Montezuma’s Revenge

 Tonight, Emily is speechless.  Astonishing, you say!  Well it’s true, so here I am, the quiet guy writing our entry for the day.  She had already brainstormed the whole intro to today’s blog (didn’t know we put so much thought into it, eh?), hence the title above.  I tried my hand at duplicating what we talked about last night, but I ain’t no writer.  Get me talking about the economy, the markets, or even specific stocks and I’ll talk your ear off.  (Now I’m not actually that one-sided, but you get my drift, I hope).  Actually, it’s not so much that she’s speechless, but rather, she’s had her ear glued to the phone all evening as everything was turned on its head about six hours ago.

This morning, I woke up weepy and frantically hopeful.  The thought of having to leave Emily behind to sort things out and have to face the embassy interview by herself has been horrible to accept.  I slept quite restlessly last night and every moment I awoke and turned over, I would say a quick prayer that we would somehow get a call from Abebe with the news that our fingerprints were here and we could go in for our interview today.  The morning passed with no call. 

I finally couldn’t stand it anymore so I called him.  Emily didn’t elaborate but last night in her post, but Abebe called us with a question from the embassy about whether we had done an addendum to our home study since we initially thought we would be getting younger children.  The addendum that Emily actually learned about on her own and had the presence of mind to ask our agency about modifies our initial approval to allow us to adopt an older child.  Luckily, we had it and had brought it with us as we understood.  We were thrilled to have finally done something right it seemed. 

Anyway, in my call to Abebe after lunch, I asked if he had called the embassy with the news that we had brought the addendum to our home study with us.  He said in his overly confident tone, that No, he hadn’t called the embassy but that they knew we had the form and the minute he hears from the embassy he’ll call us.  Now wait a second.  HOW does the embassy know we have the addendum here if you haven’t called them???  They called just last night enquiring whether we had the form, so the rational thing to do is call them back and give them the answer.  This is the system we feel trapped in, advocates who should be on our side, proactively calling on our behalf but ….  We’ve learned not to push Abebe because he can turn the rude on really fast, so I thanked him and went back to composing a talk in my mind about unanswered prayers.

As I watched the cell phone today, hoping it would ring at any second, it never did.  Just like that watched pot that never boils.  At about 4:45 pm, Abebe called and as I fumbled with the phone, it was all I could do to answer it.  We had a poor connection (yes, it happens even in the country, not just with all your overseas calls) but the gist of the conversation was that he had just received a call from the embassy asking about our home study addendum (see above paragraph!!) and when he told them we had brought it with us, they apparently said that was all wrong.  Forget the fingerprints, even if they come in, things are so fouled up since the addendum wasn’t processed correctly by our agency that there is no way to complete the adoption now.  WHAT?!?!

We went into high gear, gob smacked by this development.  We started calling the US and spent the next four hours racing to make some copies of this notarized document, then gave a copy to another adoptive mother Abebe put us in contact with who is returning to the States tonight to give to our agency.  We spent significant time on the phone while we were in the city center having dinner, a lucky thing since we get better cell coverage there.  Long story short, our Senator’s office pulled significant strings and Ralph and his assistant, Carol, have leapt the tallest building ever in a single bound.  As we were pulling away from dinner, Carol called us and asked if we could send her a scanned copy of the addendum and they would work that through the system.

Now take a step back here.  That seems like a simple request, but imagine where would you go to get a document scanned in an ‘un’- developing country like Ethiopia after 8 p.m.?  Carol said a fax might work but obviously who knows what clarity the phone lines around here would carry as anyone who has tried to call us will attest to.  Well, we go back to the phenomenal people here at the guest home where we have stayed.  Our driver, Gecho, drove us to an internet café where we found a scanner!  As they rebooted the computer twice to see if they could get it working, a lone cockroach ran around on the desk and no one seemed concerned about it but me.  As Emily navigated a bathroom stop with all the kids and no toilet paper (but this time, the toilet did have a seat), I eventually got the pages scanned and sent off.

The path they took from Carol’s hands from there is amazing.  Truly, nothing short of a miracle as they passed from our agency’s hands (where it apparently needs to originate) to the USCIS (Immigration Services) where the document received some stamp of approval and then on to the National Visa Center.  Without Carol and our Senator’s aide, this would have all been required to be in hard copy form and could have easily taken a few weeks.  Apparently, the National Visa Center has even agreed to send the form on to the Ethiopian embassy so they’ll have it there in the morning.

Now, have no guarantees that all these Herculean efforts by so many people on our behalf will lead to anything tomorrow.  There’s still that pesky issue of fingerprints floating around out there somewhere that apparently need to be approved, as if my fingerprints have changed from 15 months ago!  Then there’s the fact the embassy said it takes two days to issue a visa or next day turnaround for a Thursday application. But on Friday, when the embassy is only open half a day, I can’t imagine they would come in on Saturday for us.  Nonetheless, we are holding on to the glimmer of hope we feel at this point, as so many people, some of whom we don’t even know, have rekindled our tired lamps that the winds of daily discouragements had nearly blown out.

We have decided that the only possible way this might work is if we go to the embassy in the morning, hoping that things have made their way to them and they will grant us the exception of a same-day interview.  Further, if they can somehow issue a visa for our girls before our Saturday night flights, we can stay together as a family.  Otherwise, we face the difficult task of splitting up so as not to incur as many further costs from what has already been a very costly, especially emotionally, journey to get to this point. 

Signing off for now,

Steve

Lame

Written WEDNESDAY NIGHT but internet connectivity, like so many other
aspects of life right now, has been very frustrating…


Today was a pretty lousy day on all fronts.  The kids all fought and
whined.  We had to make another humiliating appearance at the embassy
to take care of power of attorney, in preparation for the depressing
prospect of Steve leaving and me staying here.  Still no fingerprints.
We went to the leprosy hospital which was a really cool place, but
all the people were at lunch, the guy from the branch who works there
was off for the day, and Ruby had a total breakdown.  Gecho got a
flat.

The highlight of my day was having the first green vegetables I've had
in recent memory.  The only fruit and veg I've had is cooked carrots
on two occasions, and bananas here and there.  If it weren't for all
the Coke I'm drinking, I'd be all plugged up.  I haven't had much
appetite the last couple days, unless you call a craving for Ibuprofen
an appetite.  But tonight at a really-almost-American-like restaurant,
called LimeTree, I had a Caesar salad.  I devoured it.  I also ate
half of Steve's Greek salad.

For the first time in over 10 days, we actually forgot to take our
phone to dinner.  When we returned we had a missed call from Abebe,
who had received a phone question from the embassy.  This is great
news--they are looking at our file.  We also received a really
encouraging email from a Senator's aide, indicating that she had
received a response from the embassy promising attention to our case.
This is wonderful news!  This was an even bigger highlight than my
salad.

I'm only cautiously optimistic, because tomorrow is the last possible
day we could have an interview and still get out of here Saturday.
That means they would have to get fingerprints tomorrow and schedule a
same-day interview.  That seems like a slim chance, but now that
they're making an extra effort I really hope it will happen somehow.
I guess the biggest obstacle is still having the fingerprints arrive,
though, because that's something without which they absolutely won't
proceed.

One thing I had not anticipated is that having the process be really
crappy and stressful makes you question the whole adoption.  I guess
it's like when you have a horrible moving experience, and wonder if
you really should've moved in the first place.  I'm trying to be aware
of this fact and stay logical, and not doubt everything that felt good
before, but it's difficult.  I also see the girls bonding to the staff
here, to whom they can speak Amharic.  That's one of the things that
worries me about staying longer--that it will really slow our bonding
with each other.  And I know the sooner we really bond, the sooner
we'll both feel better about things.  Though I now know quite a few
Amharic words, I started putting my foot down a bit today and
insisting on English.  I also refused to let anyone else comfort B in
Amharic during her tantrum today.  I made her stay in the room with
me, until I finally put her in the shower to distract her from her
bawling.  It's still quite a novelty, and by the time I got her
dressed again she had given up (about an hour).

You'll all be asleep during the crunch hours tomorrow, so please wish
us the best before you nod off.  An interview Thursday is our last
hope of going home all together.

This post is brought to you by the letter 'L', as in, the Lame horse
who is still in the median in the middle of our road, after 10 days.
He is starving to death.  You can now see every bone.  Though I see
and give to beggars on the street every day here, this is the sighte
that most breaks my heart.  I've never been a big animal advocate, but
there is something about this beast of burden abandoned in the middle
of a busy urban area.  People seem to believe in helping people here,
but not animals.  I'm no longer wishing I could somehow pay for a vet
to pick up this animal; now I'm wishing I were Jason Bourne, and I was
staying here speaking the language perfectly (as he always does), and
I had a gun with a silencer, and was a softie inside (as I know he
is), and could sneak out tonight and put this poor horse out of his
misery.

