Olia working on the princess picture.
Yulia jumping rope in her classroom.
Kola eating a really good meal at the Regional Boarding School 
"Princessas" by Yulia(left) and Olia(right) The Regional Boarding School (RBS), as it officially named, is a state funded institution and is home to as many as 200 orphanages, ages 8-18, at any given time. The number of children ebbs and flows as birthdays, adoptions, and other situations create vacancies. Ironically enough, only 10% of the orphaned children living there at any one time are cleared for the adoption process. A few remaining children, through a process of time and many unfortunate circumstances, will become available but most, for various reasons, will remain off the adoption registry their entire stay at the facility.
My false expectation of this fortress we reinforced the moment I laid eyes on the four story brick building and further confirmed when the grand wooden entry doors creaked, groaned and eventually slammed loudly behind us as entered.
Three trips to the facility have come and gone and to my discovery what the RBS really becomes is a cross between a well oiled machine and a masterpiece of humanity, with adults from the outside acting as Caregivers (Mother and Father) over a family of 20 boys and girls. They live, eat, and act as complete families equipped with bedrooms, a family room, study area, computer and closets. Some of the highlights for the children are the family activities they periodically are able to participate in (Olia’s family will be attending the circus this evening). Staffed with full time cooks, teachers, hairstylists, a social worker, medical staff, and administrators its halls are a constant buzz of activity. The children attend class as many as 6 days week, have extracurricular activity options such as music after school, and spend the summer at an off-sight camp. This, I am told, is the highlight of the year. The children have jobs and chores both inside and out. The older of which I witnessed painting window panes, scrubbing stairs and floors, and keeping everything ship shape. And for as old as the building appears to be on the outside the inside is remarkably tidy and clean with fresh paint lining the walls of the two classrooms we have entered. It does, however, have a unfamiliar smell. Not the un-disinfected smell I had anticipated like the childrens nursery at the local church. But a smell, I imagine, that is created when parents love themselves more than their children. Outside the grounds are large and spacious with gardens flowers, and although not very nice they have play equipment, soccer field, basketball court, green house, laundry facility, garage for repairs on the dilapidated bus, and a pig pen. Yes, they raise pigs for what purpose I was unable to discover.
Speaking of pigs, one of my main concerns was the food situation. Did they get enough? How was the quality? We’ve all heard the horror stories. Luckily yesterday, shortly after our visit started, Yulia announced it was “snack” time and because my curiosity has no bounds I asked if I could follow her. Well follow I tried as she promptly left me behind racing down the marble corridors and vanished out of site. When I found her she was already bellied up the table with 5 or 6 other children hurriedly eating her “snack”. I am certain she had to be mistaken about snack time because what was laid before me was as serious mid day meal. Chicken noodle soup, mashed squash, a huge meatball, bread of several sorts and juice. I sat at the table and quickly struck up light table conversion with my non English speaking companions. As we attempted to chat, I realized that the soup they were eating looked really, really good. Now, I had just recently eaten and wasn’t necessarily hungry, but wow, what did a guy have to do to get a bowl of that soup. Of course, they offered and I declined until, bless his soul, a younger boy presented me with hot steaming bowl of my own. No fight was made on my behalf and as I lifted the spoon in eager anticipation my taste buds were met with a wonderful surprise. Absolutely. Delicious. Yulia was cruising through her meal, scrapping the leftovers into the appropriate bowl for future use perhaps while I was savoring every bite. I think she may have even rolled her eyes when she realized I was holding up her life. Gratefully, she has yet to realize what she is dealing with me as her father and “Come hell or high water” I wasn’t leaving until every last drop was removed from the bowl and placed in my stomach. Luckily she acquiesced and made herself useful shooting 1 megabyte digital pictures of the all the children as I finished what may have been the best soup of my life. I’m still not happy about 1 megabyte pictures but it was worth the trade!
My false expectation of this fortress we reinforced the moment I laid eyes on the four story brick building and further confirmed when the grand wooden entry doors creaked, groaned and eventually slammed loudly behind us as entered.
Three trips to the facility have come and gone and to my discovery what the RBS really becomes is a cross between a well oiled machine and a masterpiece of humanity, with adults from the outside acting as Caregivers (Mother and Father) over a family of 20 boys and girls. They live, eat, and act as complete families equipped with bedrooms, a family room, study area, computer and closets. Some of the highlights for the children are the family activities they periodically are able to participate in (Olia’s family will be attending the circus this evening). Staffed with full time cooks, teachers, hairstylists, a social worker, medical staff, and administrators its halls are a constant buzz of activity. The children attend class as many as 6 days week, have extracurricular activity options such as music after school, and spend the summer at an off-sight camp. This, I am told, is the highlight of the year. The children have jobs and chores both inside and out. The older of which I witnessed painting window panes, scrubbing stairs and floors, and keeping everything ship shape. And for as old as the building appears to be on the outside the inside is remarkably tidy and clean with fresh paint lining the walls of the two classrooms we have entered. It does, however, have a unfamiliar smell. Not the un-disinfected smell I had anticipated like the childrens nursery at the local church. But a smell, I imagine, that is created when parents love themselves more than their children. Outside the grounds are large and spacious with gardens flowers, and although not very nice they have play equipment, soccer field, basketball court, green house, laundry facility, garage for repairs on the dilapidated bus, and a pig pen. Yes, they raise pigs for what purpose I was unable to discover.
