave her a kiss on the cheek! That was my favorite, too!
Then, the dolphins. They were magnificent!









And, we even saw dolphin patriotism!



It looked like each trainer had two dolphins a piece, dolphins who not only seemed to listen and obey attentively but adoringly; they appeared truly devoted to their individual trainers. We learned that night from Aniel that many dolphins and porpoises (more than 700) washed up on the shores of Romania, Ukraine, and Turkey, apparent casualties of war, killed by “extensive military traffic including 20 Russian warships, exploding missiles and bombs, fires, ship sinkings, and…floating mines. It’s theorized that the loud explosions under the sea and the low frequency sonar are what is killing the dolphins due to their extremely acute hearing (used for echolocation).”*
I never ever thought of dolphins as casualties of war…
This does not compute…
I love shows highlighting sea animals but have also always felt a bit of ambivalence at the thought of dolphins or other sea creatures “held in captivity.” I have never quite reconciled the whole concept in my mind. But, the animals I saw tonight seemed truly happy (as far as an extremely intelligent sea mammal can appear happy to a human who tends to confessedly anthropomorphize quite a lot) and lovingly devoted to their trainers. They also were unequivocally ALIVE, best of all, unlike their cousins, decidedly NOT living “wild and free” in the Black Sea. The heartbreak of those deaths replaced my ambivalence with deep gratitude for the breathing healthy sea creatures I saw yes, even dancing, before me.
The show continued for about an hour. We learned that a member of our host’s church contacted the dolphin center letting them know a team of Americans was coming to help in Ukraine and requesting a discount for us to attend the show which was granted! We attended for 50% off the regular price! I’ve no idea who did us this great favor but I am ever so thankful!
Next, a quick meander over to the Black Sea a few meters from the dolphin center, the Odessa Dolphinarium. The sea and sky were both black at this point.
We stood there at the edge of the Black Sea and imagined what we could not see, we a team who had not entered war, were not intimately involved in it, but who did skate on its outskirts. What did the depths of the Black Sea hold? Aniel said there could be Russian submarines in the ocean waters before us, perhaps with “eyes” trained specifically upon us.
But, the black of the evening did not preclude further events! Our huge, full, incredible day included a post-dolphin show dinner at the unearthly Clouds Restaurant back in the Odessa City Center. It was one of the most beautiful restaurants I have ever frequented, like a museum of clouds, up on the ninth (in America, 10th) floor of one of the historic buildings in the Odessa city center.
Pizza and salad had been preordered by Pastor Igor and there was a drink called a compote which was like fruit punch and quite delicious. We sat around a large round table, Aniel and Roma my seatmates on either side. (I loved sitting next to them and to Nastea because they so freely and patiently answered my myriad questions. The entire trip. Almost constantly. This was such a kindness to me because being Renate is a never-ending curiosity journey and if someone doesn’t mind my questions and teaching me, they’ll have lots of opportunities to do so! Apologies in advance if you are ever cornered by me and my inquiries - in consolation, it does mean I find you fascinating!) Nastea sat across the table from me and took a picture of me holding up my cartoon speech bubble plate!
The conversation was lively and varied. Aniel explained the harshness of winter in Romania. Snow sometimes literally buries Bucharest, the capitol, and no one moves. Snow plows, if there were any, which there are not, would be ineffectual for the snow is too high. He showed us some pictures of a city in forced hibernation, a city held siege by deep snow and ice. People do die in the cold, he said, and are not found for months, after the world thaws. And, yet, I know there are many like him, life savers, strong, merciful, who brave the elements and watch over and care for as many - especially the elders - as they can.
As we sat together and ate and chatted and laughed and spoke of Ukraine and the beauty of Odessa and our patients earlier and the dolphin-sea lion antics which we just witnessed and the Black Sea and the silent - yet no less violent and no less deadly to human and beast - wars currently fought beneath and on its surface, that gentle sadness from the morning returned to me. This moment in time, at yet our second Thanksgiving meal together that day, was bittersweet indeed, for war had brought us together. Because of war, I was in love: with people I would otherwise never meet, places I doubt I would ever go, experiences and tastes I would never otherwise have. And, soon, I would leave this historic and starkly lovely land and say good-bye to these strong and courageous people, leaving them to face their fate as winter and war loomed ever closer.
But, for now, beauty and friendship were with us still, very present. And very precious.
And, to underscore this, the lobby downstairs was aesthetically gorgeous. It was obvious that visual artists and designers were honored here. I loved it for the same reasons I loved the charming painted wall in our evaluation room in the Fontanka church that morning.
With artistic grace and charm, dignified and detailed and luxuriant architecture, myriad chocolate confections, musical excellence in the streets, tremendous continual generosity matched only by the humblest gratitude, brave and sustaining patients some of whom had cried but who quickly replaced their tears with reading glasses, solidifying friendships, delicious abundant food no matter what would be available tomorrow, dancing sea lions and dolphins, and even laughter, and LOTS of it, the day had been filled to the BRIM with LIFE. All of this, everything, was a shaking fist in the face of violence, the threat of death and loss, and a likely winter of untold hardship. With every smile, with every dish created and given to us, with every word of gratitude and every sigh of wonder or gasp of delight, with every prayer we prayed, with every one of the innumerable acts of love extended or received…we shook our fists.
Take THAT war!!!

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*https://uk.whales.org/2022/06/07/the-dophin-and-porpoise-casualties-of-the-war-in-ukraine
Just so beautiful. Touching. Your words stretch the heart.
Loving you and reading the beautiful experiences you have had. Thank-you for sharing so brilliantly.