Embassy Shmembassy

I know people are wondering, so I wanted to let you know that our embassy visit today did not go well.  Our new fingerprints had not yet been processed, so they would not interview us.  For some reason--I'm really not sure why, as we were very calm and polite--the adoption staffer with whom we spoke was extremely aggitated and rude.  I understand that she could not interview us without fingerprints, but I don't understand why she was so upset with us, or why she wouldn't give us any information.  We asked for an estimate of how long it might take to get them back, or when we might possibly be able to get another interview.  She refused to answer anything, even just to give us an estimate.  She told us not to come back or call--they would contact our agency rep (Abebe) when our fingerprints were in.  She told us we never should have come--that we had been told not to travel without fingerprints and had violated that.  This is not true, as confirmed by our agency.

There is a very nice group of women staying here at Ethiopia Guest Home with us.  They are here on business for a nonprofit called Lifewater.  One of them worked in the state department for several years, at various foreign embassies, even with adoptions.  She tells us there actually is a lot they can do for American citizens abroad, to make exceptions and expedite things.  Both she and Abebe and Radu (agency) told us the best next step was to contact a congressperson or senator for help.  We are currently pursuing that with Ralph's help.

Thanks for all your prayers and concern.  We realize this is not life or death:  it would just be very scary financially to have to find a way to stay here another week, and to change all our plane tickets.  It would also be very stressful.  It is already difficult with four kids in our room, two who have been traveling for weeks and two who don't speak English.  They are a bit stir-crazy. 

We will already have been right in the capital city for two weeks, because this issue has forced us to cancel all our travel to other parts of Ethiopia.  Though we have really loved Ethiopia, everyone is asking us what we are possibly doing in the capital for two weeks.  There are some things to see here, and some day trips, but much of the great stuff is in other parts of the country.  Because of these issues, we have been forced to stay tethered to the capital and cancel all of our other travel.  We have certainly enjoyed seeing a lot of Addis and its surroundings, but we bounce around in an old van all day in heavy traffic in Addis, or on the road.  The kids are starting to hate the car rides and be hyper in the car.  It goes without saying that there are no seatbelts, and T and B have no sense that you must sit in a moving vehicle.  The kids are also getting less willing to eat the food--it's not wholly American and not wholly Ethiopian, so none are very happy.  We can't eat local fruits and vegetables unless they are carefully washed, and our guest home rarely serves them.  So, Steve and I are starting to feel plugged up.  With all this, the thought of adding on a third week is really a tough concept. 

Again, we love Ethiopia and would have loved to really see her sights.  We're just disappointed to have cancelled all the best stuff and stuck around here, only to have things STILL not work out.  I must say, though, that all the people here have been absolutely wonderful.  They are open, loving, friendly, and patient.  They have tended our kids, braided their hair, tried to accomodate their picky food tastes, and driven us everywhere, waiting for hours in the car for us.  The guard fetches us Coke and Fanta.  They all translate constantly for us.  (Today we had them explain Halloween, and that you must apologize to your siblings when Mom tells you to.)  One employee we don't even know went out of his way today to find us and express his sympathy that our embassy visit had not gone well today.  Being turned away from the embassy on the verge of tears today, I really don't know what I would have done if we hadn't had such great people waiting for us back here.  I will never forget the kindness shown us here.  I never would have guessed that we'd feel more comfortable here than at the embassy.

We did try to distract ourselves today by going to the national museum.  We try to go somewhere everyday.  We saw the famous "Lucy" and other of the worlds oldest skeletons, oldest ancestors of man found here that make Ethiopia a good candidate for Cradle of Humanity.  The museum is a confusing contradiction--like everything else in this city.  Some great treasures inside, but outside rundown, weeds overgrowing the statue of Haile Salassie, and the museum's sign resting against an old tree.  The museum guide told us he believes it was the Derg--the socialist government that took over after Salassie in the 70's--who ruined Ethiopia and set her back so far in development.

A few positive notes:

-The receptionist today told me my Amharic has improved a lot since I arrived.  That's good--and I still have another week.  I'll be fluent by then!  Except maybe I'm speaking too much, because the girls aren't attempting much English.

-I still have another week to benefit from this African diet (although today I had them take me to an upscale store and I bought expensive cheer-us-up treats like peanut M&M's.  I bought Steve an Apple-Jacks-Look-Alike cereal for an anniversary gift.  Thirteen years today.).

-Today at the museum there was a group of several French adoptive families there, all with their little babies and toddlers.  Unlike the first day at the orphanage, where I looked a bit longingly at the babies, I had no desire for them today.  Rather, I felt like we were the lucky ones, with our two older African Beauties, and those families must all be jealous that we had these wonderful older children.  That was a good realization to have. Sometimes I look at Tinsae, whose hair is now braided up off her neck, and think she really could be an Afican Queen.  Her bone structure is beautiful, graceful, and elegant--something she never could have gotten from my genes.  And Birhane's dimples and bubbly chatter turn heads.  We are the lucky ones. 

-Blog comments, phone calls and emails of support:  these are definitely a highlight, and have really kept me feeling positive throughout this trip.  I think back on specific things said online or on the phone frequently throughout the day.  All your support--and I mean EVERYONE--has meant the world to us.  We feel already love our girls, and love us, too.

Love to all,
Emily

FYI:  In the photos on the last post, the man in the yellow shirt is our translator and friend, Aki.  He goes everywhere with us.  He came to church with us on Sunday and loved it.  I think he made some good new friends there.

3 girls having fun!

Abyssinia

 A note to my previous entry about freaking out over T's age:  Ruby was an integral part of talking me down from that ledge.  I first spoke to another adoptive father staying at the guesthouse, who previously adopted a girl listed as 9, who turned out to be 11.  I asked him how it had gone with their other daughter at home.  He said they explained how she would always be the first daughter they had, even if not technically the oldest.  He said they're fine now.  I then casually talked to Ruby while doing her hair, and asked her sort of casually what she thought of the whole age order thing.  She said she really didn't care what grade Tinsae was in, as long as she wasn't in first.  "I just want my own grade to myself--just like I like to have my own cup to myself.  You know."  Very good 6-year-old logic.  I then brought up the idea that, no matter what eventually shakes out, we know she came to our family first, and that must have been how Heavenly Father planned it.  I said we were lucky to have had a very special six years together.  "Yes, Mom," she said.  "It's like we were all coming in car rides, and I got there first."  Exactly.  Then she added, in her new pre-teen talk, I guess, "You know, Tinsae and I are like, pals."  This conversation was wonderful--it meant the world to me.


Today, again, T refused breakfast.  This time I didn't offer her anything else.  B refused also, even though she'd liked the waffles before, as a show of solidarity with her sister.  T and R also had their first altercation:  T had our digital voice recorder, which I brought to record them speaking Amharic.  Mostly it gets a lot of little girls giggling.  Ruby wanted a turn, and kept saying "Ebakesh."  (Please.)  Tinsae wouldn't give it, so Ruby grabbed for it and accidentally poked T in the eye.  We made her apologize, and gave T a hug.  They both sulked a bit.  I thought it was great--this is much more like typical sister behavior than friend/sleepover behavior.  As for the breakfast thing, these little episodes are not stressing me out as much as I thought they might.  It just seems so expected.  The bloom is a bit off our rose now, and they're probably missing the comforts of the orphanage.  I'd rather have these things start to happen now, with translators around, than wait until we're home.  Aki says they see these same things for a few days with all the children.  For the most part, our days are still surprisingly easygoing.  After the kids are in bed, Steve and I still look at each other and say it feels like we're tending.  This is so surreal!! It reminds me of when I brought Jasper home from the hospital and I thought, "I don't know you from Adam.  Are they really going to trust me with you?"  It's not a lack of desire to bond, just an acknowledgement that it happens little by little, day by day.


