A Man's Perspective--meeting the girls

Since landing in Petro we had been whisked around by a driver in white 80’s vintage mini van, escorted in and out of meetings at time warp speed like some high level politician, had a translator explain why a family with 3 children would want more, met the daughters of my dreams, and checked into the “Americans” suite at the local hotel. All within one hour. The Hotel Skiff is great, but it the whole experience reminds me of the movie Hotel Rwanda, only it’s an island in a sea of “Kazak” craziness. In many ways I feel I’m cheating our experience by not being able to stay at the orphanage and walk a mile in there shoes, so to speak, nevertheless the farther we are pulled from American soil the gravity of our situation has been driven home. If the rewards of travel are to be found from venturing off the beaten path then we’ve hit pay dirt! The title of a new book written by Christopher Robbins adds some insight, “The Land that Disappeared: In Search of Kazakhstan”. Will someone tell Christopher we found it! Thankfully they have a 28.8k high speed internet connection, frequent but short rolling brown-outs, and hot water despite the lack of pressure. Now if I could just get the boys to enjoy our discoveries.

Speaking of simple pleasures, our few minutes with the girls was a amazing experience. One that I wonder if I will ever fully understand exactly what transpired and, yet, never forget. When the Orphanage Director announced that they would be bringing the girls in to meet us I almost died. I told the translator I hadn’t planned for a face to face encounter at this point, “What about pictures?” I said. Now, many of you know I’ve speculated on how the process might actually occur for months now and let me just say the moment the girls came in the room I was ill prepared. They were both beautiful with olive skin and hazel eyes. Both are slight of build and no attempt to dress them for the occasion or get them “all gussied up” was apparently made. From the onset Yulia was very confident and mothering to her younger sister and when she expressed that she had been teaching herself to play the piano I thought, “Naturally.” She held Olia’s hand and stroked her arm making frequent eye contact as if to say everything would be okay. Olia, the girl whom we had seen a picture of, was very timid and shy but ever so sweet. At one point, I believe she was asked to sit up straight as if to make a good impression, but it was short lived. As we spoke through the translator we began to catch a glimpse of their personalities. This was what I had been waiting for. Yulia is obviously mature beyond her years in many ways, and Olia quite the opposite. She seemed so innocent, so unsure. When I asked what they enjoy doing for fun they replied playing games like hide and seek and singing. Obviously, the simple pleasures in of life for them were indeed, simple. How I wish the boys could have been there to see their eyes light up and their big smiles as the talked about the summer camp experience and how happy they were to be back together again. I was amazed at how well spoken they seemed to be. They commanded the language at will and though I could not understand them, their speech was clean and eloquent unlike the adult’s conversation we had just been privy to. I could have listened to them speak Russian for hours; their sweet voices were music to my ears. As time wore on I reached over and touched Olia on the arm, to let her know not only was I hearing what she was saying but feeling it as well. A quick glance of the eyes was all I received in return. It was all I could do to fight back the urge to give her a hug and somehow transfer all the love I possessed.

The old adage a “short meeting is good meeting” certainly did not apply. Unfortunately, with the Dept of Education representative present, we were there after all, only to decide whether or not we liked what we saw enough to move forward OR move on. The girls were allowed to say goodbye, then dismissed, and walked arm-in-arm out the door. More than anything I just wanted to follow.

Truthfully, I didn’t like what I saw. Not one little bit. These children or any others for that matter, being forced to make the best of an awful situation. Let’s not be naive, the kids aren’t there because Dad won the Fathers Day award and Mom the baking contest. Life hasn’t been fair in many ways. I can tell this is getting very close to the part of the experience that I feared the most. Facing the realization that, despite all my efforts, adding two girls to our family is all I can do and may do nothing for the plight of the remaining children. I am hoping though, to interact with the other children and attempt to help them believe that there are other parents out there, somewhere, working towards a family that may include them.

It has been said, "The price of clarity is the risk of insult." With that in mind, gingerly I asked if they were absolutely confident if the girls were "clear" to be adopted and if there would be any foreseeable objections. They assured me they were "clear". My response, “Then we are clear.”

I suspect some might wonder how a decision like this could be make so quickly, in a crowded dingy room so far away. Truthfully, this decision was made long ago and our brief face to face encounter with the girls only allowed us to know for sure that our decision was in alignment with the heavens.