That is to say, the plane started boarding late. Then, there was no orderly call to board by rows. No. There was one call in Russian, and everybody started fighting their way on board.
We helped Isabel as much as we could, but the safest thing for us to do was to wait for the biggest part of the crowd to go through. We then worked our way onto the plane. We worked our way to the very back of the plane.
Aeroflot assigns seats when you get your boarding tickets. Mary Beth and Isabel were there four hours early. They were seated comfortably over the wing. We arrived at the last minute and were sent to the back.
There, our overhead compartments were filled with the baggage belonging to the flight crew. The crew leader saw our delima and grabbed their bags. He threw them into the kitchen area of the plane. I have no idea what became of them.
Most of the Russian passengers just put coats and loose articles in the overhead containers. We stuffed our two heavy carry on bags. I think they knew something we didn't, about the possibility of those things overhead crashing down on people below. That didn't happen, but I was left with the impression that it could have.
The good news about being in the very back of the plane, I could lean far back and not disturb the person behind me. There was no person behind me. I bundled up my coat into a pillow and prepared to go to sleep.
I was awakened by take off. I watched the lights of New York City vanish as we slipped into the clouds.
I closed my eyes to go to sleep….
And was disturbed by the flight crew handing out..well… party favors. They gave us a little bag with slippers to go on our feet and blindfolds so we could sleep despite the lights, and little "Do Not Disturb" stickers. I don't know where we were supposed to stick those stickers. Cindy stuck one to my forehead, but that disturbed me so I removed it.
I covered my eyes and slipped on my slippers and prepared to go to sleep…
And was disturbed by the flight crew offering drinks. Wine was free. I took the opportunity for a last class of Coke with ice.
I closed my eyes to go to sleep…
And was disturbed by the flight crew offering food. They asked "Beef or Fish" I chose beef. The meal included Smoked Salmon as a side dish. If I would have taken the fish would it have had a side dish of spare ribs?
I closed my eyes to go to sleep…
And was disturbed by the flight crew offering head sets. The movie was about to start. From the back of the plane I wasn't going to see much, but I took them and waited. I assumed it would be a b-movie.
"The Last Samurai." I wanted to see that movie in December and missed it. This was great. The fact that I couldn't read the sub-titles, had the audio cut out at times, and was disturbed by disturbance in the battle scenes was not.
I turned to Cindy. She had aquired a set of earplugs for a Weird Al concert last year. She had them in and was sleeping. This 8.5 hour trip was now half over. My hoped for 8 hours of sleep would be at best, 4. I gave in and closed my eyes and went to sleep.
The plane began to land two hours later and I felt the difference in air pressure in my ears. I awoke as the sun shone throught he window. Looking down I saw Icebergs. The plane had flown a norther route. Land appeared shortly, which, while warmer than the frozen water, still looked closed.
We descended into Moscow. I was amazed by the color and growth of the city. There were hundreds of brightly colored large houses being built around the area. Their roofs were bright red and blue and green. Their fences were like strokes from a highlighter across a bleak grey ground. In a country beset by months of endless drab winter weather, I witnesses their colorful rebellion on many of the new houses they built.
Soon the plane touched down in Moscow…
and immediately took a sharp turn to the right, then straigtened itself out. Cindy grabbed my arm, almost breaking skin. It was the worst landing I had ever had.
As the roar of the engines in reverse filled the compartment, a second roar began. The passengers applauded the safe landing. I applauded too, since apparently the safety of the issue was in doubt.
We were not the last people off of the plane, but when we reached the top of the ramp we waited. Isabel was slow due to her injury. Five minutes passed, and female gaurds looked at us and whispered Russian to each other. I was a bit nervous. Finally they came up the ramp and we walked with them. The Moscow airport international terminal is built in such a way that arrivals walk along the outer edge of the building to the immigration and customs people in a dungeon below. There were plexiglass walls that seperated us from the glitz lights of the waiting area for outgoing flights. These were all empty. Everyone else who was on our plane had moved on. It was a bit eerie walking around the terminal alone.
Finally we came to the steps leading us down into the immigration dungeon. There we found our leisurely stroll did us no harm. The line for Passport Control stretched on. We helped Isabel down the steps and started our wait.
There were many a horror story I have heard about Russian customs. Theft, bribery, marking us rich westerners for later muggings, all were reported. Get one thing wrong on your paperwork and be prepared to end your days in a Siberian Gulag. Anything not declared at customs would be confiscated. All bull.
The real horrors were different. There were the majority of Russians filling the waiting line with cigarrette smoke, directly under the no-smoking signs. Sanyo presented a free TV showing the Fashion Channel for us to watch while we waited. This version of the Fashion Channel was, to put it politely, clothing optional. It was difficult to wait in that line and not watch the only thing of interest in the room. Yet if I watched it, Cindy would be upset. I tried looking at some of the regular adds plastered to the wall. They were not much better. I stared at the ceiling. Well, most of the time.
Finally, we got through the line. We gathered all of our bags onto one cart and headed to the dreaded Customs Line. Wait, a sign says if you don't have over $10,000 in cash, you can skip most of it. We didn't bring near that amount so we took the short cut. Then there was a line to get what we did take x-rayed. Another long wait.
Suddenly a pretty Russian guard looked at me and signaled me off to the side. Gulp. I followed. She undid a rope and puff. We were through. We were outside.
Cindy grabbed me and headed to the right, but I thought Left would be better. Sure enough, there was our CHI representative and our ride.
Anna met us there. I always thought Anna was French, but this Anna was a young Russian lady, direct and knowledgable, determined but with a large dose of tolerance for tired excited Americans. She took us to our van and helped us all, including Isabel, in.
The only argument was when she tried to help Isabel carry her luggage. Isabel refused the help quite verbally, but friendly.
Once in the van we drove to our Hotel, the Marriott. The growth and construction I had witnessed from the air was proven on the grounds. Everywhere there was traffic and building and growth. There was also a wave of capitalism, from the new mall and the giant Ikea store, to 2 McDonalds and the casino's popping up everywhere. It is amusing to see Cigarette ads next to "The People's Stadium". Its also a bit sad.
We did pass a great big Omni-Max theater presenting the Simpsons in 3-D. I wonder what is Russian of "Doh"?
We stopped on the way to the hotel to exchange currency. The Ruble is only good in Russia, so you can only exchange in there. At the airport and hotel rates were high. In a little jewelry shop two blocks from the hotel, it was good. We asked, how much? Anna suggested $300. That was a tenth of what we brought, so we exchanged $500 instead, figuring we would need it.
Next we checked into the Marriott, it was beautiful. They gave us a great room on the third floor. We have since found out why-they double billed us. As Cindy was finalizing the hotel info, Anna asked me for our last papers.
A spanish couple had adopted from Astrakhan a few months ago. When they took their child home they admitted that both of the couple were HIV positive. The child is destined to be an orphan again. To stop this from reoccuring, Astrakhan added HIV tests as a requirement for all parents. We had these done, and the forms all appropriately notarized etc, just days before our departure.
Anna asked us where they were. She needed to translate them to Russian before our trip to Astrakhan the next day. I pointed to our luggage, which the bellboy held. I went up to it and started searching. I couldn't find them in two of the bags. Cindy had locked the third bag. I reached for my keys.
My keys were gone.
I searched every pocket. Cindy came up and helped. She turned white. Did we leave thes mandatory papers at home? With out them could we continue? I made a quick excuse to Anna, who wanted to get home herself. She said she'd take them in the morning. We had an 11:00am meeting at CHI headquarters. She told us to be ready in the lobby at 10:30am. She also said there was one computer with free internet on the fourth floor.
We had our luggage taken up to our room. I ransacked my pockets to find an appropriate tip for the bell boy. I am sure a drastically undertipped him. I didn't care. My keys, our papers, our adoption was in jeopardy.
I told Cindy that I put my keys in one of the luggage bags pockets while going through security. We turned everything inside out, upside down, emptied almost everything. No keys.
I had an idea. I grabbed the locked suitcase and went to the front desk. I had the engineer come in and snip the zipper so that it could be unlocked. He seemed used to this request, and did it in such a way so that it appears unbroken.
I took the suitcase back to the room without opening it. If the papers were not in there, I wanted Cindy and me to see that at the same time. Holding my breath I took the elevator up to our room and we opened it.
There, right on top, were the papers we needed. I began breathing again, but not for long for suddenly I was in the middle of a great big hug. Excitedly, Cindy ran up to the fourth floor to use the computer and let everyone know we were safe.
I turned on the TV and relaxed. It was 4. We planned to meat Mary Beth and Isabel for dinner at 6. Moscow TV for English speakers was not much.
Cindy returned laughing. A man was on the computer when she got down there. Marybeth was there as well. After waiting a few minutes for the man to finish they moved closer and started talking louder, hoping to convince him to leave. He finally begged their indulgence as he had to get these last couple of emails out.