Anyway, enjoy the post below.  We'll try to add some photos.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today we met a wise old museum guide in St. Mary’s Church at Entoto  This, the first Orthodox Christian Church in Ethiopia, sits atop a hill on the outskirts of Addis Ababa, next to the old palace of Menelik II..  I was, as usual, asking many questions.  As we walked away I asked Aki, our translator, for clarification about Ethiopia’s religious history.  Aki, who is young, did not know the answer and insisted we go back to the guide so I could understand.  The guide answered my question, and noted my curiosity with a smile.  He whispered something that struck me distinctly, and crystallized thoughts I’ve been having since I first began reading about Ethiopia.  “You are now part of Ethiopia’s family, with your children,” he said in a thick accent.  “You must come back here, and bring others.  The Western world thinks of Ethiopia as the very lowest of Africa.  Someday in the future they will again recognize that it is the top.” 

As we walked away from the guide, I told Aki the old man was right:  Unfortunately, most of the Western world does think of Ethiopia as only poor and starving.  I used to, also.  He said to me, “You are a writer.  Someday maybe you will write a book telling the truth about Ethiopia to the world.”  I don’t know that I’m the right candidate for that, but I think I can manage a blog post.  I am reading one of the great books already written about Ethiopia, There Is No Me Without You, by Melissa Fay Greene.  She explains what the old guide meant, why Ethiopia was once the top of Africa.

“Standing like a mountain fortress above the Horn of Africa, near the confluence of the Red sea, the Arabian sea, and the Indian Ocean, ancient Ethiopia defied foreign conquerors for millennia and traded in slaves, gold, ivory, spices, gems, textiles, and animals with ancient Eqypt, Persia, Arabia, the Roman Empire, and India.  Five-thousand-year-old Egyptian hieroglyphs mention the preference of the pharaohs for myrrh from Ethiopia.  For centuries, Axum, the highland Ethiopian kingdom of the Amhara people, was the dominant Red Sea power, builder of castles and massive stone monoliths, minter of gold, silver and copper coins.  Third-century CE Persian writings named the world’s four great kingdoms as Rome, China, Persia, and Axum.”

“The Ethiopian script and alphabet, the Ethiopian church, the Ethiopian calendar, the Ge’ez script (the first written language in Africa) and Ethiopian literature, the illuminated Ge’ez Bibles, the Ethiopian clock, Ethiopian holidays, and indigenous styles of architecture, painting, oral poetry, dance, and tapestry survive uncompromised, undiluted, unique on the planet.  And the handsome, slender, prideful Ethiopian people know it, too.”

“For how many millennia were the Abyssinians [the name of ancient Ethiopia was Abyssinia] sitting up there on their rocky plateau, discussing literature in coffee shops, while, in barbarian Europe, less evolved of the Homo sapiens clubbed each other with rocks and rode warhorses and lofted spears at each other?”  [Coffee first came from Ethiopia—it was first harvested in the forests of Kaffa.]

So why, then, is Ethiopia in the state it is in?  There are many reasons, but one—ironically—is that Ethiopia managed to fight off colonization by European powers.  Italy did occupy Ethiopia for five years, by deceiving its emperor with a fake treaty.  Ethiopians fought desperately until the Italians gave up, so it never materialized into a full-fledged colonization.  This is a point of great pride for Ethiopians;  however, as a result Ethiopia never had the benefit of millions of dollars of infrastructure investment from a wealthy foreign power.

Ms. Greene explains some of the other reasons Ethiopia lost its place in line, like world financial policies, poor national political and economic management, and AIDS.  Ethiopia’s ‘development’ clock began to turn backwards,” she says.  And she notes a point I had never considered before:

“’Terminology like ‘developing countries’ [gives] the impression that the whole world is moving in the same direction, albeit at varying rates,’ writes Mark Heywood . . . . “The whole world is not moving in the same direction.  Many so-called ‘developing countries’ are more accurately described as undeveloping countries.  They are going backwards. . . . Infant morality is on the rise again.  Adult life expectancy is going down.  Poverty is increasing.’”

Sometimes when you’re speaking to Ethiopians here in Addis, the capital city, its hard to believe this.  They are on Facebook.  They have TV stations ranging from Al Aqsa to the BBC.  They are healthy and well-fed; they have radio quiz shows asking which three executive-branch Americans have won the Nobel Peace Prize.  (Can you name them?)

And yet, here in the capital city, shepherds and goatherds guide their animals down the side of every busy road.  A starving, injured horse, with a huge, infected red tumor on one foot making it lame, stood helplessly in the middle of the road for two days on a busy road right around the corner from our guest house.  Steve and I were so disturbed we finally decided to call a vet—but the next day the horse was nowhere in sight.  We have only seen one working traffic light.  And when traffic does stop due to congestion, beggars immediately spot our white faces and appear at the windows of our van, asking for anything.  Today at the zoo two very trendy-looking young women begged for a photo with Jasper because he’s a handsome, blond, white boy.

And yet again, our Ethiopian guides are always kind to the beggars, and encourage us to give something.  There is no road rage, though cars are constantly honking within inches of each other, headed in every which direction.  And have I mentioned that gas station attendants stand in there parking lots with wads of thousands of Birr—the currency—right out in the open?  Steve and I couldn’t believe our eyes, but Gecho assured us there is no danger of theft.

It begins to seem impossible to put your finger on this country, to sum it up or describe it neatly.  Perhaps it is really two countries, and they both come together in Addis Ababa.  Because when you talk to these city friends about the “countryside,” as they call it, they speak as if it is almost a different world.  When I asked about female circumcision, Aki looked shocked and said, “Perhaps some, but only in the countryside.”  In the capital city, most people speak and read both Amharic and English.  In the countryside many are illiterate.  Characteristically, though, the Ethiopian people are open, and acknowledge these differences.  It is very similar to their two-pronged view of adoption.  As one Ethiopian official says in the book, “I am deeply respectful of the families who care for our children.  But I am so very interested in any help that can be given to us to keep the children’s first parents alive.  Adoption is good, but children, naturally, would prefer not to see their parents die.”

I have asked Aki a couple of times whether Ethiopians resent our being here, taking their orphans.  He assures me they don’t, and the attitude of those we come across bears him out.  Today at the zoo, we were as much on display as the animals.  Everywhere we went people stopped to stare at us, to look at Jasper and Ruby, and to watch us interact with Tinsae and Birhane.  I could tell some were asking Aki questions about us.  But they are smiling at us.  They greet Tinsae and Birhane.  I get the sense that many people in Addis think of these orphans as “countryside” children.  I wonder if that is correct.

Many people ask us, “Why Ethiopia?”  In the beginning my answers were mostly related to the reasons Ethiopia makes adoption reliable and quick, and produces children who are generally emotionally healthy.  Steve and I did know, however, that you are strongly encouraged to choose a country whose culture interests you, so that you can help the children feel pride in their heritage.  I still believe this strongly—Ethiopia is not right for everyone; rather, adoption is such an emotional leap that every family should only pursue the country that speaks to their hearts.  For us, it happened over time.  It was when we learned many of the things above, as well as Ethiopia’s fascinating interactions with ancient peoples of the Bible, that Steve and I felt we really could love this culture.  Now that I’m here, seeing this green and beautiful countryside, learning the history, meeting kindness at every turn, and unlocking the mystery of these two girls, I realize it would be impossible for me not to love Ethiopia.  I’ll have no problem instilling pride of heritage in Tinsae and Birhane.


It’s 11:00 PM, and I have to smile as I watch Steve carry little adorably crazy-haired Birhane to go “shent.”  I think this would be much more difficult if you didn’t have previous children.  For us, we’ve learned that when a 3-year-old wakes up crying in the night, it’s pretty much always because they need to go to the bathroom.  Among other things, there are two things in particular that I find really fascinating about Birhane’s approach to this whole situation.  One is how she is different from other 3-year-olds, and the other is how she is different from her sister.

Birhane has clearly been through it, and learned not to whine about it.  It sure makes it look like I’ve been spoiling my kids with too much validation all these years.  I’m sure the best parenting approach is somewhere in between.  Birhane is clearly sick, so I’ve made her take all sorts of medicine, from a gross, powder-water cough medicine, to half of one of Jasper’s Allegra (OK, Dr. Lizzie?), to Tums, to Tylenol.  I can’t believe how she takes it all like a pro.  She’s clearly never had anything chewable, so she insists on swallowing them all, no matter how I try to demonstrate chewing.  This was rather shocking because I gave her the Tums first.  Those suckers are pretty big!  Yet she took them, put them on the back of her tongue, took a swig of water and swallowed.  You could see that the size and taste were alarming, but she went ahead without a peep.  With the cough medicine, as soon as I fill the spoon this little mouth opens wide—it’s like a weird twist on Pavlov’s dog.  Again—it clearly doesn’t take good, but no whining, just some water, please.  And she doesn’t even have a clue why or what I’m giving her!  I can’t imagine this working with either of my previous 3-year-olds.  She also stops whatever she’s doing right when I ask her, and gets in her bed and goes to sleep right when I point at it.  We’ve gone through two unpleasant lice washings, one of which got soap in her eyes.  She made some mild sounds to alert me to the problem, but remained calm and accepted my remedy of cold, water-bottle water poured on her eyes.  It’s amazing!  I’m sure these are all benefits of orphanage life that will sadly disappear as soon as she realizes I’m bluffing at this whole thing.  For now, I’m enjoying it while it lasts.  And whose idea was that to give us two kids who were already potty-trained?  I’m really liking that idea.

