Operation Kazakhstan

Mission Accomplished

2008-03-14T04:25:00.000-07:00

In the dark hours of the early morning, I arrived in Kazakhstan once again. A car was waiting for me at the terminal curb, and I was driven directly from the Almaty airport to Andrei’s arrival at the train station. Andrei was groggy and confused, but his surrender into my arms said that he was happy to see me. I was almost giddy about seeing him, having endured so much anticipation about bringing him home. Andrei and I were then taken to our temporary apartment where we would stay until our departure for America.
Andrei and I were only supposed to stay in Almaty for a few days, but after a delayed embassy appointment and a flight cancellation, our sojourn lasted for nearly a week. In spite of the extended wait, the time we spent was good. The weather was much nicer than we (I) expected and our inner city locale provided many opportunities for wandering and goofing off. It was liberating to share this time and space with Andrei outside the confines of the orphanage.
The flight home proved to be difficult. In fact, I am going to hang myself out and say that the flight home with Andrei was the single most difficult thing I have ever done. Poor Andrei is wary of strangers and quickly decided that he liked the thrusting and turbulent airplane even less. Factoring in the requisite discomfort and fatigue, the stresses of long-distance travel pushed him to his limits. Twenty-seven hours later, we made it.
Since being home, Andrei has taken remarkably well to our family, and especially of Edward. I don’t understand the wavelength that passes between the kindred spirits of youth, but there is something easy and playful that can’t be mimicked with an authority figure. When Edward is on the trampoline with Andrei, Andrei couldn’t laugh harder. And when Edward is putting on his shoes for school, little Andrei is sliding on the first shoe he can find so he can go to school, too. Life is good.

Parting Shots from Bavaria

2008-03-03T03:38:00.000-08:00

Operation Kazakhstan: The Final Chapter

2008-02-29T08:49:00.000-08:00

Word has finally been received that the U.S. Embassy in Kazakhstan is prepared to issue Andrei his immigration visa to America. Gaining this visa will be the long anticipated conclusion to the patient and enduring process of bringing Andrei home to our family. I will soon return to Kazakhstan - this time without Becky - and will be reunited with Andrei in Almaty for the first time since Becky and I left Karaganda a few weeks earlier. I can only imagine Andrei’s bewilderment when he sees me, surely not understanding where I have been all this time. I can also imagine this will not be the only source of his confusion, having just been uprooted from the only existence he can recall in the Karaganda orphanage.
But Andrei is not home yet. Before leaving Kazakhstan, he must submit to an exit health exam, and the two of us will face up to Embassy officials as they interview us (me) prior to the issuance of the visa. In all, Andrei and I will spend maybe three days in Almaty before we board our flight back to America. As in Karaganda, the winter is harsh in Almaty, and the days spent here will certainly not be the most pleasurable that we will share. Additionally, I will have to combat my anxieties about the long travel home (a potential ordeal with a two-year-old child). To quell this anxiety, I have been preparing myself by internally chanting: “this is all about Andrei, and the hardships and discomforts are temporary,” over and over again.
For the next few days until my departure to Almaty, I will spend my time hovering between two separate realities: my more recent inhabitance of a Bavarian mountain valley in southern Germany, and my mental anticipations of Kazakhstan and America. I am currently staying with my friend Thorsten in an 18th century farm house near Bad Tölz, not far from the Austrian border. With an early spring arrival, the local farming scene has come to life, preparing and fertilizing the patchworks of pasteur for the season’s hay production and grazing. Farmers, wives, tractors and animals have been mobilized, and it has been pacifying for my mind and soul to spectate the time-old dance that has been so integral to European (and human) development. This classic Bavarian reprieve has afforded me the rest and reserve I will need for the events to come.
In all, Operation Kazakhstan has been a wild experience. From the struggles of Kazakhstan to the riches of Europe, I have been able to place foot and finger upon the places and lifestyles I had known only from books. But I long to be with my family now, wearied by our separation across the globe. More than ever, I am ready to “mission accomplish”, and introduce Andrei to Edward as well as our American home. Fortunately, the time will be soon.