He turned out to have gone to highschool one class behind Cindy, both from the same small Missouri town of Washington. He knew Cindy's best friend Jesse. He and his wife were adopting as well.
We all met for dinner. I had the house special burger, Hamburger, Cheese, Bacon, and a fried egg. This was going to be a digestively daring week. We made plans to meet for breakfast and went back to our room. There we ended the night watching some very strange English Gameshows.
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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The pictures didn't quite work for me, that second link you posted, well the only picture is of a chow, and I am doubting you went to russia to adopt that, so I want to see sasha
Posts: 5362 | Registered: Apr 2004
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I fixed the first link. Its public so everyone should see the pictures now. I've even added one, but its sideways.
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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I awoke to the street lights highlighting our curtains at 5:00am. Cindy was tossing and turning herself, just now fading between awake and asleep. For over an hour I had tried to get back to sleep and I had failed. There were too many worries and questions. There was too much jet-lag. There was something.
Cindy recognized my movements and whispered, "Go use the computer."
What a great idea. No one would be there at this time of night. I got up and got dressed and went to the computer. The notes I sent included things I posted here and requests to family and friends to check with the St. Louis airport to find my keys.
Later I learned that a Whole Lot of keys get left behind daily.
After about an hour or two some more folks showed up so I left the computer and went beck to my room. Cindy was sleeping so I joined her. The alarm went off shortly after.
We got up and luxuriated in our giant bathroom. There was a steam pipe from the steam heat set up to be a towel warmer. The tub was large enough for both of us to get in and bathe together, but we didn't. We were too nervous. We got all cleaned up and met our friends for breakfast.
Isabel and MaryBeth were late.
Breakfast was fantastic, omelette's made to order, french toast, smoked salmon, fresh fruit, 10 different fruit juices, and all included with the room fee. I would miss these breakfasts.
Our other companions entertained us with the story of their first visit to Yakutz, where their hotel was taken over by heavilly armed body guards of the local "Sopranos" representative. Their son was having his 2nd birthday, so entertainers and fireworks were ordered, and guests were ordered to stay in their rooms and don't come out.
By 10:00 we were checking out. By 10:30 we were loading into the van. We drove through central Moscow to the small offices of CHI International. We had to show our passports to get into the building, then walked through it, through the back parking lot, to a back building, and took a dirty elevator up to the offices. The rooms reminded me of an old run down apartment building looking to be turned into a crackhouse.
Once inside the offices, things changed. The room was clean, well kept, and bright. Childrens toys and videos and books were everywhere. We were offered a seat and some tea and we waited.
The took our papers and started the translation.
Then we went into the bosses room for the final seminar. It was interesting. They showed a video about the Russian Medical Diagnoses. Much of Russian Medicine works on what I would describe as "Protect your butt" mentallity. They list every possible thing that might be wrong with a child, and keep it on their list until they can mark it off. So if the child might have TB, they list it as he does have TB until they can test and prove he doesn't. TB was a special note. The TB Innoculation, to prevent TB will make a child test positive for TB for a year after the innoculation. As such most kids have TB on their medical records, but with a note that it has cleared up. (They could perform more tests to verify that tell the difference between TB and the Innoculation, but those tests are $30 each instead of $5. They would rather spend the $25 per child on food or clothes).
We then had some free time to get on the net and get ready to go. They apologized that our schedule wouldn't allow for the promised "Tour of Moscow" that every person gets. We would get it, they said, when we returned from Astrakhan.
Then we were off to the fabulous "Moscow" airport, the local terminal. The in-country terminal was not as fancy or clean as the international terminal, but then the international terminal wasn't that fancy or clean to begin with.
We pushed our way through the first light security screening. Isabel had a pace maker. As such we had to tell the security folks she couldn't go through the metal detector. Anna helped.
We got in line for the major check when Anna started to get worried. She would not be flying with us to Astrakhan. We would have a facilitator, a talkative woman named Galina. Unfortunately she didn't speak any English. New interpreters would meet us in Astrakhan.
We waited and waited as the time for our departure drew near. Anna walked off to get better reception on her phone. As we waited we watched them shrink wrap luggage. It seems that the reputation of the Russian baggage handlers is so poor that people pay to have their luggage encased in plastic wrap as a way to protect it.
Finally Galina showed up. She was a bulldog of a woman, all serious as she strode up to us. She took command and pushed us through the line. When Anna informed her about Isabel's pace maker, she didn't look happy.
She rushed us to the ticket counter, and had us set our bags down on the mat. We had planned to carry most of ours on, but poof, off they went to the luggage bin. Then she helped Mary Beth and Isabel. Mary Beth kept her backpac and Isable kept her Diabetes kit out.
Next we had to go up two flights of stairs. Just as we reached the top they started the boarding call. Unfortunately Isabel was slower at climbing. To keep her sugar up Mary Beth decided to buy her a coke. She opened her backpack-her wallet was gone.
As people left the lounge for the debarkation area we tried calling around to find Mary Beth's wallet. Suddenly Mary Beth screamed. There it was, in a zippered pocket she normally never uses. With a sigh, and without the coke, we took off to the debarkation area.
Where we climbed down two more flights of stairs. Galina marched ahead of us with a quick military pace. Isabel brought up the rear as fast as she could. At the bottom of the steps was a hollowed out bus where people were cramming aboard, standing room only. Another female drill seargant was making sure the people got on the right bus and made room for others. Galina held a space for us. We got on the back and waited. Several people had one last cigarette, then they joined us. Finally the bus moved out and drove us to our plane. Isabel had trouble getting off, but finally we made it. Up the steps and into our seats.
For the first time we were no in the back of the plane. Indeed, Isabel and Mary Beth were a row behind us. As Isabel manuevered to sit down she rubbed my forehead for luck. The plane was small, filled with smokers and the ringing of cel phones.
The flight lasted two and a half hours. More smoked salmon. Then we found and landed in the smallest airport I have ever been too. They didn't land two planes a minute, but maybe 1 plane an hour, on a good day. There were wrecks of old helicopters along the runway, and 1960's era battline type radar sets up on the hill. It was not comforting. We landed and slowly climbed down the steps and into another bus to take us to the terminal.
The terminal had one room for arriving visitors, with a small conveyer belt for luggage. The walls were made of meter wide stone blocks with engraved Migs on them. Not a hot fashion décor.
Isabel was helped off the bus by a gentleman from Australia. She asked, and he volunteered to say Krikey. He would have been a great traveling companion, but he and his wife were here for business, as a group of Russian businessmen arrived to lead him away.
Here we were met by Veeka, our interpreter. She was a nice young lady with wonderful tails of Russian history and her Russo-Egyptian family. She was great. Galina was happy to have somone to talk to. We waited for our bags then made our way to a van to drive us to our hotel. The van stood tall of the ground. We all got in easilly except for Isabel.
Isabel tried to climb up into the van and fell backwards, sitting on the floor. Tired and sore, she said enough. Here she would sit. There was a slight argument, but Isabel is a bit stubborn. That's where she sat for the rest of the trip.
Veeka talked to us about great Russian literature and the writers who had come to Astrakhan. Thank heavens for Comparative Lit 101. Everyone else was lost. She talked to us about Astrakhan history, as a depot in the Silk Road and its ties with India, Iran, and almost everywhere else. We passed the beautiful Kremlin and a couple of pretty churches.
We passed two good hotels and went to a small dump along the river.
It was fishing season along the Volga, and every hotel room in town was taken, accept for this small b&b. We took our bags and climbed up the three flights of stairs. They still had the steam heat on, despite the 70 degree weather. Upstairs, the heat accumulated, melting us.
We didn't care. Our children were close. Barely over 12 hours away.
The sheets didn't cover the bed completely. The bathroom was off to the right, where the room angled down to meet the floor. As a result we would not be able to stand in the shower.
We didn't care. Our window opened to a great view of the Kremlin, and our kids were close by.
Galina told Veeka to tell us, be ready at 8:30am to go to the ministry and start the process. We smiled. We went down to Mary Beth and Isabel's room one floor below. It had a working airconditioner, and a shower one could stand in. Jealous we had Veeka tell the hotel our breakfast order and chatted for a couple hours.
As the jet lag and yawns caught up to us, we nervously went to bed.
Later, as we realized we wouldn't be able to sleep in the heat of this room despite the open window, we realized something. The hotel sucked.
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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Dan, I am so happy for you and Cindy...Sasha is a little cutie!!! What a blessing. I am tearing up reading all this.
Posts: 2711 | Registered: Mar 2004
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First, a side note. Those who have talked to us know that we are adopting a beautiful, intelligent boy, Alexander. The following couple of posts were done before we found him. They deal with our meeting and loving and losing a couple of other children.
Monday morning came slowly. Perhaps it was the cat in heat that screamed at us all night. Perhaps it was nerves. This was D-Day, or maybe K-Day. This was the day we were supposed to, planned to, geared ourselves to meet the children who would become our family.
