Court Score: Women 3 Men 0

Boys with Kazak tie tacks to impress the judge.

From the very moment we set foot into the courthouse all eyes were on us. This is something we’ve grown accustomed to as we’ve spent the last three weeks as the center of attention everywhere we’ve gone. So much so, that the boys think it’s more like “show time” and they use it as a chance to perform their antics and exercise their outside voices. It’s become kind of a game to them. But today was different, very different.

Court is no place for children, and their games, but the boys insisted that they come along even if that meant sitting outside in the hallway. So there we were, all dressed up, sitting in the foyer while everyone else looked on. All at once, our regional coordinator burst through the doors, chatted with the guards on duty and motioned for us to follow. As we climbed stairs I could hear someone calling “muchina”, “Muchina”, “MUCHINA!” to be interpreted as Sir. I knew exactly what he was saying and exactly who he was speaking to; but feeling safe with Sholpan, (“touring the facility and taking up slack,”) I continued on, paying him no mind. Not to be ignored any longer the male guard made his presence known. In a quick exchange of Russian betwixt he and Sholpan, he was dispensed without further argument. I’ve watched Sholpan work over the past few weeks and this lady gets things done. She been very nice, helpful but deep down she’s all business, wielding her “machete to cut through red tape.” With the first hurdle of the day behind us, I had high hopes that the rest of the day would be dealt with as swiftly. Chalk that up as victory #1 for the women.

They call it court and surely it is. Complete with Judge and a Prosecutor, but it’s not as grandiose as we Americans are used to. It would be just as accurate to call it “ very large office." The Judge was a woman in her fifties, I guessed, draped in a long purplish robe. She had short black hair, with the “Cruella De Ville” blond patch on the left side of her head. She was very confident and in charge, but welcoming, although refusing entrance of the children. We entered her lair, the official Seal of Kazakhstan mounted proudly high on the wall behind her, and she proceeded to explain our rights. Through the interpreter I again expressed our desire to adopt the lovely children we had spent the past three weeks getting to know. I explained that the adoption was not new to us, as we had already adopted our middle son, and that we prepared to provide an atmosphere of opportunity for all of our children and so forth.

It is a common belief that court is a formality. If this is the case then someone forgot to give our Judge the memo. I was glad I felt strongly about our chances, as she got right down to business and had me wondering for a time. She was there, afterall, to represent the Republic of Kazakhstan, the children, and to her credit she had done her due diligence. Quickly she spotted an error in the paperwork and after chastising Sholpan, got right to work quizzing me on why I thought having more children was the way to happiness. “Do they pay money for kids in America?” she asked. “What makes you think you know how to raise girls?” “What happens when the girl’s background rears its ugly head?” “What about the parents who adopt children and kill them, 14 cases on record to date?” One after another the questions came and looking back I don’t think I did a very good job of answering. Finally, she’d had enough fun and told me to be seated. Make that victory #2 for women.

By order of the court Debbie rose to her feet, stated her name and purpose as the questions began. “Is your marriage stable?” “ Are you sure you have enough money to provide for the girls? “What about time? Girls take time and they need their mother, you know.” “Don’t you think three children are enough children?” It was non stop, like rapid fire from a machine gun. I was really proud of Debbie, she defended herself and mothers everywhere very well. By the time she as done, everyone in the roomed was touched, and people were wiping the tears from their eyes. Victory #3 for women. Benefactor, mankind.

The movers and shakers.

After our interrogation, the two social workers involved, both women, were both asked to state their opinion. Many kind words were said on our behalf, everyone amazed at how well bonding period has gone for both families from what they had seen and been told by the girls. At some point during the proceeding I’d glanced out the window across the road at the adjacent building and realized I was staring at the Dept of Education building. This would be the very same building where we’d stood 3 weeks ago explain to another woman of authority that we indeed had room in our hearts for two girls. For most of the trip I’ve been very in control of my emotions but right there in that courtroom I was on the verge of a serious meltdown. As I looked around, I realized that the room was full of seven successful women, myself and the translator excluded. I felt lucky to be there, beside my wife, sharing our personal feelings about the importance of family while they listened on.

All in the family.

After a short recess the entire family, boys included, were invited back into her office where the judge read her decision. Affirmative. She wished us luck and asked if we had any further questions. Now you know me, always one for a risk. “Just one,” I said, “Would you mind if we take a family photo with your highness?” She had a sense of humor after all.

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