For the other part, it’s clear that Birhane is too young to be set in her ways or realize what she’s going through.  She started calling me Mama within 24 hours.  She tries, and seems to like, just about every food she is offered.  (Ice cream didn’t make it past a few licks—too cold!  She liked the cone so just ate that until I realized what was going on, and ended up holding a melting ice cream in my hands.  I couldn’t eat it because she’s sick.  That felt like a very typical parenting moment within this strange world.)  We had a funny moment with waffles yesterday morning.  They were from a heart-shaped waffle maker, and had the resulting pattern, but still looked kind of round, like injera.  Injera is basically the national bread here.  It is large, flat, soft, and circular, and tastes like sourdough bread.  They roll it up here, and use it to eat with—as a way to pick up their food.  Birhane looked questioningly at this bumpy, strange-shaped piece of injera.  She decided to give it a go, and started to roll it up from the side.  It didn’t roll well at all, and so she announced (in Amharic) that she didn’t like the food.  We hadn’t caught on, and so were offering to get her something else.  The Amharic cook, however, Tigist, was wiser.  She showed Birhane how to break it into pieces, and then made her try some.  Of course Birhane loved it.  We then gave her syrup, and she proceeded to eat the whole thing by using the pieces to mop up the syrup and eating them, one by one.  She found a way to make it like injera, anyway.  In fact, Birhane rarely uses a fork.  She is always willing to attempt it, but soon resorts to her fingers, injera-style—tonight she even ate spaghetti with her fingers.  She is quite happy and easy-going all the time.  She attempts English words quite easily, out of the blue, and looks at you in a very straightforward manner.  She is attached to her sister, though.  Today I took her downstairs to color while Jasper and Ruby did homework.  Tinsae was still napping in her bunk.  After a while, Birhane suddenly slipped out of my sight even though she was sitting right next to me.  I got up to look for her, a bit panicked.  I found her on the stairs, coming down in response to my call.  She explained that she had just been going to find Tinsae.  Of course the only word I understood was Tinsae, but she jabbered on and motioned confidently and I got the gist.  We woke Tinsae and brought her down with us.

Tinsae, on the other hand, is understandably a bit wary.  We saw two different sides of her today which we have expected, but hadn’t seen much of yet.  We weren’t alarmed—just took notice, and probably breathed a sigh of relief to see that we got through it fine.  This morning, Tinsae refused even to try the French toast.  This is not quite like our French toast, but is made by the Ethiopian cooks here in their own way.  They serve a mix of Ethiopian and American food.  This is the first time Tinsae has not been willing to try something.  I think she was really tired.  I took her across the street to the market to pick up something else.  We have no snacks to speak of (the secret to the success of our African diet is the Lean-Cuisine size portions they serve, and the dearth of snacks), and I felt she has been such a trooper so far that she should be excused for refusing one meal.  She picked out some biscuits (cookies) and—I thought—ate enough.  But it was clear as the morning went on, from St. Mary’s Church to the zoo, that she was hungry, tired, and maybe more.  She would only admit to Aki that she was cold.  I had stupidly dressed her in short sleeves on a cool day.  She would not smile or play, and I worried that maybe I had been showing Birhane too much attention.  She always wants to sit by me or in my lap, and she is sick.  Honestly, though, we felt we couldn’t blame Tinsae for whatever might be going on in her mind.  We can only imagine what she’s feeling, and she’s really been on her best behavior.

She was still quiet through the lions and monkeys at the zoo (all I can say about that is PETA stay out, and the rest of you, don’t listen to Jane Goodall’s My Life with the Chimpanzees like we did, and then go in this zoo).  But then we discovered a children’s playground.  This was at least as good as the worst state fair or local carnival you’ve ever been to.  You know those power wheels cars we have for the kids to drive?  Well they had two old ones, and were charging money to ride them around in a circle.  Jasper didn’t even want to ride because it looked so boring, unless it was just to drive Birhane.  But the operator pulled him and Ruby in with this “the white kids WILL go together attitude” and Jasper played along.  It was really weird.  Of course a crowd gathered to watch them.  Then he let Tinsae and Birhane go, and they loved it.  This is when Tinsae could not resist a smile anymore.  She loved it.  She quickly graduated to fast driving.  There was also a scary Ferris Wheel, a pair of old metal slides, and some swings.  Tinsae was in heaven and was just beaming by the end of play time.  She had been a bit cold to me earlier, but came up after playing and said, “Mama, shent.”  Meaning, she called me Mom and trusted me to help her find a bathroom.  Tinsae is much slower to attempt English than Birhane, and also won’t speak a lot of Amharic on command.  She is happy to translate for me as needed, though, and clearly knows a lot of English—the orphanage staff was chiding her for acting as if she didn’t.  Last night she and Birhane sang the ABC’s and counted to 100 in English.  I’m not sure why she is hesitant to speak much, but I don’t feel any hostility from her.  I get the sense she’s just waiting—waiting to feel more comfortable, and to be able to say what she wants to say the way she wants to say it.

One thing she does do is play and giggle a lot with Ruby.  Tonight was a giggle-fest!  Who knows what they’re always laughing at, since they can’t speak more than a couple words to each other, but they’re enjoying something.  They are two peas in a pod.  This frenzy could get old if it went on forever, but I know it won’t.  Right now it’s like having a friend on a vacation for Ruby.  Eventually it will be more like just sisters.  You can tell that sometimes Tinsae gets sick of playing, and she’ll want to come sit close to me.  Even Ruby wanted to take a break and sit with her dad for a while today.  (All of this sitting refers to the car, as we drive a lot.)  She and Ruby will get a little irritated over electronics.  They are like an addiction to Tinsae right now, and Ruby gets tired of her interest in them.  Ruby doesn’t necessarily mind sharing as much as she wants Tinsae’s attention.  You can see Tinsae has learned to hold her own with other children and won’t always give things back when Ruby asks.  But as soon as I step in and say something she responds obediently and immediately.  She clearly feels she must be absolutely obedient to me for some reason.  Again, she doesn’t yet know that I’m just faking it.  She took a very long afternoon nap today, which I think was the complete remedy to her mood of the morning.

Ruby, on the other hand, did not nap.  Rather, she decided to throw a tantrum that started at lunch and lasted for an hour.  It was the biggest doozy I’ve ever seen from her.  I’m sure she’s exhausted, and emotionally overwhelmed.  Steve and I stayed calm and handled it the way we always do, with warnings and time out.  We eventually just put her in the next room with her food, because her screaming was making nap time impossible.  We left the door open and said she could come back when she was done crying.  Tinsae and Birhane watched the whole affair wide-eyed.  I was worried, but this is life.  I hope they didn’t think I was saying something mean to Ruby they didn’t understand.  I hope they saw that we remained gentle and reasonable with her.

As for Jasper, he’s either pretty content, or blocking us all out.  He loves Birhane, and has appointed himself her caretaker.  She thinks he’s fabulous and chatters away at him.  His response is to repeat back to her everything she says in Amharic.  She seems to accept this as encouragement to keep talking.  She even fell asleep on his lap yesterday.  He doesn’t seem bothered by the whole Tinsae-Ruby twosome, except to make sure he’s doing his big-brotherly job of bugging them from time to time.

All in all, I would say we’re doing pretty well.  Though we’re really enjoying sight-seeing, it’s getting really difficult to live in one room, and I’m getting very little sleep with Birhane’s coughing.  Ruby and Jasper are getting sick of travel all together because it’s been four weeks.  And Tinsae and Birhane need routine.  Therefore, we’re really eager to get home!!  We’re going to be hard-pressed to make it to next Saturday with happy campers.  If  our fingerprints aren’t ready and we have to wait another week, I don’t know how we’ll survive.  Or how we’ll afford it, for that matter.  Please, no!!