My cell phone did not work overseas, but it had a nice alarm function. The room did not, but then it didn't have a lot of functions.
Cindy and I take turns being the first up each morning. It is just too difficult for two people to shower at the same time in one bathroom, well, too difficult to shower and not get distracted, but we won't go there.
I was too nervous to do math and just assumed it was my turn. I climbed into the tub and kneeled down and took the long shower head and gave myself the best shower I could from my knees. I even managed to get out of the tub without banging my head.
Earlier I had discovered another detriment to our fancy hotel. Did they have those brown paper towels in the bathrooms in your elementary school when you grew up? You know the ones, that were a grade above Super-Fine sandpaper, but not quite cardboard? They can still be found in some garage bathrooms and such.
This was the toilet paper they had.
I know we Americans are over used to quilted extra-absorbent, sweet smelling toilet tissues, so anything less would be considered an inconvience. This was not less, this was a torture device on a roll.
Cindy was up by the time I got out of the shower, also getting ready. She pulled out a bag from our luggage. Yes, she had backed a fabric carry bag in our luggage. She filled this with everything we would need when we saw the children. Cameras, teddy bears, candy and translator books all went into the bag.
We dressed nice, paced, tried the TV and discovered Russian Rap. Blue-eyed blonde guys with wicked hair getting jiggy with it in Russian just wasn't our thing. Watching Dora the Explorer in Russian was also not good.
We went down to breakfast. There our hosts were supposed to serve us scrambled eggs and bacon. That is what we ordered. We got lightly fried eggs with runny yolks, and an assortment of sliced luncheon meats. There was salami and bolognia on a nice serving tray.
Isabel slept on the couch, offering the big bed to Mary Beth so she could get needed rest. Unfortunately the mattress was so old and worn that the springs poked Mary Beth in the back all night. She finally got up and moved to an arm chair to sleep.
We didn't care. We complained, but with a smile. We were going to meet our kids.
All during breakfast, as she had before the flight from New York, and during every stop, Mary Beth passed around the picture of her son-to-be. He was a cute and chubby boy named Asalon. That's right, he was named similar to the Lion King from the Narnia books.
We had no pictures, no descriptions, no names. We were going in blind. We hoped that was because we were getting something special, or that it was for our own good. We still couldn't help but be jealous.
At 9:30 we left our hotel and met Galina and Veeka at the curb. They introduced us to Vera. Vera was a second translator. She was a good friend of Veeka's, but a bit more closed and quiet. We also had two cars waiting for us. Our drivers were interesting. The gentleman claimed to speak no English, and loved classical Russian music playing in the car. The woman was described to me as very butch. She was a bit squat, in jeans and a shirt, with short hair and driving nerves of steal. Her music was more modern, and louder.
Before leaving we addressed our bed concerns with Galina. She went off and yelled at the hotel. They promised a new mattress for Mary Beth before we got back.
We got in the car with the man and Galina. Mary Beth and Galina got into the car with Vera. We drove around town to the outside of The Kremlin. There we all got out, but Galina went to Mary Beth and had Vera translate-"Only family may come. Isabel stay."
During the seminar before, and during all the books and meetings, we were told that we would be given some help in preparing to meet the administrator. Here was our help.
Vera traslated for Galina. "They will ask you why you want to adopt. You know what you will answer, yes?"
We all stared at each other.
"Yes? They told you what to answer before right? Good. Come on."
Galina was off
We were confused.
We entered the government building and climbed four long flights of steps. This, and not any governmental regulations, was why Galina didn't want Isabel to join us. Galina didn't like people lagging behind.
We stood nervous outside the door. Galina had Vera ask, "Who first."
Mary Beth looked at Cindy. Cindy looked at Mary Beth. Both tried so hard to be polite. I could not stand it. "Come on," I said. "We'll be first."
We went into a small office covered with pictures of adopted kids and waited. The administrator came in. Again, Vera translated. "Why do you want to adopt kids from Russia?"
How do you put six months of self-examination and talk with your wife into a quick response. I would love to tell you that I pulled off my cuff some great soul rendering speech. Instead I'll tell the truth.
Mostly, I don't remember what I said. I mentioned my family history from Russia. I mentioned the search to find someone to bring into our family. Cindy helped, bringing in love and respect.
All I know is that after about a minute, or was it a year, of this rambling, the stearn faced beaurocrat smiled, and said OK.
She left the room and returned with a folder. They contained all the information we needed, or so they said.
Two twin boys, Alexi and Vladimir.
Prior to our trip we had asked everyone to give us names. We thought we would need to give our children new names to go with their new country. My father's name is Albert. For many years he was known as "Little Al" while a family friend, and later his boss, was "Big Al." I believe he always longed to be "Big Al" so our top male name was Alexander. Alexi was so close. This, I knew, was a sign that it was meant to be.
Veeka began to translate the medical history. She said words the TB to the Thyroid, Metal Delayed, Difficult in Teaching. Mother Drank.
I heard but discounted those phrases as yet more Russian Medical Overreaction. I was looking at their pictures. Such cute round faces.
There is a third, older brother, we were told. He is only seven. He could be adopted as well. Our house had no room for three. Our budget had no room for three. We declined.
We filled out paperwork and left the office. Mary Beth went in and we sat down with Vera. Filled with nervous energy I searched our baby bag and found some of my magic tricks. I wasted my engery practicing them, and poor Vera was surprised and impressed.
Ten minutes passed before Mary Beth came out. We shared photos then went down to the cars. Galina came over to us and said, "Stay here till I get back." She then drove off with Mary Beth and Isabel. We discovered later that they drove back to the hotel, where Mary Beth had to wait till the afternoon to see Asalon. Veeka went with them, and they went out shopping.
Galina returned and we went off to the orphanage to meet Alexi and Vlad. The orphanage was right on one of the main streets. There was a small courtyard to play in, but it was all stone and puddles. An old dog and an old car shared the space. We entered to the smell of cooking cabbage.
The place was cleaner than the administration office. We were sent into a large conference room, where toys filled a glass fronted cabinet. Several teachers and the administrator were waiting for us.
The administrator was a large woman, soft and round. She had a motherly smile, and a tone of voice that was professional and sincere. The teachers were also nurses. They gave us the medical history of the children. It was much more detailed than that given by the government.
It used words like Imbecile (in it archaic medical term) and Unteachable.
My heart froze.
The kids entered, and I fought hard to forget that phrase. They were so cute, and so small. They came to us after just a few moments of bashfulness. We gave them our toys and they played with them, as well as other things.
I pulled out my camera to take pictures, and they loved it. They grabbed it, and being male, started pressing all the buttons.
Then I watched as Alexi began tasting everything. He put everything up to his mouth and started sniffing and tasting it. Cindy turned white. She works with metally handicapped children, and this is something they all do.
I didn't notice, or tried not to. I put it down to orphanage syndrome or lack of stimuli. When the flash went off in his face and he seemed to enjoy it I smiled to. I wanted so much for this to be right, for them to be perfect.
Cindy had doubts. She wanted to come back that afternoon. I hoped to do some shopping, but why not.
We left. For the first time I noticed the weather and it was perfect. That was another sign.
We all met at a café for lunch. Vera and Veeka helped us order and we talked with Mary Beth and Isabel about the kids. The more Cindy talked, the more worried I became, and the more uncertain Isabel became. As a pediatric nurse her opinion mattered, yet she didn't want to unduly influence us.
I ordered a scruptious cake with lunch. It was a symphony of chocolates. As I bit into it Vera said, "Oh you like Drunk Cake." It packed more alcohol than I had enjoyed in a long while.
We went back to our hotel while Mary Beth and Isabel went to see Asalon. We took a nap until 3:30 when our ride and translator would arrive.
As we were getting ready to go I examined the ac. It Required a remote to work, but there was none in the room. It had a test mode that ran, so as we were leaving I set it on test and left.
Back to the Orphanage. They took us to a large "Music" room, filled with kids instruments, walls of mirrors for dancing help, and a big piano. The kids are brought in soon. It was great fun.
We laughed. We played. I chased them around the room. They were great.
Everytime Alexi was handed something new, he sniffed it and tasted it and Cindy blanched. They pounded on musical instruments. They said a few words in Russian. Vera was with us this time, though she sat back in the corner. She translated, but much of it was so garbled she couldn't tell.
It was a great couple of hours.
Vera had the medical transcripts translated. We looked them over. Mentaly Retarded, they said. Unteachable. These kids who were so cute, so involved?
We had been unable to find an Internet Café, and Veeka didn't quite understand what we meant. She took us afterword to a nearby Coffee Shop, where we met the rest of the group. I ordered another chocolate pastry. It was ripe with rum.
We convinced Veeka to take our medical report and e-mail it to our Pediatrician at home. Cindy frowned, his e-mail address was at home. Doh.
