Tuesday, September 13

I have been delaying writing this post.  I am just not sure that I can adequately give account of all that's happened.  So I am just going to stick to the facts and nothing but the facts.

Olga and Boris, my two old buddies, picked us up at 8:00 a.m. sharp.  You could tell that Olga was in her element and totally on the ball.  First stop:  Office of Vital Records, to get an official adoption certificate issued, and also Alexandra's new birth certificate -- with her new name, and me as her mother listed.  The office was in the outskirts (??) of Moscow.  So hard to tell, because the city is humongous.  It was certainly not downtown, and was in the middle of a typical (albeit huge) "lakotelep".  Robin was amazed by the lakotelep (sorry, no good English word for it) -- while to me, it was just very typical.  Apparently, the office opened at 9:00 a.m.  We got there a little early, and noted the long line outside waiting for the doors to open.  Fortunately for us, Russians consider cutting in line perfectly acceptable, and even more fortunate, Olga knew exactly what to do.  She told us that she'd be first through that door, and that we should just try to get in as best we could, and wait for her (she clearly realized that we'd just be slowing her down).  So we waited for a little while, and then Olga had me go with her, and sign some papers -- not sure what.  It was obvious that Olga was on good terms with everyone in that office, and that we were getting preferential treatment.

Next stop, passport office.  Long crazy ride through virtually unending traffic jams, it was very disorienting.  Passport office was the same story -- Olga disappeared into an office, and then she motioned me inside, had me sign some papers.  Again, I noted her obvious good relationship with everyone, and her deferential tone with the government employees.

By now, it was around noon.  We dropped Olga off somewhere, and Boris took us to the orphanage.  Robin and I were giddy with excitement.  We get to the orphanage, and sit and wait.  For like an hour.  Apparently, the director/head physician  (the same one who did not make a favorable impression on me at the court hearing, and who screwed up the paperwork) was out to lunch.  We wished we could have gone to get something to eat and drink.  I kept looking towards the door where Alexandra was going to come out of, and every time it opened, I jumped.  No Alexandra, though, just the director back from lunch, eventually.

We went to her office, and she produced some handwritten ledgers.  It stupifies me that in a city that is completely covered by free Wi-fi service, where everyone is on the latest iphones, where GPS with real time updates seems to be common in cars ...that in that city, the orphanage keeps records on what looked like some ancient 18th century bookkeepers ledgers.  But I digress.  So she had some sign some stuff, apparently, that I received all medical info on Alexandra (I received none), and took custody of her and that she was in good health  (there was no sign of her).  Then, finally, the orphanage director perked up, and seemed actually interested in something.  Boris explained that we were going to the bank  (a little background explanation is necessary:  during the court hearing last month, Olga explained to me that Alexandra had a small bank account, and that as her parent, I'd be the only one who could withdraw that money.  Olga said that the money "wasn't much", and that "almost everyone leaves it for the orphanage".)  So we went to the bank, to withdraw the money.

The bank was a low point.  Robin and I have been jostled about since 8 a.m., no one once asked us if we wanted to stop to eat, drink or go to the bathroom.  Yet again, we piled into some crowded place, and were motioned to sit by the sidelines.  The bank teller for some reason took my passport, made furious notes, and demanded to know what city I was born in.  I said "Budapest", and could understand the little discussion between the teller, Boris and the orphanage director as they tried to determine what country that was in.  (none of them thought to look in my passport, where it's listed).  After a brief brainstorming session, they triumphantly agreed that it was in Bulgaria.  I didn't even care.  I got the money -- it was a little over $1500 (in rubles, of course).  We got back in the car, and the director just took the cash from me, without saying anything.  It just felt a little dirty, and I was left with the impression that maybe not all the money will be used for the orphanage.

When we got back to the orphanage, and they wanted me to give them the outfit I brought for Alexandra to take her out of the orphanage.  (I must point out that NOONE ever told me that I had to bring an outfit, I just assumed).  It was in the low 60s that day, and I brought her some jeans, a long sleeved onesie, and a hoodie.  The Russians were aghast that I didn't have a coat and a hat for her.  At that point, I was ready to scream.

So finally,  they brought Alexandra out in her new little outfit (the hoodie zipped up to her chin, to keep her as warm as possible even if her horrible new mother does not care enough to bring a proper coat for her) -- her hair all cute in four pigtails on the top of her head.  I picked her up, and she immediately got sad, and started crying.  They must have told her she was leaving.  I turned away, so she could face the caretaker lady that brought her out.  The lady was holding her hand, and was telling her goodbye, and not to be sad because she was going to have a good life with her mother.  It was heartbreaking.  Everyone was crying.

I had been told on my last trip to bring about 13 presents for the various workers at the orphanage.  My contact at the adoption agency in the US told me to give them to Olga after the court hearing and she'd distribute it as appropriate.  Olga wanted nothing to do with my presents on my last trip, so I carried them back to the US and then back to Moscow with me again.  Olga again was uninterested .  I was determined to give them away this time, so at this last moment, I handed the presents to the orphanage director, and through Boris asked her to give it to the people who had been taking care of Alexandra thus far.  The director walked off with the gifts ....again, I was left with the feeling that she'll be wearing the bracelets and necklaces I brought.

And with that, we were out the door, leaving the orphanage for the last time.  They handed us Alexandra's schedule, which even at a cursory glance was very clearly NOT her actual schedule.  They also said some random things about what she ate -- nothing particularly enlightening, other than she was eating regular food now.  She calmed down in the car, and adopted the slightly disengaged and suspicious look that later I became so familiar with.  She even fell asleep on the way back to the apartment.  And so did I.  It was just too much.

We got "home" to our little apartment, and Alexandra was in a cheery mood.  She looked cute, and sat up on the wide windowsill with us, enjoying looking down at the street below.  Later we went to dinner, and she helped herself to my curried carrot soup, eating it with great gusto and visible enjoyment.  Bathtime was a lot less fun -- she pretty much screamed the ENTIRE time.

After she went to bed, Robin and I got back on the windowsill and had a bottle of wine and some macaroons......