Charles

Images from Bavaria

2008-02-29T08:29:00.000-08:00

A European Odyssey

2008-02-21T17:17:00.001-08:00

With Becky recently gone for home from our European visit, I remain in the Wuppertal river valley of the German foothills above the city of Cologne. Our friends, Thorsten and Jovanka, with whom we have shared many experiences over the course of a decade, greeted us in Amsterdam and carried us back to their home in this story-book German setting. While Becky was still with us, we embarked on an essential European experience: visiting a late medieval castle in Schlossburg, marveling at the great gothic Cathedral in Cologne, and even witnessing a host of well-known female rockclimbers pit their strengths at a nearby competition (something innately European). I am already missing Becky, having just shared the experience of a lifetime in Kazakhstan, and look forward to the assembly of our new family to be united. For now, I will delve and ponder the ways and wonders of European life as I await my return to Almaty.
Germany is an exemplary example of European lifestyle and the rich world at large. People here take great care to ensure a high quality of life, and the examples range from the superb breads, meats and cheeses that arrive at our dinner table to the immaculate landscapes and details of their homes. Even the quality of the roads here is extraordinary, something especially noticeable when you are shotgunning a mid-range BMW down the Autobahn at 125mph. Nothing that Becky and I saw in Kazakhstan could compare to level of sophistication that this society employs. It is interesting to consider that during the thousand year interim between the shattering of the Roman Empire and the emergence of the Italian Renaissance - a period known as the Middle Ages - Germania, as it was then known, was among the more depressed regions of the civilized world. A bit of European history helps to lay the framework:
The Middle Ages was when modern Europe began to take shape. After the fall of Rome (for which the fatal blow was dealt by Germanic tribes), continental Europe, particularly north of the Alps, fragmented into thousands of independent feudal communities. Where Rome was a civilized society with literacy, art and architecture such that the world had never known, the Middle Ages regressed to a pre-civilized state of sustenance farming and superstitious preoccupation. As farm production gradually improved and figures such as King Charlemagne of the Franks began to set a new state building precedent, the wealth that had continued to float on the Mediterranean Sea, as drifting from the Silk Road and the Byzantine Empire, started to find its way back to Europe.
The Bubonic Plague, or Black Death as it is commonly called, arguably kicked off a new dawn for late medieval Europe. A deadly disease that found its way into the West after traveling along the Silk Road from China, the Black Death reduced the European population by nearly half. The severe reduction in size of the European labor class effectively overhauled the “social contract” as feudal farm tenants suddenly gained a greater value in society. Eventually, this bottom up restructuring gave rise to a bourgeoisie middle-class, an important development for the free-thinking minds that would later contribute to the Age of Enlightenment, a period of heightened philosophic and scientific inquiry.
The Age of Enlightenment is considered by many to be the turning point from which Western civilization pulled away from the rest of the world. No longer content with the Biblical explanations of the natural world, Enlightenment thinkers began to rally over many of the great unsolved problems, such as the role of the earth in the physical universe, and the evolution of man and biological species. As scientific understanding increased, manipulation over nature also increased. This movement is expressed in the burst of industrialized effort from this period. But this era of problem solving wouldn’t stay bound to the confines of Europe for long. New knowledge about maritime navigation and the spherical nature of the globe pushed European colonial efforts to ever expanding frontiers until the Western influence was felt the world over. Years later, a circumstantial power shift would give favor to one of these European colonies, and America would emerge to become the greatest globalizing power of all time. It will be interesting to see where this power lies in the future.
Germany is an interesting vantage point from which to cast this survey of historical perspective. Despite a couple of bad episodes that still reverberate through the modern day (read the World Wars), Germany is a country that holds deeply to its national heritage. The people here are still in the thrall of a way of living that must have held steady through their ancestral ages: the mandatory look in the eye upon mealtime “cheers”, the kiss on the cheek upon friendly greetings, and the tactful deliberations among casual friends (not to mention a love for sausages, a weariness of the “Franks” and “Hollandaise”, and a penchant for BMWs).
Near Jovanka’s flat in Wuppertal, there is a footpath that leads to a nearby forest. Every morning, I like to walk there, musing at the ornate and picturesque German houses along the way. From the far edge of the forest floor, I can see the rolling hills of the most beautifully manicured farmland I have ever seen. My imagination runs wild during this time, thinking through the ages of European development, about America’s rise to colonial and world domination, and about how places like Kazakhstan got left behind. Despite my being enamored with this place that is not my home, I consider myself immensely lucky to be American, and I hope that Andrei will grow to feel the same way.