We asked if she could e-mail it to Cindy's mother, who would e-mail it to the doctor. She agreed. We went back to our dinner discussing the children.
Asalon was doing great, we were told. Digital pictures were passed around still in the cameras. Isabel did not smile too sincerely when she saw Alexi.
After dinner we went to a small grocery shop. The hotel did not have Coke, so we bought some, and some diet for Isabel. We also wanted to buy some water. Tap water in foreign countries contain all the germs native to that country. They can easilly upset the digestion of the visitor. Bottled water is best when traveling, even for brushing teeth and similar activities. We picked up two large bottles of mineral water.
While we were shopping Isabel was sitting in the car talking with the driver. He did n't speak much english, but Mary Beth was determined to get him to say something. She was discussing the terrible conditions the handicapped faced every day in Russia. There were no Handicapped accesible anythings. "How" she pantomined, "How does an older woman with a cane go into that store?" she asked pointing to a nearby door.
The Driver looked at her a bit confused? "You want to go there?" he asked. "That Beer House."
She was still laughing when we returned.
We spent more time in Mary Beth and Isabel's cooler room. Cindy kept asking about the kids. Finally I left for our room, to read and relax. The AC had done a fair job of cooling the room by then.
Cindy followed an hour or so later and we went to sleep.
About two am I rolled over and Cindy was wide awake.
"We have to talk" she said.
We did.
I tried so hard to reassure her the kids were OK. They would be fine. We would be fine. I admited that I liked them as kids, but hadn't gotten to the point of seeing myself as their father. She smiled.
We debated about changing there names or keeping Alexi and Vladimir.
We had an 8:30 breakfast to meet, and 7:30 alarm set, so after a few minutes we slipped back to sleep. Cindy says she slept better after that.
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Be glad that they at least had some kind of toilet paper! In Bulgaria, you can't count on finding some kind of toilet paper in the bathrooms....
What a heart-wrenching thing - playing with these cute little boys, while words like "imbecile" and "unteachable" dance in your heads.
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Is it gonna be much longer for the next installment? Is it? Is it? Huh, huh? Is it, Mr. Raven?
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While we slept others were busy. Vika (I know, I mispelled her name in the earlier posts) sent the doctor’s reports to Cindy’s mother, with a request that she pass them on to our pediatrician.
She read them.
She paniced. Its probably better to say that she was overly concerned about what she read, but I believe she paniced. She sent her worries to Cindy’s sister, and to her own doctor.
Barbara (Cindy’s sister) didn’t like what she read either. I think she contacted her doctor as well. Everyone but our doctor wrote back immiediately with their fears. Our doctor was out of the office when the e-mails arrived, and didn’t get a chance to even look it over until later that day. By then it was too late.
Vika was overwhelmed by the pages of responces she received. She printed them all out and rushed over to Galina.
Meanwhile, Cindy and I awoke to a new day. We had been told that Galina and one of the interpreters would pick either Cindy and me, or Mary Beth up at 9:30 and take us to an orphanage. She would then turn around and pick up the second one of us around 10. That meant breakfast for all of us at 8:30.
We got up at 7:30 and got ready again.
At 8:15 there came a knock on our door.
In a good mood I smiled and said “Come In” I was expecting Mary Beth. She wanted a picture from our window. We had a great view of the Kremlin.
Instead, in came Galina and Vika. Vika had a stack of papers in her hand. Galina started talking, say much more than Vika could translate.
“Here are your doctors reports. We did not know they were so bad. Alexi is not what we requested. You have good right to turn this down.”
We started looking over the e-mails. They had mistaken Barbaras 3 page email for our doctors. Cindy and I decided not to correct their mistake, and we did this together with out saying a word. Cindy poured over the letters, turning paler as she did. I was trying to follow Galina/Vika’s accounts.
“If you wish to turn them down, we need to do so now.”
Now?
“In order for us to look at their replacements, we need to go to the offices and fill out the paperwork. We need to do this now.”
My heart sank. The world went dim accept for the papers Cindy was handing to me. There were also fresh translations of what the orphanage doctors said. Alexi—Mental Retardation of the 2nd Degree. Vladimir—Mental Retardation of the 1st Degree. TB to the Lymph Glands.
Now?
“We need to talk about this.” I finally said.
“Yes, Yes. We understand. Please, go have breakfast. We will be back after for your decision.”
I had only known these two kids for maybe 4 hours. I now had 1 hour to give them up or promise my life to them.
“Why is it so hot in here?” Galina asked.
“The AC does not work.” I replied. Well, it did work, on test mode, but it couldn’t compete with the steam heat that poured up to the top floor.
She yelled to the lady cleaning rooms. The lady responded. “Use the remote” Vika said.
“There is no remote.” I had tried using the AC remote from Mary Beth’s room the night before, but it wouldn’t work on this machine.
Promises were made in Russian.
“Go” Vika said for Galina. “Go have breakfast. We will be back at 9:30.”
Numb, I walked down stairs to the dining room. The dining room was next to Mary Beth and Isabel’s room.
Isabel didn’t join us. Her blood sugar took a surprising jump into dangerous levels. She decided to spend the day laying down and coaxing the blood sugars to normal.
We stopped by their room and told them of our delima.
“What are you going to do?” they asked.
I did not know.
Our scrambled eggs were fried again. The tea was nice. The dishes were beautiful. Vika interrupted. “Vladimir is healthy, as is his older brother. You can adopt those two.” Divide up a pair of twins? Cindy and I agreed, with out saying a word, that we would not do that. I left the table and went upstairs to meditate on the decision.
I sat on the bed, closed my eyes, and got nowhere.
Cindy came up shortly after. We began to talk. I began to pace. I questioned everything. Logic said pass on the children. What did my heart say.
Why did I want to keep those children?
Was it my heart or was it the homesickness. Keeping the children was easy, predictable, the non-decision. Saying no was difficult.
I have mourned a lost child before, but I do not wish to get into that here. That was a child that I never met. Here were two children that had hugged me and smiled at me. To give them up, to loose them forever, hurt.
What are the five stages of mourning? Denial? I had been in denial since they first said “Imbecile”. Anger? The more I paced the angrier I became. I was mad at Astrakhan. I was mad at Galina. I was really pissed off at myself.
You know, I never once became mad at those kids.
A part of me asked, “If these kids were biologicaly yours, you would have to take what comes.” I realized that if these kids were biologically mine, Cindy wouldn’t have been drinking during the pregnancy. There would have been no drugs to mess up their developing brains. Prenatal care would have been our most urgent concern.
Alexi, Vladimir, part of me will always wonder what could have been. A part of me will miss you. But when we decided on adoption, we did not request male or female. We did not request a certain hair color or skin color or anything specific. All we asked for was children with no irreversible health problems. We did that for a reason. We do not think we can cope with that on a dailly basis.
We made our decision.
We went down stairs to Isabel’s cooler room and told her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She agreed with our diagnosis and most importantly, with our decision. She gave us all the medical facts we needed to prove we were doing the right thing.
It was 10:30 by now. Galina was supposed to be back. We went down to the street to wait for her.
By 11:15 it became clear she wasn’t coming for us, but giving us more time to decide. We had spent the 45 minutes watching the people of Astrkhan.
In the building next to the hotel, minor construction was going on. They had a large trash bin out front where they dumped junk. We watched as passing elderly used this trash bin as a resource for improving their lives. They picked through it and took whatever they could use.
The building at the corner was a school. A gym class went outside on this pretty spring day and began to run. I mentioned our hotel was on the river. It was actually on a canal, spanned by a walking bridge at the corner. The gym instructor walked about a quarter of a mile away from us, then had his teenage class run along the walkway by the canal, under the walking bridge, and down to the big bridge about a half mile further. They raced right in front of us.
I watched as one boy ducked out under the walking bridge and hid. I watched as one girl stopped at a tree in front of us, sat down and pulled out a cigarette. Ten minutes later I watched as the kids came racing back. The girl finished her cigarette and joined in, sprinting ahead of the leader. The boy under the bridge waited until his friend ran by and joined them.
It was good for a laugh, and I felt I needed a laugh.
I watched a raven fly around us. Was this an omen? Was it good or bad?
A small cloud blocked the sun and a sprinkly covered us. We went inside to wait.
About noon Galina and Vika returned. “What have you decided?”
“We are declining Alexi and Vladimir.”
“Good. We must go fill out paperwork. Come.”
We went down to the car. She stopped to tell them we would be back by 1 and have lunch. We all got in the car.
“Have you decided to take Vladimir and his brother? We can arrange to meet him…”
“No. We do not want to break up the twins.” This caused her to pause.
“Ok” she said. “We must go to the orphanage to sign the papers.” We went back to the orpahanage where Alexi and Vladimir were. As we got out of the car it started to rain. We had to go back to the room where we first met them. We met with the orphange leader again. She was very understanding. “Alexi would be difficult.” She said. “Have you considered Vladimir and his brother.”
