As we were watching video of our trip last night, I felt so disconnected from the images on the screen - particularly the ones of the transitional home where Davis was before we went to get him. While the images are real, they fall so short of showing the spirit of that place that it is just a hopeless reduction of the experience of being there. I feel the same way about even telling our travel stories, which may explain why even after a year it is still so hard to put all this into words. Anyway, for the record. . .
On Monday morning we met in the guesthouse lobby with the five other families adopting through our agency and our guide, Robel. We got on the bus and went shopping at the "Post office area." It felt very odd to just be going shopping on the morning of the DAY WE WERE GOING TO MEET OUR CHILD. This was a marketplace with shops set up in stalls. I can't tell you how much I like to blend in, and this was definitely not a place where that was an option for us. The shopkeepers were all very solicitous, and we bought a few wool animals and admired many more items such as some beautiful scarves and dresses. We also bought a few paintings of typical Ethiopian scenes - a woman spinning wool and some Ethiopian musicians. The woman who sold us the artwork tried to teach us something about the pictures, but we could not really understand her. That was the first of many times when I wished I had made more of an effort to learn some amharic.
Then we went to lunch at the Lucy museum restaurant. David and I split our first of several pizzas. It was pretty spicy. Robel had a pizza as well, but first he covered his with hot sauce! This was also the first of several three-hour lunches we had while in Ethiopia. Robel told us that there is a saying in Ethiopia that "Europeans have the clocks but Africans have the time." This definitely seemed to be the case. The free flow of time was one of the biggest cultural differences we experienced, and in many ways it was great to feel completely apart from the strict schedules we normally keep. But I do remember that it seemed like FOREVER before we left this restaurant and started for the transitional home to meet our kids.
Finally we did find ourselves on the bus moving through traffic towards the transitional home. We went from the wide busy city streets, crowded with people, cars, and animals to a more residential area. The homes here were surrounded by walls and gates, and finally we reached a green gate with the America World sign in front. The gate swung open and we all got off of the bus as quickly as we could and stood in a small courtyard in front of the building.
We were told the babies would come out in alphabetical order by the family's last name. First up were the only first time parents of the group, the Baylys. Then it was our turn and out came the nanny carrying the sweetest, most beautiful boy in the world. Our Berhanu - our light. He was perfect. I held him first and he settled right in. It all felt really, really natural. And amazing. And all of the time we waited and all of the paperwork and waiting anxiety seemed so distant and insignificant next to even the first moment we shared with our son.
After a short time David held his son, and we settled down on the grass to enjoy first-time family time. Davis was an absolute dear. I started holding him up and tickling him and his sweet laughter charmed everyone around, particularly his proud parents. We met his nanny, a very kind young woman whose name I kept unfortunately mispronouncing (again, regret about the language thing. Why didn't I study? I had a LONG time to do so.) She had an obvious love for our boy. We asked her a few questions about his habits with Robel translating, and she asked if we had other children. She posed for pictures with Davis and tossed him up and down to make him laugh.
The afternoon went quickly. Soon we were asked to deliver the children back into the hands of the nannies and board the bus. It was hard to kiss Davis goodbye, but it seemed reasonable to wait one more day to take him with us in hopes of having an easier transition for him. The ladies in the group were taken to a spa for massages and manicures while the guys hung out at some kind of cafe. Then we went back to the hotel and were told to get ready to go out for a traditional Ethiopian meal.
Here is something I'm not real proud of - I was exhausted at this point. We had yet to be able to speak with Faith since we had gotten there, and I was really desperate for that. I was missing her so much and so worried that she was not even understanding where we were or what was going on, even though we had tried very hard to tell her. I may have been a little overwrought and I might have told David that he had to find out how we could get in touch with our family, and that I just could not do another thing that day. David and I had also both brought nasty colds with us on this trip, so there was that added yuck as well. So on my account we missed the only traditional meal of the trip and gave up the chance for invaluable memories to share with our son one day. I am still a little bummed about it, in case you couldn't tell. We were able to speak with family, though, and it probably did me good to rest before the next day when we GOT Davis for keeps. More on GOTCHA day tomorrow !!
No comments:
Post a Comment