Europe

2008-02-18T14:32:00.001-08:00

Postcard to Edward

2008-02-11T23:15:00.000-08:00

Edward, our 7-year old son, has been a trooper extraordinaire throughout the entire process of Andrei’s adoption. He has been staying with my folks in Salt Lake City, and the reports that Becky and I receive have told a story of how grown up this young man is becoming. Edward has consistently readied himself for school in the morning, and has taken responsibility for his school work with only minimal hounding. Edward has undoubtedly missed Becky and I, as we have intensely missed him, but it sounds as though he has kept his cool and acted like the young man that he is.
Edward has been skiing this year for The Canyons Summit Ski Team. This last weekend, our family friend Patrick took Edward to one of his races at Brighton. We are told that he had a great run and was also a great sport. Edward is an awesome skier and is certain to be an awesome big brother as well.

We love you Edward!

Mom and Dad

Farewell to Karaganda

2008-02-11T19:03:00.000-08:00

As our bags are packed and internet connection soon to be broken, the time has come for Becky and I to cast our farewell to Karaganda. Operation Kazakhstan has been about the addition of a new life to our American family, and I hope the pages of this web-log have helped to chronicle the adventure thus far. Andrei is a gift; something beyond our wildest expectations and something Becky and I are deeply grateful for. Thanks to those who have shared in the experience with us.

Field Report: Special Agent Andrei

2008-02-08T06:03:00.003-08:00

Andrei was taken into custody at the Karaganda orphanage in July 2007, when he was about seventeen months old. Becky and I don’t know the details of his past except that his parent’s legal custody rights were relinquished to the state of Kazakhstan when he entered the orphanage. Six months later, Andrei made his first appearance to a group of adoptive parents that had traveled halfway around the world from America. Becky and I were among these parents.
Visiting the orphanage that day was an anxious time for Becky and I. Still jet lagged from the long journey that concluded only the night before, our stomachs were in our throats and our senses were adrift with delirium. The tarnished corridors of the old Russian orphanage were straight out of a Cold War movie and added a thickness to the emotions we were trying to compress. Soon, we were introduced to Rosa, the director of the orphanage, and Larisa, the adoption facilitator. Larisa, a very tactful woman whom I have come to understand is infamous for her curtness, gave Becky and I, along with the three other fellow American parents, a brief rundown about the child selection process. Shortly thereafter, a trickle of children started streaming in for us to see.
Blankets were laid on the floor and one by one, the orphanage care-givers started bringing in these stunning little Kazakh babies. Most were able to prop themselves on their elbows and hands and some were able crawl about and creep up on our pant legs. Before long, the room seemed flooded with babies and I watched Becky go haywire, hugging and adoring every last one of them. This was obviously a dangerous scene for a woman with ‘the fever’. Then came in a few toddlers, something Becky and I weren’t sure we could expect.
Of the toddlers, there were two little boys and a girl. Becky and I thought that we would like to adopt a toddler, but were told that the availability was unpredictable and not something we could count on. Days before leaving for Kazakhstan, we were told that we probably needed to fix our minds on adopting a baby.