“We do not want to break up the twins.”
“Oh, but we will have to send Alexi to a separate school anyway next year.”
Cindy looked at me. We agreed. “You can break them up. We will not,” Cindy said.
They had Cindy write out an official letter of rejection, twice. One for each child, putting each childs name in its place. Luckily for me, my handwriting is so bad that she had to do the writing.
It was still raining as we left. I wanted to stop and turn around and tell the administrator “Thanks” or show some appreciation of all the work she does for those children. Yet I could not. I did not trust myself to talk.
It was raining as we left. It was just a small shower on an otherwise beautiful day. It felt like tears running down my face. Perhaps it was.
We later learned that this orphanage was set aside for mentally challenged children.
We went to the hotel and ate lunch. I had ordered chicken with fried potatoes. I do not recall if it was good or bad. Mary Beth and Isabel chattered. They were off shopping and site seeing that afternoon. Could they get us anything? I went upstairs to sleep until our next meeting with the administration. Cindy followed shortly, my left-over chicke wrapped up in plastic.
Our room had a refrigerator. We stored our mineral water in there, along with a bottle of coke that kept me awake when I needed it. There was also a cheese sandwich from before we arrived. It remained untouched.
They came to our door early again. There was a problem.
“There are no more sibbling groups in Astrakhan. You can either adopt Vladimir and his brother, or you could adopt just one.”
This was not what we had planned. This was not the way it was supposed to work. In this big region, they had no other sibling groups? There were supposed to be alternatives in case we had to pass on the first ones. There were none. Anger was returning.
Galina saw that. “I will call CHI. We can make a special case for you, to adopt two non-related siblings.”
She pulled out her cell phone and started calling. Cindy and I were not happy. Raising two children who knew each other, loved each other, trusted each other was one thing. Raising two children who were as much strangers as we were was another.
A few minutes later Galina said, “OK. Lets go.”
Off we went to the administration building.
Up the four big flights of steps again.
Back into the office.
A quick conversation. Another offer for Vlad and his brother.
Two new folders were presented to us.
Alexander and Valenteen.
One of my favorite authors is Orson Scott Card. His most famous series is “Enders Game”. The hero is Ender Wiggins. His sweet, loving sister, the epitome of good hearted people, is Valentine. Having Alexander, the name we most wanted, and Valentin together gave me hope that this would work out.
We had time in the afternoon to see Valentin. We would see Alexander the following morning.
Valentine’s orphanage was far out of town. We crossed the Volga and passed an area the Vika said, “Is called Poverty Valley.” It held all the new wealthy homes.
A cow crossed the highway. Isn’t that good luck in India? I was looking for signs that this was going to be OK.
The orphanage was in an old abandoned factory, reworked to be a comfortable home for the kids. It was hot. They wanted to protect the children from the cold weather so they made it uncomfortably warm for the rest of us.
We went to see the Orphange head. She was a very blocky looking woman. She reminded me of bad computer graphics, or a cubist drawing.
She took us to the music room where the nurses came in and gave us Valentin’s history. It was much better than the twins. No TB. No mental disorders, though there was a comment. He had trouble paying attention, and was on medication to help with that.
They brought him in. He was much taller than the twins, with protruding ears and fast legs. He said hi to us then ran off to turn on the TV. When that wouldn’t come on and the VCR tape wouldn’t go in, he found they were unplugged. He asked to plug them in.
Vika and Galina had to go to the notary for our paperwork. “We’ll be back in half an hour.”
Valentin never stopped moving. He fell in love with Cindy’s purse. He asked us a thousand questions, but we had no one there to translate them for us. He played the piano, a nice rythmic set of notes, not like the random pounding of the twins. He never stopped moving, never staid long in one place.
Yet everything he pulled out, he put back up. I had trouble keeping him out of a curtained off junk closet. He liked the bubbles, but tried to drink them
He began a game where he took hula hoops off their rack in the wall and laid them out in a row on the floor. There followed some wooden sticks. What he was trying to do with all of that we will never know. The nurses called him in for dinner.
Two hours had passed, and we still didn’t have a translator. Now we were stuck alone in this music room, and had no ride back to our hotel.
A few boring minutes later Galina showed up with Vika. There was no apology for being so late.
Cindy had many misgivings about Valentin. He was ADD to say the least. He was bright and all the teachers loved him, but he was often in trouble for not paying attention. One teacher had put it, “If Valentin wants to do something, he will do it, eventually.”
Vika lived near our route back home. She asked Galina to be dropped off. Galina refused. Vika would be needed to translate our breakfast order at the hotel. As a result, Vika had to miss a class she was teaching. Vera was at the hotel, and did the translating anyway.
On the way back we had a herd of cows cross the main road in front of us.
We returned to the hotel. Vera was there with Mary Beth and Isador. They had gone shopping, and brought us Pizza. The hotel people were upset. They wanted to be paid in advance. We didn’t have the funds in Rubles. We put them off till the next day. It would have helped if they would have come up and cleaned our room. The only reason we had towels for the shower each day is Cindy saw where they stored them, and she took what was needed. Its not like they couldn’t get into our room when we were out. We discovered the keys to the rooms were all interchangeable.
We made plans for tomorrow and said good by to our Russian friends, and Galina. Mary Beth opened up a bag and pulled out two musical elephants. “Here” she said. “These are for your new children.”
It was great. We had given the only two stuffed animals we had brought to Alexi and Vlad. Now we had something to give the Valentin and Alexander. They were two very sweet people.
They pulled out the pizza. Isabel hardly ate any, trying to get her blood sugar back under control.
Cindy asked me to get something out of our bags.
It wasn’t the money for the hotel. We gave Mary Beth some dollars and asked her to exchange it for us the next day. We wouldn’t have time. She agreed. But the money stayed with us at all times.
It wasn’t the bubbles. We had made two bottles of bubbles for the kids. We gave the smaller bottle to Mary Beth. We fashioned blow hoops out of bread ties. It was a hit. Unfortunately we made it in an old water bottle, which was why Valentin mistook it for a sweet drink and kept trying to drink it in the hot orphanage.
There was something in our bags that Cindy wanted to show Mary Beth or Isabel. I was sent upstairs to get it. I searched our bags and found something else.
It was the sign I was looking for.
From this moment on, I knew things would get better.
They had to.
I ran downstairs where the Pizza Party was in full swing.
I was smiling way too big.
“What is it?” Cindy asked.
I handed her the thing I was sent for, but kept my other hand behind my back.
“Guess what I got?”
“More drunk chocolate?”
“Better.”
“What?”
I whipped my hand around front, and started jingling my lost car keys.
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Installment by installment (wiggling with excitement) . . . and here I thought pregnancy and L&D were anxiety ridden! Goes to show you!
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The following day was better. It was easier and less stressful and more fun. A remote for our AC showed up the night before, and the heater died. We slept comfortably. Unfortunately for Isabel and Mary Beth, they tried to fix the heat all night by banging on the pipes.
It wasn’t perfect. Cindy and I still had major concerns about Valentin. With no other kids with him we could not see how he reacted socially. With no translator when we saw him, we could not determine what his personality, and his views toward us, really were. With no translator we could not tell if he was intelligent or had mental problems.
Cindy has a very refined sense of Justice. She was mad at Astrakhan and everyone else for the problems they tried to sneak by us with Alexi and Vladimir. She feared they were trying something similar with Valentin and was determined not to be duped. I on the other hand did not want to throw away our whole trip, and wanted to accept whoever they had to offer.
We talked about all of this, in fact we talked as much as we ever had. We came to an agreement. I agreed not to settle for just anyone they offered us. She agreed to give anyone they offered a fair and unbiased opportunity.
We also discovered that mineral water tastes lousy. We had purchased two big bottles of it thinking it was plain bottled water. Since drinking tap water was possibly dangerous, this was going to be our main source of fluids. It was lousy.
Returning this to the store was more hassle than it was worth, so we decided to use it for other water needs. Imagine brushing your teeth with salty pop-rocks. Cindy did pack up a small bottle of this for possible emergencies before we headed out.
For breakfast we ordered something different. They kept pushing the porridge. I kept imagining gruel. I suggested Pancakes. They responded, “Yes. Do you want that with sturgeon eggs or with fruit.”
We went for the fruit.
What we got were Crepes wrapped around a mixture of what I believe was canned fruit, with sliced kiwi on the side.
We were going to see Alexander that morning. The good news was that he was in the same orphanage as Aslon, Mary Beth’s new boy. We all got to ride together. Isabel was feeling better, but Galina had Vika call. There was a shortage of vehicles. Galina said Isabel had to stay home. Isabel was not happy.
Isabel had a habit of asking all the important questions, and making sure we did the same. Cindy suggested that Galina didn’t want Isabel to ask any of those questions, or have us ask them. Galina kept repeating that we were running out of time to make up our minds. She reminded me of a used car saleswoman. Cindy was determined not to get a lemon. Cindy has a suspicious and crafty mind. That may be why I married her.