P.S.  Tinsae and Birhane’s last name is Ayalew because that was their father’s first name.  Ethiopians take their father’s first name as their last name.  Women don’t change their names when they marry.

P.P.S.  Melissa Greene’s book also hits the funny stuff on the head.  She describes how it feels to be an American woman here, next to an Ethiopian woman. “I always felt like Major Gangly White Woman next to her,” she says. And this comes from a woman much smaller than me.  Imagine how I look around here!  I forget until I see our photos.

P.P.S.  I think I may have to wait and start posting in the morning.  I found out in conversation with Rowlina, the night receptionist, that she goes to nursing school all day.  So the sleep she gets at this job is her only sleep.  Now I feel even more guilty for disturbing her in the office at night.

Of Lice and Women

Dave Hibbert was curious and found a you tube link to the lullaby I mentioned last night.  Thanks, Dave.  Here it is, if you'd like to hear it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyHX71Z6M7s&feature=PlayList&p=1136B8C111BF4BFD&index=8

Well, tonight we can't even get our blog to LOAD from here.  So, once again, I'm emailing something to Sara and asking her to post it.  She's become our go-to girl, and is convenient because she's only two hours behind us--thanks, Sara.

I'm on the "office" computer and the night receptionist is asleep on a mattress right next to me, so I'll be really brief.  Tonight I was determined to get down here before 10:00 PM so I wouldn't keep her awake (I usually write in Word in our room and then come down and just cut and paste, but even that takes a long time), but as I started bed time around 7:00 PM, I decided to do a lice check.  Ugh!!  I thought I got all the yuckies out of the way with the scabies stuff last night.  I thought I was just being extra careful because little B was scratching her head today.  But there it was, that awful bug crawling right in between two of her braids.  I took it personally.  Most of you already know how traumatic I found it to discover lice on Jasper and Ruby five years ago this month, in London.  I just can't stand the thought of bugs on bodies!  I can fly all the way over hear and do all this, but I can't stand bugs on me.  I'm fine if they're outside, or high up on the wall, or in corners and totally uninterested in me.  Dave tried to convince Sara and me this trip that earwigs don't actually crawl in ears.  He even read us a BBC report online that said any earwig found in a human ear would be sadly discruntled and very lost.  But Sara and I just wouldn't have it.  We're convinced they want us.  I don't remember a single other thing about The Wrath of Khan except that one of my most vivid childhood memories is of seeing that earwig put in that ear.  Way to censor inappropriate content for your children, Mom--I'm scarred for life.

Anywhile, I'm wasting my Internet time.  The point is that I just got down here because it took me three hours to check every head for lice, then wash them all with the death-to-all-hair-bugs shampoo, then "wait 10 minutes, lather, shampoo, and rinse," then check every head for nits with the nit comb, then gather all the clothes, PJ's, linens and towels that we just had washed in hot to be washed again, then have Steve check my head. T and B obviously knew the drill--no explanation was necessary.  They just sat down and let me go to work.  Tinsae even immediately started undoing Birhane's braids.  This is a skill.  I undid three in the time she undid the entire rest of B's head.  I must say we got an adorable picture of the resulting hairdo.  The worst part was when one bug came out and landed on my leg.  I, of course, freaked out and flicked it onto the floor,  then quickly realized I must find it and make it die.  This I did.  (Speaking of flick, Mom and Dad, one of my favorite name choices was Flicka, like the horse.  So if you don't like my name choice just know it could be worse.)  The best part (if there must be one) was having Steve help find the nits.  This is one of those tiny little detailed things with which I don't have much patience without his perserverance.  I'm more inclined to just pray for no more nits.

By the time we finished little B was exhausted and looked miserable.  She missed her nap today, and was up late, and we took her on a long day trip in the car--she clearly inherited my motion sickness from across the ocean somehow.  The only remedy here is to have her get out and try to poop on the side of the road, which they attempt freely.  Believe it or not, the Amharic word for poop is "kuh kuh."  Just like our explanation for yuck!  Birhane taught this to me the first day--it was the first thing she ever asked me.

It's also clear Birhane is sick, and has an allergy to something.  She sneezes a lot and has the sniffles.  Tinsae says it was already this way at the orphanage, so it's nothing in our room.

Our road trip today was to Portuguese Bridge at Blue Nile Gorge.  It was absolutely phenomenol.  This is how it went.  We asked for day trip ideas since we can no longer travel north.  Gaetcho and Ahki suggested this cool bridge about two hours away, called Portuguese Bridge.  So today we drove there via the Ethiopian countryside.  This was our first trip outside the city, and it was breathtaking.  Think Northern California/Montana/Northern Utah.  This is literally one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  It's rolling green hills are dotted with villages made of conicle grass huts called "goha-bet."  They use eucalyptus wood for much of this building, so there are planted eucalyptus groves dotting the hills and it smells heavenly.  I think as soon as Ethiopia figures out how to serve tourists better, and tourists figure out there is more to Africa than animals, this will be one of the hottest African travel destinations.  We passed several cyclists, and with this beauty and this mild climate in winter (the weather here is beautiful, 70-80 degrees with a breeze), Steve couldn't imagine a better place to ride.

When we reached our destination, we did see some babboons and hike down to a neat bridge.  It was made of Ostrich eggs by the Portuguese in the 1600's, and is still standing.  But what they didn't tell us was that we would also see an absolutely amazing canyon, fed by the waterfall that flows under this bridge.  We told Gaetcho and Ahki they were billing this trip all wrong.  They need to say, "Come see Ethiopia's Grand Canyon."  I'll try to include a link to it, if I have time.  Though I was terrified of losing a child the whole time because there are no guard rails, I loved it.  Steve loved it even more, because he was not as paranoid.

http://clivebest.com/blog/?p=41

Ruby and Tinsae played and laughed togethe the whole time, there and back, in the van.  Birhane chattered and looked out the windows, slept and felt sick.  Their only previous car ride--before they met us--was a bus trip from their town's orphanage to the big orphanage in Addis.  I let Ruby and Jasper bring their DS's (small, hand-held electronic game players) because there would be so much car time.  Tinsae couldn't put Ruby's down--she is enthralled with electronics.  I had to learn the Amharic word for "share."

Probably mainly do to very poor sleep, I had a bit of a freak-out day today.  I was struggling to deal with the fact that no one, including her, really knows how old Tinsae is.  I asked for little and she's clearly not little.  I was also worried about how chummy she and Ruby were the whole way in the van.  What about Jasper?  How will this work?  But, I continue to talk to ask the kids, and I seem to be the only one worried.  I don't want to create worry in them.  Jasper said couldn't we just take T to a doctor here to determine her exact age, because I was stressing everyone out.  OK--point taken.  Luckily, Steve took his turn at being the cool head today.  I had my moment, then tried to remember I was tired, and that this will, indeed, be hard on all the kids.  But that's OK.  It will work out, and we had our assurance.  I didn't get inspiration that said, "adopt these girls only if you're sure about TInsae's age."  I have to remember that.  Plus, that's such a small thing in view of all the other issues we don't have--no learning disabilities, developmental delays, health problems, noticeable emotional dysfunction, etc.  I just promised myself (and Belinda) that if I would blog about this at all, I would be honest about both confidence and anxiety.  That's only fair to other adoptive families, and the only way to tell a true story.

If I want reason to return tomorrow, I must go to bed.  Have I told you that everyone in Addis seems to own a rooster, and they crow ALL NIGHT?  At ALL hours?  That is a perfect picture of what this city is like:  it's a major capital city, home to the African office of the UN and the pan-African committee, and yet there are roosters and cows and goats and donkeys roaming the streets everywhere.

P.S.  I keep hearing that the blog is the new resume.  So, if you were considering me for a writing contract someday, oh anonymous fans of the publishing world, please don't disqualify me on account of this blog.  I have adopted the James-esque run-on sentence, the neurotic parenthetical, and the disjointed dash out of speed, fatigue, and laziness.  Given a fat advance, I can do much better.

Discrustradappy

Ahh, today . . . Let’s see.  Right now we’re feeling exhausted.  I just finished showering three girls, rubbing scabies cream all over two of them, sorting out pajamas and underwear, singing each child their separate lullaby, and getting them all in bed.  Of course Jasper and Ruby are still awake and listening to The Graveyard Book with us, because they’ve never heard of going to bed at the silly hour of 7:00 PM.  The other two were bushed.  And now I hear the odd sound of a new child snoring in my room—a strange and funny feeling.

Today was discouraging, frustrating, sad then happy.  At least we got them in the right order!  Discrustradappy. 