As I watched Becky continue to wallow in babies from across the room, I turned my attention to the new arrivals. In particular, I tried to divide my attention between the two boys (the girl toddler, Anya, was already beginning to create a stir among the other parents). The smaller of the boys had ice blue eyes and blond hair - Andrei, as it turned out. Upon entering the room, he was immediately busy gathering toys and scuttling about. He genuinely seemed to be a good kid and instinctively I felt he might be good candidate for Becky and I. However, with so many options cruising around the room, I was hesitant to isolate any of the children just yet.
The other boy, a taller kid with brown hair, was also busy gathering toys, and having ‘bookmarked’ Andrei for later inspection, I decided to go ahead and try to acquaint myself with him. Despite my deliberate effort, I found myself completely unable to attract his attention. At maybe three-years of age, the brown haired boy had the dark bags of trauma hanging below his eyes and I could only guess that he was suffering from some degree of detachment disorder. Becky and I have been told that there is a special league of parents that are willing to take on a child like this, but it is a different type of adoptive game; ‘masters-chess’ if you will. Such an adoption would be beyond what our social-worker back in Salt Lake City advised for us. Meanwhile, I continued to take notice of the teasing that Andrei intermittently directed towards me. At one point, Andrei even offered a toy for my own amusement. While Andrei seemed to offer a positive impression of himself, I was beginning to wonder if Becky had set herself on a different course. As far as I could tell, she was sinking rather deep in a tide of babies.
Feeling like I had a working idea of what was going in Toddlerville, I broke off to see how Becky was fairing. At this moment, she was holding two babies, one in each arm and passed one off to me so she could pick up another. Fun and games, I thought. Again, this was a dangerous scene.
By the time the orphanage medical doctor began to read-off the medical reports for the children of interest, Becky and I decided it was time to get serious. Little did I realize, but while Becky was getting carried away with her baby-wrangling, she had also been eyeing little Andrei. I guess we were deciding to stick to our original intentions after all. Becky and I then gravitated to Andrei in an attempt to affirm what we were already sensing about him. With Becky and I now together and receiving the full dose of Andrei’s charm, we were starting to see the light. Andrei was definitely glowing before us. It took no time flat and we knew for certain that he was the one.
To my mind, agreeing on a child that both Becky and I could embrace as a suitable addition to our family would be the crux of our journey to Kazakhstan. As it turned out, accepting Andrei to be our own was the easy part. For the next two weeks, Becky, Andrei and I would spend a substantial amount of time together trying to forge a bond among strangers that we could carry back to a permanent existence in America. Getting to know the fickle and whims of a two-year-old child that has already learned an array of survival skills in an old Soviet orphanage has proved to have its challenges. In the beginning, everything was new and good and we were all having a really nice time.
Becky’s love affair with Andrei was nearly immediate. She has a gift for the subtle amusements of play. Her games might include: “stuffed animal storytime”, “mom’s restaurant”, and helping to make fun with the perennial classic, “all the little toy people getting stuffed in the little toy house by Andrei-the-Giant”. Andrei quickly grew to adore Becky and it was easy to see that these two would go far. My relationship with Andrei was a bit more uphill. As a masculine figure, I represent something of an alien to a boy who has been living exclusively under the feminine care of the orphanage establishment. Larisa, the adoption facilitator, forewarned me that this would be a hurdle to overcome. Fortunately, Andrei’s basel temperament is inherently good natured, allowing me to make inroads with him at a steady pace. However, after the first week came a confrontation that damaged some of the bond between Andrei and I.

One afternoon, Andrei began to throw some nesting bowls in a tyrannical manner. I told him twice to stop, and in utter defiance, he continued to throw the bowls. Firmly, I extracted the bowls from his grasp, and shelved them out of his reach, no longer rebuking him but gazing coldly into his eyes, as if challenging him to push me further. He held my eyes, and after a 45-second stand off, I could see him physically bow down and emotionally sour. I may have won the match, but it was apparent to me that my hammer might have been too heavy. I felt a weakening of the goodwill that had been slowly generating between us and it took a couple days for Andrei and I to recoup what we had lost. An upshot to this is that I think I have a better sense of where his personal will lies and can hopefully better gauge the disciplinary pressure to apply in the future. Already, I like to believe this small tribulation has opened a space for us to reach a new high watermark in our relationship.