Today was also the day for Aslon’s independent medical check. We had the option of having an outside doctor check out the kids before we decided. Galina was against it. It was more work. It infringed on the time we had. It offered the risk of her losing a sale. (I swear I think she was on commission.) Mary Beth almost backed down, but we supported her, and Isabel refused to back down. Did I mention that Isabel and Galina were not chummy?
To save money on transport, or to ensure Isabel kept her nose out of Galina’s business, we took just one car, and just one interpreter with us. Galina and the second interpreter met us at the orphanage. This orphanage was cold.
Like our apartment, this orphanage’s heat went out. The result is we wished we had brought our jackets. The weather had turned a bit cooler as well, though it was sunny and bright.
This director was also a large woman, but she was muscle. There was a strength in her that brooked no back talk. She was all serious and official as she began telling us about Alexander.
We liked what we heard. There were some early food allergies, Chocolate and Egg Whites, that he should be over. There were other things. One comment that caught our attention was that he broke his leg about a year earlier. I asked “Which one?” I wanted to see if it affected his walk. The interpreter came back, “No, his hip.” “Oh” we said.
The director stood up shaking her head. She then proceeded to point. “Oh,” said Vika “She means he broke his left thigh.” By where this large woman was pointing at herself, the translation was unnecessary.
About this time they brought Alexander into the room. He sat on the couch as directed, while we were around a table. I waved to him. Shyly he waved back. The nurse who brought him in found a toy for him to play with. The toy was a cube with different shapes cut out of five sides. The sixth side had a flap that you could put a hand through and get the pieces out. Inside were pieces that fit the different shaped holes. Each side was a color that matched all the pieces that fit into that sides holes.
This was perfect. While we continued to listen to Alexander’s history we could watch him figure this puzzle out. It was a great IQ test. As we asked questions and listened to answers that I don’t remember anymore I watched him play. First, he found how to take all the pieces out easily. Then, one piece went right in. The second took longer. The third, well, he kept looking at the same four sides, spinning the box like a wheel. This piece need to go in the fifth side. He needed to trade axis. How long before he would figure that out?
We will never know.
Galina also was watching him play. Perhaps she just wanted him to make a better impression on us. Perhaps she just couldn’t stand him being unable to find the right spot. Perhaps the piece being where it didn’t belong was driving her crazy. She got up from the table and went over to him and politely showed him where it went. She was nice and pleasant, and ruined the IQ test.
It was about then that I started getting the urge to strangle the woman. That, however, would not look good on the review of our behavior with the children.
From here we went to the music room. This was a wonderful room with soft play area and a ball pool and a big piano. Alexander was confused. Apparently this wasn’t his time to be here. He was also a little sick. He was a bit sluggish and bashful. It didn’t take him long to warm up to Cindy however. He dug out toys and stacked and restacked them, putting them all up. He chased bubbles, but without moving too fast. He just was sooooo tired.
When Aslon came out Alexander went up to him and played. He enjoyed the company of other children. Aslon, however, wanted to claim everything as his.
There was only one down side. There are almost no men in the orphanage. This meant that Alexander didn’t know what to do with me. He kept his distance. He didn’t want me to pick him up or hold him. When I tried chasing him, he started to scream. (Cindy has the same reaction when I chase her, so I’m used to it.) This is to be expected.
Everyone says this is to be expected.
Galina said it. The teachers there said it. Everyone said it.
How come I was the only one to believe it.
The more he looked on me with suspicion the more determined everyone was for him to play with me. The more they pushed him at me the more his defenses went up and he stubbornly refused. It was so obvious. With in a few hours I could have gotten him to trust me and to play with me. They wouldn’t let me.
Galina got down on all fours and played horsey, with Vika holding Alexander on. They then told me to do the same. They picked him up and put him on my back and he started crying.
Patience and time and a slow caring approach was all it would take for Alexander to know me. That is what they all said. Yet they kept pushing him so hard they were driving him away. Images of me strangling Galina came back. They were very satisfying.
Galina sent Cindy, Mary Beth, Vika and I back to the hotel. She and Vera were staying to do some paperwork. As we pulled away from the orphanage I had only one question.
“What’s that?” Mary Beth asked.
“Who in their right mind would put an orphanage so close to a nuclear power plant.” I pointed to the tell tale towers of a nuclear power plant not two miles away.
“I wondered what those were,” said Mary Beth as she stared at the steam emitting towers.
We returned to the hotel for lunch. Cindy was happy. Alexander was just the type of child we were hoping for. We had another meeting with Valentin in the afternoon. With an interpreter we could determine if he was as well. The plan was to eat reheated leftovers. I begged off to catch some sleep. Despite the AC working, I still hadn’t slept well. My chicken went uneaten.
I don’t like stress.
They woke me at two for us to return to see Valentin. The ride was long. We discussed Vera’s job and her schooling.
Galina was with us. She suggested that perhaps, one child would be best. We ignored her.
We reentered the orphanage and discovered that it was still HOT. They sent us to the music room and Valentin entered shortly there after and headed straight for the TV. We asked a few more questions of the people in charge. We asked how he behaved with other kids. They said he was a leader, but lacked attention. They all loved him.
The previous afternoon he had fallen in love with Cindy’s purse. She had shown him what went where, including which pocket in her wallet in her purse is where she kept her change. Today Valentin found some change in the bottom of our camera bag. He took it to Cindy’s purse, opened it up, dug out her wallet, opened it up, and found the exact pocket where she kept her change, all from memory. He then put the money he found in that pocket.
Too bad it was my money.
He bounced around worse than the previous day, but at least this time Vera could translate most of what he was saying. The only time he stopped bouncing around was when he was at the piano. He spent twenty minutes trying to play it.
Finally it was time to go back to the hotel. He said good-bye in Russian, but was mostly in a hurry to get to dinner. We climbed back into the car and headed home. We didn’t talk much in the car. Galina suggested for the third time that maybe getting just one child would be best.
At the hotel we went up to our room and began talking. We had a lot of questions, and not sure who to ask them too. Originally we asked Vera and Vika to dinner, but both of them had to work that night. We knew we couldn’t ask them questions now. CHI had provided us with a Russian Mobile Phone in case of emergency. We used it to call Anna in Moscow.
We asked if we only adopted one child would we need to redo paperwork. She wanted to know why we were asking. Cindy explained our situation, which surprised her. There should have been more than one sibling group.
Cindy was hungry, but my appetite was missing. Tough decisions due that to me. She and Mary Beth decided to walk to the coffee house we were at the other day and get dinner. I decided to sleep. They took the phone in case Anna called us back.
I had just got interested in CSI in Russian when not five minutes later Cindy ran into the room. Mary Beth called. She didn’t sound pleased. She was on her way over with Vika. Cindy and I began talking seriously.
Valentin was a wonderful boy, but would require constant supervision. Alexander was just too close to perfect to pass up. If we got both of them, Valentin would require so much attention that we would basically have to short attention to Alexander.
“Dan,” Cindy asked. “Would you be happy if we just got Alexander now, and maybe came back for another child later, but not from this region.”
“Yes. Or we could go to India to get a little girl.”
Cindy smiled. She wants a little girl from India, but I am not sure if we can handle three children right now, financially or emotionally. “Are you sure.”
“I would be thrilled.” I said. And I will be.
Twenty minutes later Vika and Galina were at our door. They came in and Galina was demanding “Why did you call Anna. Why didn’t you call me?” We explained that we knew Vera and Vika were both busy. We explained that we didn’t know if Galina would have the answers we needed, but we were wrong and they told us she would have. We told her we had made up our mind.
She went from upset to delighted in a flash.
“We want Alexander. Valentin will make some couple very, very happy. But he is too much for us to handle with another child.”
“I understand.” Galina said in a smug way. “Two children are perhaps too much at once. Just get one for now.”
Tomorrow we would sign the papers and make it all official.
Surprisingly my appetite returned. After Vika and Galina left we went downstairs to share our decision with Mary Beth and Isabell. They were thrilled. Three of us headed out to the coffee shop. Isabell decided she would rather lay down.
We left the hotel turning right, as Cindy suggested. Cindy’s sense of direction is not the best. Mary Beth was sure we should turn left, but I agreed with Cindy. Surprisingly, we were right.
We walked three blocks along the canal, then four blocks up to the coffee shop. The weather was just a bit nippy, but otherwise perfect. We had a great time. None of us could speak Russian but we were determined to do our best ordering our food.
Cindy remembered which line on the menu was a Ham Sandwich, which was what I wanted. We then went to the phrase books and sought the Russian for Tuna. The waitress behind the counter walked around to help, but she spoke no English. Luckily the young man in front of us did speak some English. He volunteered to help us. He had a stutter which didn’t help the translation, but it all worked out. Mary Beth tried to pay for his dinner, but he was buying a business meal for half a dozen friends. Over all this is just another great story of the kindness of strangers.