Discouragement came early as we had no where to be first thing in the morning, and Jasper and Ruby had cabin fever.  This has been a long trip for them, and I don’t blame them.  They picked at each other and fought constantly.  They kept speaking to each other in a really rude tone of voice, which I’m sure they learned from their parents, but which we hate to hear them use with each other.  I got impatient, and couldn’t seem to settle any of their issues.  I felt discouraged by the onset of real life again, and real sibling fighting, and the fact that I can never be the magic problem-solving mother I want to be, and that I know life with our new daughters will turn into this at times, too.  I also felt bad because I know I’m putting Jasper and Ruby through great emotional strain—it shows in their contrariness.  I know they will benefit so much from this in the future, and I know they’re excited now, but I also know they’re scared of losing their own places in the family, no matter what I say.  That was a badly running-on sentence, but I’m too tired to fix it.  Anyway, it’s normal—the sibling fear, not the run-on sentence.  OK, fine—maybe that is for me, too.

Frustration came next, when the embassy was much more crowded than yesterday.  We had to wait in several different lines for long periods of time and the kids were LESS than happy about it.  Jasper had refused to eat the yummy curry lunch which he insisted was too spicy, and had thus transformed into Hungrumpo Man.  It was hot.  Hot and crowded.  We seemed to be getting nowhere.  Finally, we found someone who seemed to understand our very unique predicament, and escorted us to our fingerprint appointment in another building.  That was all nice and pleasant.  But then we were told they can’t promise our fingerprints will be processed by Monday.  AAARRRGGGGHHHHHJ!!!!!  Are you KIDDING me?? 

Adoption interviews are only granted on Mondays, so if they aren’t ready by Monday we are toast.  We cannot afford, nor will our children stand, to hand around here another week.  This is not the fault of the embassy except in the fact that they are just too big and busy to give any case an individual schedule.  It is squarely the fault of our agency—both the US and Ethiopian representatives.  We could waste a lot of time getting upset about this, and we may yet.  (Dad, get your letterhead ready!)  But for now, we’re just hoping they rush it, as they said they would try, and everything works out for our appointment on Monday. 

Please, if you don’t mind, pray that it will.  We would really appreciate it.   

I used to feel a bit awkward when other families said they had not had a good experience with their agency and wouldn’t use it again.  But now I realize it’s just like saying you had a terrible natural labor, and want drugs next time.  Or had a psychedelic drug-induced labor, and want to go natural next time.  You’re still thrilled to have the baby, and have no regrets about going through the pain—you’d just do things differently next time.

Anywhat, we did have one prayer answered at the embassy.  I had been getting concerned the past couple of days that we wouldn’t be able to find church and would miss the opportunity to go while we’re here.  I had included this concern in my prayers.  On the way to the embassy we had asked Ahki and Gaetcho, who’ve never heard of the church, to help us find it.

While walking through the crowd at the embassy, I suddenly saw two grey heads and two black tags.  Yes!! It’s true!  We ACTUALLY ran into some of the only Ethiopian missionaries at the US embassy!  They have only been here a week and looked rather shell-shocked, but happy.  They told us the name of the branch and the time it started.  We thought we’d have to find it ourselves, but then ran into them again on our way out.  This is really amazing if you consider how crowded and nuts the embassy was today.  We walked out with them and they introduced us to their driver, a branch president in Addis Ababa (who looked about 16 but has already served a mission in Uganda).  We promptly introduced him to Ahki our translator, to whom the branch president gave directions to the branch.  Slick!  We are all set for Sunday, and have introduced Ahki to a local member to boot.  Things were looking up.

We then went to the orphanage to get the girls for good.  We had them change into clothes we brought so they could leave the orphanage ones for other kids, and they took us to see their bedrooms.  These were painted bright pink, and had about six bunkbed sets each.  Tinsae slept with the older girls and Birhane the younger.  This orphanage is very brightly-colored and pleasant.  We saw Tinsae’s classroom, and met one of her nannies who told us Tinsae made her look through the whole photo album several times.  She looked at Steve and said she had even seen his brother in the book.  She again said that Tinsae had asked constantly when her family would come.

We met with the nurse, who gave us T and B’s medical records and went over them with us.  I asked if all the tests were really definite, like HIV, and she looked insulted and pointed out to me that they even do the DNA test for HIV.  She also got a bit uncomfortable when I asked about Tinsae’s age, pointing out that her teeth look large for baby teeth.  She said the social worker who first investigated them in the countryside determined their age. 

They gave us the girls’ schoolwork (both very clever, the nurse said), and a nice traditional dress for each of them, and we were off.  I felt sad for them.  How do you say goodbye to everything you know?  Tinsae waved frantically at all the children she knew, on their way out of school.  I had them stop the van so she could get out and give some hugs.  She didn’t seem sad to be leaving them, rather it was more the look of “I’ve won the lottery!  Here’s my family, and I’m leaving.  Goodbye!”  We signed two copies of one piece of paper, and that was it.  We were off.  After the year of paperwork, it was hard to believe.

Then came the really sad part.  When we got to the guest home, we decided we should do the interview right away.  We have always felt that we should record Tinsae answering questions about her life before the orphanage before she got too absorbed in her new life.  We felt, and some of our research showed, that this would be very important to her when she grows up—to have some tiny insight into a forgotten childhood.  We knew the questions might be hard for her, and we asked the nurse what she thought before we left the orphanage.  She said it was important for Tinsae to talk about the past, and that they encourage it at the orphanage all the time.  That openness is one of the reasons we felt great about adopting children from this culture. 

We grabbed Ahki to translate, and figured we better get it over with right away.  We put a mic on Tinsae, knowing she speaks very softly when nervous.  I started by asking about the kind of house she lived in, and then moved on to her family.  I don’t know how much to share here, because it is her story.  Basically we learned that she loved her mother, who got sick when Birhane was born and died about a year later.  At that time she had to quit school and stay home to take care of Birhane and her brother while her dad worked.  Her dad was kind, she said.  She loved her two brothers, and misses them.  The part we really didn’t know before is that her father remarried.  The stepmother was not happy and was the reason for the relinquishing of the girls.  As Tinsae told this, I could see her eyes get very glassy.  I could see the sadness in them.  I asked one last question—was she sad to come to the orphanage.  No, she said, she was very happy.  It was better than home at that point.  I stopped the camera after that.  Tinsae started to cry.  I went over and sat by her and hugged her, and had Ahki tell her how grateful we were for her sharing this, though it was hard.  She started to sob harder.  Birhane started to sob, too, seeing her sister cry.  I started to cry too, of course.  I felt inspired to tell Tinsae, through Ahki, about how we made the decision to take them.  I hugged her and cried, and told her how the email came, and we thought and prayed all day.  I told her how at the end of the day I had suddenly had a feeling that her mother in heaven was asking us to take her girls, telling us they would make our family happy.  Then we called and accepted them right away.  This is all very personal.  I hope Tinsae, someday, won’t mind me sharing.

The room was sad and pretty quickly we decided we better get outside and have some serious play.  I thanked Tinsae again for her five minutes of difficult remembering, and we went out the door.  This is where the happy really began.  We played ball and jump-roped for an hour.  We had many really hard laughs, like when Steve was filming Birhane playing with one ball, and the other kids’ soccer ball came flying over and gave him a perfect header.  We had a genuine, great time.  We discovered that Tinsae knows a lot more English than we thought.  She can be a bit of a translator herself.  We had a good dinner—Orange Fanta familiar, Sprite quite a shocker!—and then it was shower time.  I had had Ahki warn them about this because I didn’t want them to feel scared.  I also had him tell them I would have to rub scabies cream all over them.  They loved the shower.  Lot’s of screams, which I think came from the warm water, believe it or not.  After I washed them all, head to toe, they then proceeded to re-wash themselves several times—funny.  At this rate we’ll go through a lot of body wash!  I still have a lot to learn about hair—and so do the girls.  I had a new experience washing theirs, and they both wanted to experiment with mine. 

One of the best parts of the night was that I finally got to sing that favorite lullaby to them, the one that is only for adopted children and that I’ve been saving all my life.  Yes, (Emily R), from The Rescuers.  The gist of it is something like:

Be brave, little one.  Make a wish for each sad, little tear.  Hold your head up, though no one is near.  Someone’s waiting for you.  Don’t cry little one.  Make a smile where a frown used to be.  You’ll be part of the love that you see.  Someone’s waiting for you. 