Andrei is an incredibly good little boy. Uncannily, he reminds us a great deal of Edward when he was two. The primary challenge ahead of Andrei is getting his English speech at a par with his Russian. This will not be a great feat for him though, as his Russian is still mostly jibber-jabber peppered with a variety of his more practiced words. Some of Andrei’s favorite words include “peet” (a drink), or “paka” (see you later), and “garyachee!” (hot! - a common response in mom’s restaurant).
As of this writing, Becky and I are winding down with the final signatures and appearances necessary to finalize our adoption of Andrei. Our time with Andrei in Karaganda is also drawing to a close. Andrei and I will reconvene 3-4 weeks later in Almaty, once his U.S. emigration visa has been completed. As a swan-song to Becky and I, the orphanage will host a small party that will be attended by all of the people in Karaganda that have helped us along the way: Rosa, Larisa, and Olga (the director, facilitator and Russian interpreter for the orphanage), and all of the care-givers, many of whom work behind the scenes. From the party, Becky and I are off to the airport and on to Europe where we will meet our dear friends from Germany, Thorsten and Jovanka, for a long awaited visit on their home turf.
After spending some time with our friends, Becky will return to the States and to her work. Andre will remain at the Karaganda orphanage as other prospective parents arrive to adopt more of the awaiting children. I will bide away in Europe, keeping vigil until I am summoned to Almaty for the last strokes of paperwork at the U.S. Embassy in Kazakhstan. As I make my return flight back to Almaty, Andrei and his escort will be on an old Soviet railway, crossing the great steppes of Kazakhstan to meet me. I can’t wait to get this little bugger home.

Charles and Becky

Operation Kazakhstan Daily Summary

2008-02-04T04:22:00.000-08:00

Now that Becky and I have managed to find our footing in Karaganda, we figure the time has come to do a bit of explaining about our daily doings:

Becky and I begin each day with a morning routine that includes a bay-window breakfast, a little personal scrubbing, and a glimpse of e-mail while we wait for our driver, Vladimir, to pick us up at a quarter of ten. Meanwhile, Andrei is also getting his day along with his eleven roommates: getting cleaned up and dressed in their winter layers (an ordeal as we have seen), eating porridge (I’m not kidding), and a morning group activity such as Russian story-time, Russian Sesame Street on the tube, or singing Russian songs to a piano accompaniment. While discussing Andrei’s morning routine, it is important to note that at twenty-three months Andrei is completely potty-trained, dresses himself, washes his own hands and face, sips his juice from an open cup with out spilling... What do these orphanage care-givers know that the rest of us don’t? I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it firsthand.

Becky and I arrive at the orphanage around ten. We take our boots and coats up to the playroom where we spend our daily visit, then carry off down the hall to retrieve little Andrei from his quarters. Andrei’s group activity is usually wrapping up by the time we arrive. To our continual surprise, we are then welcomed into Andrei’s quarters by the caregivers where we are greeted by the eager eyes of the children. As so many of the children at the Karaganda orphanage are not eligible for adoption due to various reasons, Andrei is the only one of his bunch that is currently undergoing the adoptive process. Therefore, it is a bit distressing to me when the kids call out to us as “mama” and “papa” (these Russian words are the same). I don’t understand why we are granted such unobstructed access, but I must say it is immensely interesting to see the habitat in which Andrei spends the bulk of his time. Having spent ten days with Andrei at the time of this writing, Andrei is running for us the moment we enter his room. It is quite a heady scene. Andrei’s quarters include a bedroom with two rows of beds for 'the little dwarves', a tiled area with a pint-sized wash-basin, two mini toilettes, a washing machine, and a cubby with a hook for each child’s cup, washcloth and clothes. There is also a common area with tables for eating and activities, and a carpet area for story-time and singing. Other scheduled events, such as music recitals and holiday programs are held in one of the larger common rooms of the orphanage.