I avoided the “Drunk Cake” that they had here. Instead I got a small non-descript chocolate pastry, basically a big chocolate ball. It had twice the alcohol as the Drunk Cake. I don’t remember much about the rest of that night. I wonder why?
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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Dan, Do you have all this in a Word document? When it is all over, and you are home, could you send it to us via attachment? I really want the whole story as one long story. Not hard to cut and paste, I know, and I would also be happy to put the whole story in one document for you, as long as I have it. What a sad, beautiful story. As much as I complain about things in our country, this is about the best thing i can think of to make me realize, once and for all, that I was lucky to be born here, and not anywhere else in the world. Liz
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This is a fantastic account, Dan, congratulations dude! I hope there's more of this story to come!
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Elizabeth, I am writing this in word and saving each day as a separate document. When its done I'll put it all together, fix some errors, and start looking for a publisher.
Of course I'll send you a copy too.
I plan on going to the point we get home, and maybe doing another one for our second trip. Let me know if the flight home info is a bit anti-climatic.
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Yes! Publication! I'm sure there are many hopeful adoptive parents (and just people in general who enjoy reading) who would appreciate this story.
I mean, *I* appreciate it.
I also appreciated the India story.
Maybe Dan could write more stories...and put them in a book of essays...
*dreams of becoming an editor so she can sign Dan into her stable of writers*
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Dan, I can’t even imagine having to make the heart wrenching decisions you and Cindy went through. And (please don’t take this as criticism of the choices you made) my heart aches for the kids you couldn’t take.
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posted
I was thinking the same thing, dkw, and it's not a crit of Dan and Cindy. To give all they have to a child, is such a huge responsibility, that to take on another difficult child at the same time would be too much. I applaud their decision to give Alexander all they have to give. I think it's a wise choice, and best for Alexander. And, it will be the best thing for that precious little one in India they will bring home later, Alexander will already be acclimated and they will be a solid family unit when they go to get his little sister.
It is so heartrending though, to think about all those other children, that won't get Dans and Cindys. Posts: 14428 | Registered: Aug 2001
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posted
Sorry I haven't updated with the best day yet, but I am fighting a nasty sore throat. All I want to do is sleep, and I have to be at work today.
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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because these were the most difficult decisions I have ever made,
because I do not ever want to forget what and why these things happened.
It is not nearly as important that somebody reads this, or that somebody buys these memoirs. It is mostly important that I put them down solidly before the fog of time taints them.
The fact that so many of you, who's opinions I respect, have read them, enjoy them, and seem to agree with my decisions is a bonus.
because these were the most difficult decisions I have ever made,
because I do not ever want to forget what and why these things happened.
Dan - I think this is why your account is touching so many of us. It is not just because the facts are heart renching - and they are. It is not just because you write well - which you do. But rather the importance, the desparation and the emotion all come through.
Reading your accounts makes each of us realise that you are going through fundamentally life changing events. You are making decisions now that will change the way your life goes. You recognise the enormity of this, the responsibility and the signifigance. And through your written records, we see that also.
And I, as I think everyone else is, am honoured and thankful to be able to see that. You may be just writing this for yourself, but you are also impacting on a lot of other people.
What aahrd decision, but I know Sasha will benefit. I know if you keep telling your story, you increase the chance that more of those kids will get wonderful parents like you.
posted
We awoke to the alarm, and the sound of Cindy's cell phone announcing a message. Cindy has friends all over the world, so she has international calling on her cell phone. I don't need that expense, so my Cell phone was used as a watch and alarm clock. Cindy discovered that cell phone calls from Astrakhan were about $5.00 per minute. That was a bit more than we wanted to pay to keep everyone informed. Text messaging, however, was perfect.
So Cindy had taught her mother how to text message us. As a result we usually awoke to three or four messages from her, all of them supportive and helpful. Last night I had told Cindy to let her know what our decision is.
Cindy typed in: "We are getting Alexander, and Indian Girl later."
I warned her that was a mistake.
Cindy's mother had a message waiting for us when we woke. "Congratulations. When do you leave for India?"
This was followed a moment later by a second text message:
"Happy Anniversary!"
Cindy gave me a big kiss and repeated the message. I did some mental calculations. April 22, 2004—our 15th wedding anniversay.
Today was the day we were going to sign our papers for Alexander. What could be a better gift?
We brushed our teeth with the yucky fizzy mineral water, and went down for breakfast. Crepes/Pancakes again. Yummy. This time we asked for sausages. What showed up on the table looked more like hot- dogs. They even tasted like hot dogs.
We told Mary Beth and Isabel about our anniversary. They were thrilled. They even made a couple of comments about me giving Cindy an anniversary sausage. We have no idea what they were refering too.
When Vera and Galina showed up we paid our hotel bill, and asked for reciepts. They had to food bill totally screwed up. We spent half an hour fighting that mess (who ordered the freaking garnish?) then we were off to see the kids. Even Isabell got to come along.
We arrived at the orphanage and waited.
Soon Aslon and Alexander arrived. Aslon ran straight to Mary Beth. Alexander tried to leave. He wasn't feeling good and wanted to go lay down. Cindy and he got along fine, and he even let me hand him a few things. However, he would not come to me, and if I chased him, he would cry.
Again the nurses and teachers tried to force him to sit on my lap and hold me. I knew that time will allow him to know and trust me, they told me time would allow him to know and trust me. Still they pushed, and by pushing, were scarying him away.
His nose was like a running faucet. Although he at first appreciated Cindy's attention, her continual wiping of his nose was driving him to distraction.
Cindy complained that he had a fever and needed some slight medical attention. He just looked so tired and irritable (somewhat like me on the flight home, but that's another story). The nurses finally came and took him away.
Aslon also was taken away. We sat around the music room awaiting their return. There were a couple of other parents in there with us, holding real babies. They were under 18 months, and as cute as buttons.
Talking with these mothers to be we discovered that the other hotels were much better. They had English speaking staff, airconditioning that worked, and breakfast was included with the room. One was full of fishermen. The other had been closed for a few days earlier in the week due to court litigation. It seems that a partnership of Astrakhanian investors and foreign investors had built the hotel. They now broke up the partnership and were legally wrangling for the best terms. The Astrakhan's got to keep the hotel.
A teacher came in and talked to Vika. She came over to us. "It is time for the kids to go outside and play. Would you like to join them?"
We quickly agreed. Mary Beth also joined us. Isabell looked at the steps to be climbed down into the play area and decided it was best for her to rest here.
This was a great day, but I don't guarantee it was tearless.
We stepped outside to visit with the kids. There entire class was outside playing on the seesaw and sand boxes. Sasha was still nervous of me, and tired of momma wiping his nose, so he tried to hide, concentrating on digging dirt in the sand boxes. The teachers tried to make him pay attention to me.
I had another problem.
Although Sasha was shy of me, many of the other kids were not. They came swarming up to me. Cindy was busy with Sasha, but I was free. Hands came out to touch me, to hold on to me. A chorus of "pappa?"s came out.
One young girl decided to keep me. She was older, perhaps seven or maybe eight. She grabbed my hand, searched for my eyes with hers, and did not want to let go.
I was trying to bond with my soon-to-be son. To do this I had to set this girl aside. Her blue eyes and blonder pig tails were pleading with me to take her home. I did my best to ignore her. I am not proud of that.
The kids didn't realize that Vika was our translator. She too was swamped by children looking for a mother. She almost broke down when they kept calling her momma.
One of the teachers was helping the kids on the see-saw. Sasha was on one side with one or two others. Three or four were on the other side. I stooped down and helped them. While I was doing that, this sweet girl picked a wild flower and gave it to me. I put it in my pocket.
The kids got tired of the see-saw. Mary Beth had Aslon off by himself, swinging him around. The kids saw that and ran to her shouting "Me next. Me" Aslon determinedly told them, "No!"
Being two and a half, the other kids did not obey.
One of the teachers decided to help by leading some of the kids away from Mary Beth and over to the slide. Cindy went over with Alexander and helped him and other kids slide down. Alexander was a slow climber. The teacher got called away, so I took her place helping kids slide down the slide.
The sweet little girl went down twice before Alexander got to go once. He let me grab him and help him slide down the slide. At the end I slid him back up the slide, and let him slide down again.
He smiled.
He ran back and started up again.
After the second time he ran off to the other end of the playground. Cindy chased after him. I went to join, but there was a line of six kids waiting to go down the slide, and they needed adult supervision.
By the time I finished with them it was time to round up the kids for lunch. Sasha helped put all the toys away, and he appreciated when I pointed out where one or two were hiding, so he could beat the other kids to them. He ran from Cindy when she tried to lead him away, but that was because she was heading in the wrong direction. Lunch was to the right, not back the way we came.