Always keep a little prayer in your pocket, and you’re sure to see it start.  Soon there’ll be joy and happiness and you, little one, will be part. 

Be brave, little one.  Till your hopes, and your wishes come true.  You must try to be brave, little one.  Someone’s waiting to love you. 

Choosing laughter and hope in the face of sadness and loneliness seems, to me, to be true bravery.  How lucky am I to have such brave little girls.  And, such bravery from Jasper and Ruby for welcoming them. 

Gosh, I’m sappy tonight.  These are the things that, for me as a writer, are much easier to share in words than in person.  Allow me, just once in a while.

Lest you think I’m being selfish:  I asked if Steve wanted to add his own post and he declined.  He did say,

“I agree with everything you said.  I would add that, although the experience has been very calm and surprisingly easy with the girls, I felt a surprising flood of emotion at the orphanage today which I was not expecting.  I suddenly felt overwhelming gratitude to the nurses and doctors and teachers, and even the housekeepers and guards, at the orphanage for how well them seemed to know and care about these two little orphan girls.  As we thanked them, both in their language and ours, I wanted it to feel like the most heartfelt thanks I could give.  The only way I could do that was to offer their traditional greeting of touching cheek to cheek, hoping that would communicate my sincerity.  While I thought I would feel those kind of emotions sooner—say, the first time we met the girls—it was realizing they were saying goodbye to the people who had shown them true love that they needed it most that brought the lump to my throat.  It was so thrilling to see Tinsae continuing to look out the window for anyone she knew so she could wave excitedly at them.  As we looked through the photo album in the car, the one we had sent the girls a few weeks ago, it was clear they had every photo memorized.  Birhane pointed at the picture of herself and said, ‘Good photo.  Good photo.’  Speaking of other funny things Birhane has said so far, when we were outside an airplane flew overhead.  We pointed and said, ‘airplane.’  But Birhane needed no help.  She was already yelling, ‘Ethiopian Airlines!  Ethiopian Airlines!’  Bottom line, I was struck with wondering how do you help them understand how much we want to help them.  Especially during the brief interview today, when I got back from getting another camera battery and found the mood in the room heavy and everyone crying, including Birhane, I just wanted them to know we would comfort them.  I hope they see that, just like we hug Jasper and Ruby when they cry, we’ll hug Tinsae and Birhane when they cry.

Like I said, I don’t have anything to add.”

Thanks for all the comments.  They mean the world to us.  It’s been a challenge to find the time and means to blog everyday from Ethiopia, but I’m very grateful I’ve made the effort. This is one of the only important times in my life when I haven’t felt guilty for not recorded more about it. Thanks for encouraging me, everyone.

First, a few notes to add to previous posts:

Photos
Often we are not able to add photos to the blog till after I write, because they take FOREVER (as in go cook dinner and come back!) to upload here. So be sure to check the last couple of posts for photos added after the fact.


2. Vomit and Gaetcho
I can’t believe I forgot to mention yesterday that Jasper vomited—ROYALLY—in the van yesterday morning. He had taken his malaria meds about 20 minutes before breakfast, and they are pretty rotten on an empty stomach. He felt fine till he’d finished his whole plate of scrambled eggs, then suddenly thought maybe he’d eaten too fast. We got in the van to head to the airport and pick up our luggage. Jasper was lying down because he didn’t feel good, and we were pretty much ignoring him and telling him he’d be fine. All of a sudden he sat up and spewed all over the floor of the van. It was so powerful it even hit Steve’s shoulder and Ruby’s hair, two rows ahead. I yelled at Gaetcho to pull over, which he did immediately to an angry honk. Jasper hopped out of the car and proceeded to throw up three more times. Afterward he felt great, of course.

We had to go straight on to the airport, where Gaetcho (pronounced Gay-Cho) had no way to clean out the van. We then went to the embassy, and returned immediately because they were closed, so Gaetcho again had no chance to clean out the van. Finally, while we were meeting the girls at the orphanage, Gaetcho went somewhere and hosed it out (that’s how they clean cars at the car wash here—routinely hose out the entire interior. Perhaps you should try it at Jolley’s Car Wash, Williams?). Luckily, it wasn’t very smelly. We apologized all over ourselves and offered to clean it, but Gaetcho refused.

Then, at our next stop, the Internet Café for blogging, there was no room for the kids to stand inside with us. Gaetcho ended up tended our kids out in the waiting area (with 7ups) for an hour. This is not his job—he is just the driver. But our translator/host had not been able to make it yesterday. By the end of the day, we had dragged Gaetcho around for 7 hours. Throughout that whole time, we peppered him with a gazillion questions while he drove—translation and otherwise. Mom and Dad, you know me and my tremendous ability to berate people with questions. Well, I’m so curious I can’t resist being in top form here. Abebe, the lawyer, got very frustrated with me yesterday and told me not to pester him. As if I don’t have a right to understand my own adoption?! Anyway, Gaetcho bore the brunt. Though you don’t have to at this guest house, we ended up giving Gaetcho a 100 Birr tip. That’s only about 8 dollars. And Ethiopia is not as cheap as you’d think—today I spent more on a couple interim outfits for the girls than I would have at Target. Oh, well. Any-anyway, tonight we found out Gaetcho’s wife of 27 years died five years ago, of liver cancer. She was only ill for 20 days. He misses her very much. It was very sad to hear about. He is really a great person. Our experience here would be very different without such people to trust.



Long Live King Charles
I forgot to mention yesterday that I made sure I wore Charles’ necklace to meet the girls, just so we’d all be there for the event. This is a necklace put together from a locket my cousin Jenny gave me after Charles’ death, and a silver plate with his name and birth date my sister Rachel gave me after his death. They make a very lovely necklace together. I noticed the girls looking at it and playing with it yesterday, so today I had Ahki explain to them what it meant. I could tell that Ahki said, “So really there are five in your new family.”


Brother
It probably will never come to anything, but I did tell Abebe yesterday that we would like to know if Tinsae and Birhane’s brother is ever given up by his father. Their paperwork lists two brothers, about 14 and 7. The older is mostly independent I’m sure, but we wondered if the 7 year old may someday be relinquished like the girls. Just in case, we wanted to make sure we would be notified if it ever happened.


Today, Tuesday

Last night as I lay in bed I felt that emotional exhaustion that I always feel when I move, or plan a big party, or accept a new job, or have a new pregnancy, or anything big. After the adrenaline wears off, I think, “Nevermind. That was fun idea, but I don’t want to do it anymore.” I used to entertain these thoughts and freak out a bit, but I have learned over the years, with Steve’s help, to ignore those feelings until the morning. I felt that way last night. But sure enough, I didn’t feel it when we saw the girls again today. I felt comfortable and whelmed again. (I mean that I no longer felt overwhelmed, but I certainly wasn’t feeling underwhelmed. It was just good. So, whelmed.)

We started bright and early because Abebe said we should meet him at the embassy at 9:00. This time it was open and he tried to explain our situation in Amharic. It clearly wasn’t going well, so I stepped in and explained in English, and the woman understood fine and answered that another division would have to take our fingerprints. So, we made an appointment for tomorrow at 1:30. Yes, a third trip to the embassy but at least this time it is a real appointment. I believe our wish of being fingerprinted will finally come true tomorrow. Have you all ever been to a US embassy before? I hadn’t but I’ve read several instances in books of Americans abroad fleeing to the US embassy for safety. I don’t know if you really could run in for safety because you have to pass single-file through a couple layers of metal detectors and guards. But once you’re in, it is an odd feeling to be escorted past all the waiting crowds right inside and to the front because you are a US citizen. It makes that navy blue passport feel like gold. I was going to post all my great photos of the embassy, but since it’s illegal to photograph it they confiscated my camera and crushed it into a million pieces. I’ll have to try again tomorrow.

(It’s also illegal to photograph the prime minister’s—formerly Haile Salassie’s—palace, but not the airport. When we landed KLM told us it was illegal to photograph the Addis Ababa airport. Our Ethiopian friends found this very funny.)

Anywhich, we were once again out of the embassy with lightning speed, so we headed straight to the orphanage. We picked up the girls, looking adorable and Tinsae with fresh braids in her hair, in a very nice sitting room. Apparently, this is where families usually meet their kids—more like we’d imagined. Yesterday another family was in the room and that necessitated our cramped office meeting. We had planned to keep the kids for just a couple hours, but this clearly made no efficient sense to Ahki from a driving point of view, so we ended up having them from 11:00-4:45. Ahki had a point—it’s a half hour each way at least to the orphanage, so visits entail a lot of wasted time and gas, and the kids don’t have to be returned until 5:00 PM.