Back at the visitation playroom, Becky, Andrei and I set about for a two hour session of unadulterated monkeying: balloon badminton, magic coin tricks, rifling through mom’s purse for goodies. We share our playroom with another family (that also happens to be from Utah) who are in the process of adopting baby twins. Generally speaking, it is a very pleasant, if somewhat tiring two hours. Our play session lasts until noon, and then everybody takes an extended European-style lunch break. Becky and I walk Andrei back to his quarters--swinging him between us like we used to do Edward when he was little--and return him to his comrades for more playtime, lunch, and a nap. Vladimir waits for us outside the building while we visit with Andrei, smoking cigarettes and telling Kazakhstan horse-stories with the other drivers. Becky and I catch a ride back to our apartment to eat lunch, then either go for a walk, watch the latest Kazakhstani music videos, decipher food labels at the grocery store, read, or nap. As far as Becky and I can tell, there are five other families, four from the U.S. and one from Spain, that are on a similar routine.

Returning to the orphanage at four, the afternoon session goes much like the morning: two-year-old dancing to an Ipod speaker, dumping out mom’s coin purse, playing peek-a-boo over the back of and old chair. During the afternoon session, the winter sun eventually sets through the room’s large south facing windows. By this time, I think everybody is finished for the day. Andrei gives Becky and I each a hug and a smacker for the road, and never fusses about returning to the other kids. As Becky and I leave the orphanage, the whole operation is winding down.

As Andrei and his homies begin their way to bed after a final bowl of porridge, Becky and I usually settle in for an uneventful evening of dinner, books, and maybe a DVD. We have gone out to dinner a couple of times with the other parents and have had a really nice time. The food here is excellent and actually quite cheap. In a Turkish restaurant one evening, we even enjoyed some live music care of the local talent. Pretty cool stuff.

Becky and I have ten more days in Karaganda, making for a total of three weeks. Our time spent in this old Soviet outpost has been enough for us to gain a fresh perspective on what it means to be American, something I will discuss further in a future post.

Charles and Becky

Post Script:
The Karaganda orphanage houses about a hundred and fifty children. Ages range from newborns to five years. I don’t know the percentage of kids that are eligible for adoption, but I get the impression it is surprisingly low. As long as a family member visits a child once every six months, the biological parents’ legal custody is preserved and the state will continue to care for the child as long as necessary. Beyond the age of five or six, kids are transfered to another orphanage that will continue to house them until the age of sixteen. From there, we are told, national military service is one of the more common avenues into the outside world.

Declassified Photographs

2008-02-02T22:46:00.001-08:00

Andrei

2008-01-31T04:35:00.001-08:00

At the end of each day’s visit with Andrei, I like to seize just a moment before we part to give him a reassuring look in the eye and a good, deliberate hug followed by a kiss on the cheek. From the beginning, Andrei has been receptive to this, but slow to return the embrace as I don’t think he has had many hugs before. More and more, though, he has been hugging me back and today, he took it a step further. After I gave him his kiss, he pressed his mouth to my cheek, then gave me a delayed puckered smack, as if this was something experimental, something he had not done before. Becky, witnessing this, called for her turn and took little Andrei into her arms. Andrei promptly gave her the same treatment, this time more deftly.

Andrei’s caregivers are truly remarkable and I have a great deal of praise for the job that they do. But with so many children and such a range of needs, it is a sad fact of orphanage life that there is only so much that the caregivers can provide, particularly in the emotional realm. To witness the kids that are undergoing the adoptive process--some of whom are understandably withdrawn--surrender themselves to the affection of the new parents is very much a spectacle in transformation. Becky and I are immensely happy to see Andrei coming around.

Charles and Becky

Attention:
Becky and I may have neglected to address some of the obvious questions that are sure to arise as we post our web-log entries. If there are any such questions, please feel free to leave a comment at the tail-end of our posts. Becky and I will make sure to address them.
Coming up is a better detail of the daily routine for Andrei, Becky and I, and also some more story time about Karaganda.