Speaking of pigs, one of my main concerns was the food situation. Did they get enough? How was the quality? We’ve all heard the horror stories. Luckily yesterday, shortly after our visit started, Yulia announced it was “snack” time and because my curiosity has no bounds I asked if I could follow her. Well follow I tried as she promptly left me behind racing down the marble corridors and vanished out of site. When I found her she was already bellied up the table with 5 or 6 other children hurriedly eating her “snack”. I am certain she had to be mistaken about snack time because what was laid before me was as serious mid day meal. Chicken noodle soup, mashed squash, a huge meatball, bread of several sorts and juice. I sat at the table and quickly struck up light table conversion with my non English speaking companions. As we attempted to chat, I realized that the soup they were eating looked really, really good. Now, I had just recently eaten and wasn’t necessarily hungry, but wow, what did a guy have to do to get a bowl of that soup. Of course, they offered and I declined until, bless his soul, a younger boy presented me with hot steaming bowl of my own. No fight was made on my behalf and as I lifted the spoon in eager anticipation my taste buds were met with a wonderful surprise. Absolutely. Delicious. Yulia was cruising through her meal, scrapping the leftovers into the appropriate bowl for future use perhaps while I was savoring every bite. I think she may have even rolled her eyes when she realized I was holding up her life. Gratefully, she has yet to realize what she is dealing with me as her father and “Come hell or high water” I wasn’t leaving until every last drop was removed from the bowl and placed in my stomach. Luckily she acquiesced and made herself useful shooting 1 megabyte digital pictures of the all the children as I finished what may have been the best soup of my life. I’m still not happy about 1 megabyte pictures but it was worth the trade!
Snack Time with YuliaWe had another great visit that included a very detailed conversation with Yulia’s teacher about her abilities. Yulia read beautifully from Tom Sawyer (in Russian of course) drew a beautiful “Princessa” (Debbie’s favorite Subject) and showed her athletic ability by jumping rope, a gift we had brought for the girls. It was then had a stark realization. Olia and I have been staring into each others eyes every since we received the picture of her and to me she has been a part of the family for weeks now. Yulia, on the other hand, is all brand new. It’s only been three days since I first saw her and I find myself just staring at times trying to soak in who she really is. “Do I know you?” I keep asking myself, “You are so familiar to me.” She does have many features that resemble Cade and Janse; a seemingly perfect fit from an outsider’s perspective. But it seemed there was something more, something I was missing, and the moment she showed her true colors by jumping rope like it really mattered I knew exactly what I was dealing with. Debbie. My Debbie, whom I have picture of when she was 9 years old sitting on my dresser. I have stared at that picture for years wondering what it would be like to have known her as a child. Ladies and Gentleman we have a very driven, talented, and beautiful young lady who every day will remind me of what is like to live in the same house with my lovely wife.
Of course, all "earthly" good things come to an end and we gathered together to say our goodbyes. Yulia embraced me with a huge bear hug and gave me a kiss on the lips. I looked at her I without even thinking said, I love you Yulia and, in all honesty, I think she understood. Finally, as if it couldn’t get any sweeter, we were informed that tomorrow the girls received permission to come to our hotel and meet the boys.
This is only getting better!
guy
Of course, all "earthly" good things come to an end and we gathered together to say our goodbyes. Yulia embraced me with a huge bear hug and gave me a kiss on the lips. I looked at her I without even thinking said, I love you Yulia and, in all honesty, I think she understood. Finally, as if it couldn’t get any sweeter, we were informed that tomorrow the girls received permission to come to our hotel and meet the boys.
This is only getting better!
guy
3 comments:
Oh my, your girls are gorgeous! They look just like their mom!!
Your blog entries take us back to our adoptions in 2004 and 2006... We have a beautiful Yulia, too :)
Robin St. George
Ditto-Ditto-Ditto
I don't believe that anyone has ever looked happier than Debbie and Olia! (Unless it's all the kids together).
Give the kids all our love,
Grandma and Grandpa Perry
Such sweet verbal imagery - thank you Guy.
Art
(Debbie always was a dynamo - good luck keeping up with her miniature version!)
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