Now THAT'S one beautiful baby!
After our two week wait of hanging out, throwing temper tantrums, washing clothes that stayed dirty, and drying them outside for days, I was told it was time to gather the paperwork. It started with obtaining a copy of that all important court decree making us Grant's parents. Up until this point, I had nothing in my physical possession that would identify my as his mother. The translator called and said to be downstairs at 9 AM because a man named Zhanat was picking me up and taking me to get the required paperwork.
After our two week wait of hanging out, throwing temper tantrums, washing clothes that stayed dirty, and drying them outside for days, I was told it was time to gather the paperwork. It started with obtaining a copy of that all important court decree making us Grant's parents. Up until this point, I had nothing in my physical possession that would identify my as his mother. The translator called and said to be downstairs at 9 AM because a man named Zhanat was picking me up and taking me to get the required paperwork.
Zhanat was not an employee of our agency. I had never met him and yet I was supposed to get into the car with him. This made me uncomfortable at best. Zhanat came around 9 AM "Kazakh time" meaning around 2 PM. He was a nice looking, Kazakh young man wearing a suit and speaking broken English. Off we headed down the stairs and across the busy street where he flagged down a "taxi". This isn't the yellow taxi type thing. It was the "Kazakh taxi" which is a man who owned a car and was headed in our direction and could use a few extra tenge that day. We agreed on a price and hopped in. If I wasn't nervous already, I was certainly nervous now. Due to all the struggles we had had, I became not as trusting of people. To say that I didn't fully understand the culture and their way of thinking would be an understatement. I have to say, the driver was very kind even though I could not understand a word he said to me! I was told by Zhanat to stay in the car while he went inside of some of the government buildings. I still don't know what he was doing in there. Next thing I knew, we were at the courthouse and I was standing in the judge's office. I wasn't happy to be confronting him again. But true to his style, he acted as if I wasn't even in the room. He never so much as looked at me to acknowledge my presence. He battled it out in court with our Russian female coordinator, and yet he had a seemingly pleasant conversation with Zhanat! We left with the string-threaded court decree and traveled across town to obtain the new birth certificate which took 2 attempts and some tenge to acquire. After several hours of waiting in a small hallway discussing politics with Zhanat (not my choice of conversation), I was handed a birth certificate from a woman who said, "Congratulations, Mama!" in Russian. That made my day and my nerves calmer!
With the exception of the government workers, I generally enjoyed engaging with the Kazakh people. They are warm and kind once you begin your attempt at conversation and break through their initial icy demeanor. I remember walking through the market one day looking at the freshly made salads and noodles. One woman working the counter caught my attention and was handing me a bag of her salad saying, "gift! gift!". Only one example, but despite the difficult adoption, we fell in love with Grant's birth country.
We had been at the paperwork chase for many days and I was getting VERY impatient. Grant and I were dragged along to stand in lines at government offices, but had many unsuccessful attempts to obtain the rest of the paperwork we needed to leave the country. I tried my best to rant and rave through a translator explaining that I was not happy about how long it was taking. Lubyev really shouldn't have been a translator to start with and could not get my point across. Nobody understood why I was so upset! I was angry at the system and incompetent coordinators, exhausted from sleepless nights and days with a toddler who was suffering from insomnia, and anxious that we wouldn't make it home together.
I wanted Grant's passport and his exit visa ASAP. On the way over to a government building to obtain the exit visa, the coordinator handed me her cell phone. Evidently her husband or some type of acquaintance was living in the States as a practicing obstetrician. Weird, right? He was on the phone attempting to find out why I was so upset. Imagine what the coordinator was thinking with a ravingly mad woman going on and on in her backseat! Of course, I explained and the inevitable "No problem" popped out of his mouth. I handed the phone back and they spoke with each other and hung up. Next thing I know, the coordinator is saying "No problem!". Oy! We ended up at the exit visa office all day again for another round of begging and bribing. Zhanat bought Grant fruit, juice, and cookies from the street vendors as a lunch which Grant promptly gobbled down.
I wanted Grant's passport and his exit visa ASAP. On the way over to a government building to obtain the exit visa, the coordinator handed me her cell phone. Evidently her husband or some type of acquaintance was living in the States as a practicing obstetrician. Weird, right? He was on the phone attempting to find out why I was so upset. Imagine what the coordinator was thinking with a ravingly mad woman going on and on in her backseat! Of course, I explained and the inevitable "No problem" popped out of his mouth. I handed the phone back and they spoke with each other and hung up. Next thing I know, the coordinator is saying "No problem!". Oy! We ended up at the exit visa office all day again for another round of begging and bribing. Zhanat bought Grant fruit, juice, and cookies from the street vendors as a lunch which Grant promptly gobbled down.
Exhausted, I remember walking back and forth from waiting in line, being taken back to a storage room, being put back in line, attempting different windows for help, and only hearing "NYET!" (NO). We weren't getting ANYWHERE with Grant's exit visa. Around the seventh hour, the coordinator had Zhanat stay with me and attempted an impromptu appointment with the man in charge. Zhanat instructed me to stand back, stay quiet, and let him do the speaking. Zhanat had been holding Grant for me as we were waiting to be seen. Just as the secretary told us we could go in, I noticed one foul smell and a huge disgusting mess all down Grant's clothes and Zhanat's suit. As we stood up, Grant's had a projectile vomiting mess as well. I could not believe this was happening right then! Talk about bad timing! Then again, it may have been perfect timing! I had used all the wipes I had already so I grabbed some tissues and we went into the office. You can only imagine the smell. We were a disgusting sight.
You see, this was our last and only hope of getting an exit visa that day, and I was desperate to go home. We walked into a military official's office. The uniformed man stood and greeted Zhanat, but never even recognized that I or Grant were in the room at all. I wonder if I'm getting this response because I'm a woman or because I'm a foreigner? Zhanat's argument for me was that Grant needed medical care given by a Western trained doctor as soon as possible. He had a heart condition and what appeared to be cerebral palsy type illness listed on his medical forms. I think the whole vomit and diarrhea incident made this "gentleman" sign off rather quickly. Whew! Thank you, Jesus, for taking care of us!
About a week and a half and lots of "twenties" went by trying to gather the correct paperwork. I knew the Kazakh passport and the exit visa were important, but didn't realize until later that I didn't have all of the paperwork I needed at all.
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