Declassified Photographs

2008-01-30T05:50:00.002-08:00

The Top Ten Things We Have Learned in Kazakhstan

2008-01-28T04:57:00.001-08:00

A Super Brief History:

Kazakhstan is a vast area of northern latitude ‘steppe’, or grassland, and is much the same landscape commonly associated with neighboring Mongolia. In fact, the native peoples of Kazakhstan are of close kinship with the Mongolians thanks to the virility of Ghengis Khan and the many other passing hordes of Mongolian hell-raisers. The large swath of steppe that encompasses Kazakhstan is believed by historians to be the scene of the original domestication of the horse. Horseback riding is a national pastime in Kazakhstan and the horse is also part of the traditional cuisine.
As history progressed into the 1800s, and Russia pushed the frontiers of its expanding empire into Central Asia, Kazakhstan gradually succumbed to its sovereignty. During the interim between the World Wars, Stalinist Russia engaged in an abrupt transformation and the Iron Curtain fell over Kazakhstan. The USSR collapsed in 1991, freeing many of the non-indigenous citizens to leave, and Kazakhstan struggling to rediscover its own identity. Still, however, the Russian influence is huge.

Without further ado, Charles and Becky's observations and musings:

1) Your chauffeur is the perfect victim for testing your pigeon Russian: you have him right where you want him and he knows no English to bail you out. (Poor Vladimir, our driver, must cringe as he rear-view-mirrors us flipping feverishly through our Russian dictionary.)

2) White Kazakh anyone? It’s the new Ryon-house specialty! Warning: Even vodka and coffee liqueur cannot rectify the potent off-color taste of horse milk.

3) The Clean Air Act is our friend. The apparent lack of automobile and industrial emission standards in Karaganda blankets the area in a thick haze and gives even the snow a greyish hue.

4) The animal has to stand still for the meat to be tender. This may help to explain why the galloping horse hasn’t won over the cow for your rib-eye steak. I (Charles) bought some deli-sliced horse meat at the supermarket, and it was chewy enough for the first bite to last through an entire episode of The Brady Bunch (dubbed in Russian).

5) Being able the to read the cooking directions is not necessary for making good food. The nightmare strings of Russian Cyrillic characters of the back of food packages didn’t keep us from inventing a new dish every night.

6) A jacuzzi without warm water just isn’t the same. Have you ever heard the saying that you can’t warm a cup of cold coffee with a teaspoon of hot water? Becky and I could not produce enough pots of stove heated water to make this thing worth while.

7) Don’t take your high speed internet for granted. I did manage, however, to produce at least a few pots of water while my email pages loaded.

8) Don’t judge a glass of water by its color (or maybe you should). While it is true that we had to boil the tap water for drinking, we weren’t aware of its true color (brown) until we produced enough of it for a luke-warm bath.

9) Beer is part of the shared human experience. Even our driver, Vladimir, who only knows the English words ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’, made sure to point out the local Karaganda brewery for what it was (in English).

10) Kids are astonishingly resilient. Witnessing the inner workings of an orphanage can be trying on anybody’s heart, but amazingly the children are still smiling, playing, and acting like children should. Even if adoptive parents are only able to provide a home for one child at a time, they are helping to support a process that will continue to find new homes for the others.

Charles and Becky

Declassified Photographs

2008-01-26T07:17:00.000-08:00

The frontside of Andrei's "ryebyonak dom" (babyhouse)

Becky getting Andrei dressed for a new day of monkeying.

For some reason, Andrei's tongue serves as an "excite-o-meter."

The Bomb Drop

2008-01-24T23:22:00.000-08:00

Well, Becky and I made it to Karaganda, if not without some hitches, and by this point in the story we have already determined our new little boy. Andrei will be two on February 22 and as you can see from the photos, is of a pure Russian stock. Andrei is a super playful and busy little guy and is super responsive to interactions with those around him. The girl in the photos, Anya, whom we have dubbed the ‘bulldozer’ for her particularly strong will, is Andrei’s playtime partner and you should hear these guys protest to one another in jibber-jabber-Russian. (Anya has been adopted by Greek lady from Philadelphia who also happens to have a strong will.)
The funny thing about Andrei is that he is not at all what Becky and I expected. We were of a belief that we would bring home a little Kazakh/Mongolian battle-axe, but when Andrei set about casting his magic, he effectively changed our minds for us; we had no say in the matter. Becky and I couldn’t be more happy. Edward cannot imagine what we are bringing home.
We will continue to visit Andrei twice daily as we remain in Karaganda. Karaganda is an immensely interesting place and we will try to share some of its details in future posts.