We waved goodbye, but the kids were not to interested. It was lunch time.
Although the little girl did look back longingly. I learned as we were leaving that she had a problem with one of her legs. That it was very unlikely that she would be adopted because of it.
Vika was almost in tears as we left. She wasn't the only one.
You may have noticed that except for this girl with a bad leg, all the children we were looking at were boys. There is a predominance of boys in this region. When asked about it, the answer we got was interesting. All the doctors, judges, administrators that we met were female. Is Astrakhan an Amazon Kingdom? No. But in a country with almost universal sexual equality, a girl is as good as a boy. However, when you add mandatory draft of all males into the army, then a boy is someone you may loose when they grow up.
So if you are looking to adopt a little boy, try Russia. If you are looking for a little girl, go to China.
Then we headed back to the hotel with Vera. Galina stayed behind to do some paperwork. Speaking of paperwork, while we did some while waiting for the kids to go outside, there was more.
Galina had a plan. We would go back and have lunch. Then Vika would take Cindy and me toy shopping. If we bribed Alexander with new toys, he'd like us better.
I didn't think much of the plan, but this would be the first time we got to go shopping for our son. I was all up for that.
We went back to the hotel for lunch. We brought out own drinks, diet coke for Mary Beth and Isabel. Coke for me. Water—non-fizzy for Cindy. We asked them to reheat my chicken from the previous day.
They did.
And they brought us another one. My appetite was returning so Cindy had my used chicken and I had her new one. It wasn't worth argueing with them.
We then prepared to go shopping.
Around two Vika arrived. She took Cindy and me. There is a small toy store not far from the Kremlin. It is no "Toys-Are-Us" warehouse, but it had a nice collection of things. Vera wanted us to get him a puzzle. She fell in love with a couple of 500 piece puzzles. They seemed a bit old for Sasha, as he isn't yet four. We got him a wooden puzzle of numbers, and some large leggos, and some play dough.
We returned to the hotel to wait for Vera and Galina and our chance to see the kids again. We played with the toys—just to test them out.
Around 3:00 they arrived, with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. There were white roses and a large assortment of other beautiful things. There was even chocolate. This was our anniversary gift from them.
Pictures were taken.
Then, the formal papers were signed.
One aggravating note. We had to sign a form declining the opportunity to adopt Valentin. This is the same note we had to sign for Alexi and Vladimir, but for them, we had to go back to the orphanage to sign. For Valentin we did not. Why? Was the trip to the orphanage just one big guilt trip?
It was official. What name did we want? Alexander Matthew Davis.
We grabbed our bag of toys and headed back to the orphanage.
We came prepared to give him toys. The disturbed his snack time. He had a snack bar in one hand and a toy cell phone. I almost bought him a toy cell phone.
Everybody has cell phones in Russia. While driving in Russia in a car out of the 1950's, a caliphony of music filled our ears as the translators' phones, Galina's phone, and the driver's phone would each go off in turn.
And each of their phones were sharper, more featured, and cooler than mine.
I have mobile envy.
Anyway I was in a jam. I was ready to bribe Sasha as they suggested, with the musical elephant Mary Beth and Isabel bought us, but Sasha didn't have a free hand to take it. Eventually he set down his nutrition bar (they don't do candy) and ignored the elephant. He loved the puzzle. He enjoyed the car I made out of the leggos. Whenever they left us alone, he would start to warm up to me.
Cindy finally gave him a candy braclet. He wasn't sure what to do with it.
He worked his way over to the window to see what the other kids were doing. It was cooler there, and he was under about four layers of clothes. He started to perk up.
Soon he had broken the string on the candy bracelet, and the candies poured into his hand.
I got close and handed one that had fallen on his pants to him. He looked at me strangely. Slowly he took a candy and gave it to me.
"Spaceva" I said. That is spelled wrong. Imagine Placebo, but with S's in the wrong places. This is Russian for "Thank You."
He smiled at me.
He handed me another one. "Spaceva".
Within minutes I had all his candy, and a smile. I knew given time away from the pressures of the orphanage, getting him to love me would be like, well, I have to say it, like taking candy from a baby.
Just as we were getting along real well it was time to go. Dinner was waiting for him.
Earlier Cindy had picked him up and spun him around and he loved it. When I had tried he paniced. Now, he gave me a big hug as he was leaving, and I picked him up and spun. He cried in delight.
I was mistaken earlier. The paperwork was fine. That squeal of laughter, however, was the best anniversary present I could ever get.
And Cindy caught it all on tape.
Dinner was waiting for us too. We loaded up into the cars and went back to the Hotel. After Galina left we asked Vera and Vika to dinner. We tried the previous night but they were busy. This night the agreed.
Where to go? We had no car.
There is a great Italian restaurant. We just had to get into a cab. Picture this, me and two young pretty female interpreters, my wife, and another young lady – Mary Beth, all squeezed into one small taxi.
It took hours for me to get the smile off of my face.
Isabell didn't want to go. Whether it was really her diabetes, or the fear that her slow walk would hinder our good times, I do not know. She did ask us to bring her some soup and whatever else looked good.
We walked to the corner and grabbed a taxi. They realized that on the trip home it would be better to have the largest person sit up front with the driver. Unfortunately that was me. Oh well.
There is an amusement park between the Orphanage and the Hotel. Yes, it is somewhat close to the Nuclear Power Plant as well. It has big inflatable slides and moonbounces, things I deal with at work every day.
Just across the street from this place of amusement, where we will bring Alexander next time, is this nice Italian Restaurant.
They even have menu's in English.
They had a Pizza Oven and a grill right next to the tables. We had a good meal and a great time. Mary Beth and I had "Grilled Pork Rib With Meat" which turned out to be a thick cut porkchop. We even got Isabel what she wanted, except they had no containers to hold soup.
It cost us 50 rubles for the taxi ride there. We piled into a taxi and headed back to the hotel. This driver knew short cuts, though I started to fear he was taking us all to some dark alley where his friends could rob us blind. Still, five to one, we could hold our own.
As we drove through the darkened back streets of Astrakhan, this drivers radio was blaring out "You've got a duty, to shake that booty, but don't tell his wife." You wonder why the world has problems with American culture?
We invited the interpreters in. They placed our food order for Friday. We would have breakfast and lunch, but then have to leave for a plane ride home. We also had only two more visits with Alexander before we had to go. We ordered just Rice for lunch. Breakfast would be the usual, but I ordered an Omelette. After the big dinner, I knew my appetite was coming back.
Vika is working on her PHD. She gave us a survey to fill out and hand her the next day. We went upstairs and looked it over. "Describe some person who behaved in a manner you would call "Cool" in a movie or book.
I wrote a few quick notes then headed off to bed. Cindy wrote pages then also started to sleep. It was the best anniversary for both of us.
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posted
While Hatrack was down, all I could think about was that I might be missing the latest chapter of this story. I even thought about trying to get your email, Dan, and get you to send it to me!
Glad to see it's back. I couldn't even place it on a map, but I'm starting to feel like I've been to Astrakhan. I can't wait to read about you bringing Sasha home! Posts: 2220 | Registered: Jun 1999
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Neither can I. But we can't, yet. We are waiting to go back and get him. @#$@#$@# Paperwork.
I have been sick, and today's headache makes me doubt I'll get another story segment out.
However, there were two Sasha momemnts that I inadvertently left out of the previous posts. I thought you might find them amusing.
The first day we were there Sasha wasn't feeling good. He went up to the book of stuff we brought, pulled out a book, and went into the corner and pretended to read it.
Sasha is too young to read.
Sasha knows know English.
But hey, that was exactly what I do when I'm not feeling well. (where do you think I've been instead of writing all this?)
Later he took the book over to the piano and opened it up, as if it were a music book. He then began playing on the piano. Oh, he is no musical prodigy. He didn't play any song, but he did strike the keys one at a time and with rythym.
Then he stopped, turned the page in his book, and started again.
Finally, the day when we arrived, he was holding that toy cell phone. Looking for some way of playing with him, I ran to our bag and pulled out my cell phone. I then hit a button that made a ringing noise.
Whenever any musical notes came from a cell phone, Sasha would notice. I then put the phone to my ear and said "Allo Sasha."
He looked at me as if saying, "What is this nutcase doing?"
"Allo Sasha." I then pointed to his phone. He put it in his ear and said "Allo."
Unfortunately, at this point I was out of Russian words to say.
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posted
Dan, I hadn't read any of the chapters about the twins and Valentin. My heart goes out to you and them. What a tough choice. On Valentin, is there a chance he will be adopted locally? Learning a new language would be tough for him. I'm so happy for you and Cindy and Sasha.
When my own children are older, I hope to adopt some with special needs. But having thought it through, I can very much sympathize with your concerns over your marriage and your other child in such an undertaking. I can't promise we will ever do that, since my husband would have to want that as well.
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