Well, gang, it seems like we've been here about a month, but it's only been a few short days! Yesterday was spent on a six-hour walking tour of Kiev/Kyiv that was absolutely incredible...more on that later, however, as today saw our appointment at the adoption center and (drumroll) our referral!
In case you've read other blogs or heard Rachel tell idyllic stories about how wonderfully the appointments at the adoption center go...ours wasn't like any of them...at all...no really, it wasn't. It played out like a strange combination of a cold war spy drama crossed with the bar scene from Star Wars. Here's how it went...
On Tuesday night, one of our facilitators called and said he would come by and/or call us later to fill us in on the details of how things would work for our appointment at 4 pm on Thursday. A short conversation that evening revealed the details of our tour the next day, but nothing more except a promise to meet on Wednesday evening. After a long but wonderful tour on Wednesday, a short phone call promised to call us at 10:00 this morning (Thursday) to tell us the information from Tuesday.
This morning about 10:45, we got a phone call telling us that we would probably be picked up at 1:30 but to hang tight until 1:00 when the time would be confirmed. At 1:15, we were called and told that we'd be picked up about 2:00. So far, everything is pretty normal, eh? Anyway, we head down at 2:00 and are picked up in the back alley behind our apartment in a late model Mercedes with blacked out windows...our facilitator who was accompanied by a local lady we'd never met yet.
A fifteen minute hair-raising ride across town later, we're dropped off by our facilitator with the 'new girl' and told that another facilitator would meet us soon for our 3:00 appointment (get the time change?). So we wander around this incredible Orthodox church with our new friend until a man in a black sweater and gray suit walks up and introduces himself...he obviously knows us from our passport pictures. He explains to us not to be anxious but also not to be disappointed if things don't work out today. With that, he directs us to the side entrance of this non-descript, Soviet-era government building where a motley crue of Ukrainian, American, and other folks were waiting in line, blocked from entering by a towering guard in a very official-looking uniform.
At this point, our facilitator...we'll call him Mr. X., moves to the front of the line under a barrage of criticisms from the folks waiting patiently to turn in documents. He begins yelling at the guard that we have an appointment (and are not merely turning in papers), then he yells at the folks outside, then he gets on his cell phone and yells at somebody there...all without missing a beat or messing up his suit. At some point, the guard (who is drunk at 3 pm) grabs his shoulder, and Mr. X. promptly swings his shoulder around, sending the guard bouncing off the door and into a pile on the floor. (Cross-checking, 2 minute penalty)
By the way, the sound of the guard hitting the floor was the first sign from the 'new girl' that this was better than your average entrance to the party...but nothing to fear, she confidently told us...
Mr. X. then left the entrance, escorted by the center director, and proceeded to have a quick smoke and a pear from a tree in the back of the building. One of his ex-pat buddies joined him for the smoke and what seemed to be a congratulatory little celebration...until we were called by a translator to enter upstairs to our appointment.
At this point, we expected to follow the protocol that everyone before us had, but apparently Mr. X. had greased the skids, so to speak. We were shown several beautiful kids, all of whom had some kind of health issues, until the last one...a young boy not quite 3 1/2 (BTW, there is a possibility he may not be able to be separated from some siblings, but the other children have not had parental rights relinquished...we can only imagine because they are older, we'll find out more soon). He was a bit older than we requested, but we pretty much knew he would be. As I ruffled through the papers to look back at another child who was younger but had some 'stunted growth' issues, Mr. X. quietly placed the last referral back on top and gave me the eye (it would be considered the 'evil eye' here in superstitious Ukraine, but I understood). So we said we'd like to meet this last chap...whose name, believe it or not, we can't remember to save our lives...It starts with an 'R' but isn't any of the stereotypical Slavic/Russian/Ukrainian names we Americans all know...more later.
As soon as we said we'd like this meeting, Mr. X. promptly stands up, thanks the psychologist and translator for their time and shuffles us (baffled) toward the door. On the way down the stairs, he tells Rachel to be silent about getting a referral as we pass the folks outside, moves us quickly to a black Lincoln Navigator (again with blacked out windows) and walks away...leaving us in a strange car with yet another new girl, who is on her cell phone rattling off in Russian without even acknowledging our entrance. After several minutes of awkward silence, she hangs up, introduces herself and proceeds to tell us all about the arrangement Mr. X. has
already made with the director of the orphanage...as in he talked to the director
before our appointment...somehow confident, I guess, we'd choose this particular child. We sat with her for about 30 minutes without going anywhere, discussing the ins and outs of the process from here on. At some point, the phone rang, and she told us our ride was here (I thought she was our ride, silly me), so we jumped out of the Navigator back to the Mercedes, where we were again driven quickly back to our apartment. Whew! All in all it took maybe 2 hours from leaving our apartment until we were back...
Well, all that to say, we have a referral! There is a lot of info we don't know about this child, but that's what our trip to the orphanage town is all about. There we will find out his complete medical history (the center here has info only on major issues), get to play with him, find out his status in relation to his siblings, etc. Hopefully the Cold War spy drama is over...but it really was pretty fun, especially now that it's about three hours behind us. It was such a whirlwind at the time, we really didn't know which way was up...and yet, as awkward as it was, it really wasn't unnerving for any of us, thankfully. We are confident that God was directing our paths, because we surely weren't in control!!
There are lots of details to fill in, and we will as we find them out. We appreciate your comments, and moreso your prayers. We'll be in touch...
P.S.--Ali says 'Hi' to her friends again!