This turned out to be a great, long visit. We first took the girls shopping for a couple of extra things because it’s clear we’re going to have them with us for more than the few days we thought. I think this was a bit overwhelming but also fun for them. Birhane gave us a very pleasant surprise when, after not speaking at all yesterday, she suddenly said “Thank you” very clearly—in English! She had obviously just picked it up and decided to try it out. She had no accent. Kids are really amazing with language. Tinsae also said “Jasper” and “Yes” in English today, which was great because we constantly say “Ow”—“Yes” in Amharic—to her, so she knows we understand it. We were very excited they were attempting so soon.


Our visit was, again, very easy. We don’t want to be naïve about the future, but so far this is going so smoothly it’s amazing. The only thing that has stressed me is the embassy! We showed them the clothes we brought for them, which Tinsae them folded and put away ever so carefully. Obviously, you don’t want to send them back to the orphanage with anything as no other kids have their own things.

We painted toenails, read books, played outside, and had nap time (this is part of the girls’ routine at the orphanage, and when we showed them the bed they got right in and went to sleep). The highlight of the day was definitely when we went outside to “show” Tinsae and Birhane how to jumprope. (Sara and Dave, the Habitat trip wasn’t a waste after all—the jumpropes have been priceless.) Jasper and Ruby made a few awkward jumps, and then I took a turn showing. Tinsae looked on with a pleasant smile. We then handed her the rope to try it, and she proceeded to skunk us all! She jumproped on one foot, then the other, then skipping, then backwards, then off a step—she’s a pro! She had a 1000-watt smile, the brightest I’ve ever seen from her. It was absolute heaven to see her delight at showing us something she is great at—something that transcends the language barrier. She and Ruby jumproped forever while Jasper and Birhane played football (soccer). That girl can throw. She would have delightedly retrieved Jasper’s kicks all day. Those two have definitely hit it off and are two peas in a pod.

We also gave the girls blow-pops, worrying they might choke on the gum. What were we thinking? Tinsae blew bubbles like a pro. This Ruby thought extremely cool.

Another highlight was watching them devour with their eyes the little kids books we’ve brought. A favorite was the board book with the caterpillar that you can stick your finger in and wiggle. Both girls had to look at the back of the book to see how the caterpillar was moving.

They came up and asked me if I wanted a massage at 2:30 because it comes with the stay. I was worried about leaving Steve alone with all the kids, but he encouraged me to go. Of course he was a pro—nobody missed me and I was glad the girls got a chance to bond with him. They’ll have plenty of me when we get home and Steve has to dig out from work.

During that hour we were apart, Steve and I both came to the same decision: we should forget about going siteseeing up North, and take the girls permanently tomorrow. It’s what the kids want, it’s what the orphanage wants, and it’s what makes sense. We weren’t going to take them for good (ie. Permanently with us at the guest house) until next week, but it’s not being as hard as we thought. What does seem hard is driving to the orphanage to visit everyday, or telling them we won’t be there one day while we sight-see. So, we’ll just take them with us and see things that we can drive to, and not fly up north. We may leave two weeks in Ethiopia without seeing its most famous and beautiful city, but we’ll definitely have had our own authentic kind of Ethiopian experience. Also, saving on the airfare will—once again—free up some cash. Jasper has been wanting a flat screen TV in our hotel room. I’ve been wanting a toilet that can handle toilet paper.

Speaking of toilet paper, we went to a very nice restaurant tonight because Jasper was homesick and we knew we could get French Fries there. The bathrooms in this nice restaurant had no seats on the toilet! I have seen both the ditches over which you squat and the toilets, but never something in between. The seats had both been purposely removed, and I wasn’t about to sit on the bowl. Such a contradiction at such a nice restaurant—the orphanage has a better bathroom!

Another highlight of today was having crystal clear phone calls with both my mom and sister Rachel, who both happened to call while we were downtown. The signal is great there, and poor at the guesthouse. Great timing, guys. Afternoons and evenings are the best time to catch us in town. Tomorrow we’ll be there about 4 PM, and Thursday we’re going to dinner downtown.

Thanks Elizabeth and Sara for calling also.  Though you can't hear us very well, we still love hearing you.

UP NEXT:
Tomorrow we will finally be fingerprinted at the embassy at 1:30. Then we’ll head to the orphanage by 3:30 for a meeting to go over the girls’ medical records. Then we’ll bring them back with us and, what? I guess, be a family forever.

Welcome to Our World, Little Girls!

All of a sudden and very casually, after a two year process, we met our new daughters today.  I say all of a sudden because we drove to the orphanage, sat casually in the office with our lawyer, and suddenly there they were, walking in the door with one of the orphanage managers.  As of this month, because of swine flu, you can no longer tour the orphanage or see the other children.  So, Tinsae and Birhane walked casually up to us with their nanny.  They were lovely, shy, but very smiley, and small.  Tinsae is a bit taller than Ruby, but she feels very slight to hug--very petite.  Birhane is a small little bundle.  They are clean, healthy, and--we were told--very excited and impatient for our arrival.  They have the photo album we sent and have loved it.  There wasn't too much to say, though we did make small talk through the attorney.  We took pictures, and just enjoyed each other for a few minutes.

When it was time to go, Ruby was tearing up and rooted herself to the ground.  She refused to leave them.  So, we took them back to our guest home with us for lunch.  Then we played magnetic paper dolls (thanks, Virginia!) in our room for a while.  It was clear they were very tired, because 12-3 is their nap time and we took them right in the middle.  When we took them back, we hugged them a lot and made sure it was clearly explained to them that we would return again tomorrow. 

Jasper and Ruby felt very comfortable, and seemed completely pleased and non-plussed by the whole affair.  Ruby told me the happiest thing in her life was getting sisters.  She also said she was a bit sad she couldn't lay on my lap anymore.  I assured her that there would always be room there for her.  She and Tinsae sat by each other and smiled and motioned to each other the whole time.  Tinsae liked to touch Ruby's hair, and mine.  Jasper loved entertaining them with his DS.  They loved to draw and take photos on it.

Steve and I keep commenting to each other how difficult it is to describe this moment.  As I said, it feels much calmer and more casual than you might expect.  It's easy to take it slow, and we plan to for the next several days and weeks.  There is a great calm, though.  I don't feel the way some do that these girls feel they have been my children forever, but then they don't feel like unnatural strangers, either.  I think it's quite like having a new baby--you don't know them, but you're ready to, and ready to learn to love them, and it all feels good.  And you feel you need one good, long nap.  Steve feels as tired today as he has in a long while.

After staying up late to settle finally on names, we decided it would be silly to mention anything about that today to the girls.  There's already so much for them to take in, so much confusion, and it's all so hard to understand.  We didn't want to uproot their identity any more.  We'll call them Tinsae and Birhane until it feels natural to introduce their new names--Saffron and Willa.  We gave them necklaces with a T and a B on them and since Tinsae has pierced ears, she wore the matching earrings too.  We also had a necklace for Ruby with an R on it.  Jasper was relieved we had a camo watch for him rather than another necklace.

Here's what happens next:  the embassy was closed today for Columbus Day (of all things!), so we were turned away and have to return tomorrow.  Yes, Abebe clearly did not make an appointment for us.  So tomorrow at 9:00 AM we'll go get fingerprinted.  Wednesday at 3:00 PM we'll meet with the orphanage nurse and go over the girls' medical files.  We may travel to the north to sightsee for a day Thursday-Friday, then be back for the weekend.  We want to take the girls to church on Sunday, and then our official adoption interview at the US Embassy is next Monday, October 19 (our anniversary).  Wednesday the 21st the girls' US entry visas should be ready.  We then will check with the British consulate to see if the girls need British visas for our overnight stay in London.  We're not sure.  If so, those should be done by Friday.  We leave Saturday evening, October 24th.

In the meantime, we  could take the girls permanently now if we wanted to.  They are ours.  We just feel it would be better to take things slow, keep visiting, and take them overnight on the weekend or beginning of next week.  But once you take them overnight, you keep them permanently--it's just too hard on them otherwise.  They worry about abandonment.  It is possible, especially if we don't need British visas, that we could leave earlier than Saturday.  However, we think the flight change fees would be cost prohibitive.  We'll most likely stick around here no matter what.  There is plenty to see around Addis.

Thanks, everyone for your support.  We love you.  It feels like the end of a long journey, and the beginning of a new one.  It feels good.