Charles

The Lowdown

2008-01-12T23:55:00.000-08:00

While Becky and I wait for our grand departure on Saturday, January 19, 2008, I will attempt to layout what we expect to happen:

Operation Kazakhstan will begin with a flight from Salt Lake City to Minneapolis to Amsterdam to Almaty, Kazakhstan in one fell swoop, requiring a little in excess of 24 hours for the complete trip. The orphanage, however, is not in Almaty but much further north in Karaganda, requiring yet another leg for the trip. We have a coordinated greeter that will meet us at the airport in Almaty to oversee our Karaganda connection and otherwise help to set us on a good foot in this foreign land. Due to a quirky itinerary, we will actually arrive in Almaty the night before our Karaganda flight, so Becky and I will get a hotel room and hopefully get some rest. Upon arrival in Karaganda, we will be greeted again, chauffeured to a small apartment that will be our temporary home, and will make our first visit to the orphanage the following day.
Now, as far as our to-be-adopted child is concerned, we do not have a "post-card" child that has already been determined for us. On our first day at the orphanage--to the best of my understanding--the orphans will be trooped out to greet the prospective parents, and the parents will then set about selecting which child they will claim as their own. The decision must be made on the first day. For all of those that I have explained this selection process too, I have had one of two responses: 1) "This sounds awful! I don't see how you could possibly bear to choose among..." 2) "Zen will take over and a child will emerge without you having to anguish." I think I have taken membership with the second camp. This is good enough for me and I have chosen not to worry further until the time comes.
In the wake of the selection process, we will continue to visit the orphanage daily for the following 2-weeks. Our visitations are in shifts, 2 visits per day (one in the morning and another after a European-long lunch break). I understand that in fair weather, parents are allowed to take their child back to the apartment or the market or wherever, but in the thick of January with the Siberian border just overhead to the north, I am not expecting too much gallivanting. The purpose of the visitations, of course, is to bond with the child and to meld the transition to a new home for the little one. Then comes the dreaded waiting period: the month long period needed to satisfy our mandatory court appearances in Kazakhstan.
Following the 15-day period of daily visits, we will not see our child again until we are able to bring him/her home. Two court dates are required to make official the adoption and make way for us to leave the country with the child. As you might imagine, herein lies the drudgery of bureaucracy. I am hoping that the actual appearances are not too arduous, but simply getting the court dates in a timely manner is what makes me anxious. Actually, the whole deal makes me anxious, but I guess that's what we signed up for.
During the lag between court dates--the first should occur not long after our visitation period concludes--Becky will return to the States and I will continue to wait in Europe, rested and ready to return to Kazakhstan as soon as I am summoned. The final court appearance will be in Almaty. Also in Almaty will be our little trooper, having been brought down from Karaganda. With baby gear and travel arrangements all in situ, the mad dash back to the U.S. will begin. In Amsterdam, a dear friend of Becky and mine from Germany, Yovanka, will climb on board and assist me for the final distances home.

Charles

The Beginning of the End

2008-01-09T21:30:00.000-08:00

Finally, after a year and a half of paperwork and waiting, my wife Becky and I have a firm date for our departure. Going to Kazakhstan mid-winter to adopt a child seems ever more far-out as the parting time draws near. It is now early January, and I have already taken off of work to achieve a sense of order on the home-front before the new member of our clan makes his presence. Our son Edward is certainly excited; as an only child he has longed to have a companion for the many adventures that our family likes to engage. Given that "Operation Kazakhstan" seems to be reserved for Becky and myself (Edward will not be traveling), I am hoping that this blog will in part serve to keep him connected while we are away. I also hope that this blog will help to keep our greater family abreast with the progress as this saga unfolds.
In the next post, I will describe some of the details about our adoption from Kazakhstan and what, as far as we know, we are to expect.

Charles