Headed home

While I was sad to leave, the general consensus was that the bare minimum time in my childs birth country is enough. We has a noon flight out of Moscow, and would arrive in Cincinnati around 7:00pm.

Our driver was coming at 9:00 to get us, but had a track record of being early, so we were ready at 8:30. As expected, he arrived at 8:30, and we packed the van to head out. Since it was a holiday weekend, there was minimal traffic. We wanted to record the drive, just so people would believe the stories we told about traffic, but there was nothing to report.

We arrived at the airport about 9:15 and headed for the green channel through customs - nothing to declare. Best line ever, except that everyone goes through that line, so the wait is about 45 minutes. Fortunately, while in line, I recognized a couple who was on our flight from Atlanta to Moscow the week before. This time, they had a little boy with them. I introduced myself, said how I recognized them, and we struck up a conversation. Turns out the little boy was their son they just adopted...and they couldn't have been more glowing that morning. This was their third trip to Russia. The judge in their region did not waive the 10 day waiting period, and the orphanage told them they would not be able to see their son during that time, so they went back to the US to wait. They actually said it was cheaper to come home than to stay in Russia for those 10 days. We shared stories and experiences while we waited.

At the end of the line for the green channel all of our bags went on a belt to be scanned (security check number one). We then proceeded to a line for the Delta ticket counter. After another 15 minutes in line, we were greeted by a checkpoint that verified our passports, checked our destination, and made sure we understood the regulations of flying an American airline. The couple we met said that at this point we may have our bags searched (security check number two). We then proceeded to the ticket counter. At this point we waived our checked luggage goodbye and hoped we would see in at JFK. After we got our tickets, we waited another half hour in line at passport control. Here we had our visas stamped saying that we officially left the country (security check number three). From there we went on to the traditional airport security - remove the shoes, liquids in a baggie, electronics out, etc (security check number four).

Two hours later, we finally made it to the gate. Fortunately for us, if we had come 15 minutes later, we would have had to enter a random security checkpoint at the gate. Four was enough. We found a seat and began to relax. At this point, we were ready to park ourselves in a seat and fall asleep. Then we hear our names as we are being paged to see the gate agent. The only thought in my head was "what is wrong with our checked luggage." The gate agent wanted to trade our seats for upgrades to business class! *Side note - I travel a lot for work, and have enough status with Delta that I get complementary upgrades and companion upgrades if available.* What? Upgrade? OK! Since I used my miles to pay for the flights, I wasn't supposed to be upgraded, but I wasn't going to complain. 10 hours in coach was not what I called fun.

Our seats weren't next to each other, but the gentleman next to Steve offered to switch. As we got comfortable, Steve looked at me and asked if this was how I lived when I flew. Not even close. On international flights, the seats recline like la-z-boys, you get multiple meals on fine china, noise cancelling headphones, large blankets, down pillows, unlimited video entertainment options on a personal TV, and all the alcohol and snacks you can eat. Steve, how originally was ready to sleep for 10 hours, was now ready to enjoy his in flight experience.

We arrived at JFK on time, and more ready to make a potential sprint as we didn't have very long before our flight to Cincinnati. We got off the plane and navigated the many tunnels to passports control (security check number five). After that it was on the claim our checked luggage. Lucky us, our bags came in on a different carousel than posted. After about a half hour, Steve started looking at the other carousels. By this time, all the bags had been pulled off and were laying on the floor. After the 4th black bag, we found ours and moved on. At JFK, to make a connection from an international flight, you must re-check your luggage, and go through airport security again (security check number six).

We made it through and found our gate, only to learn the flight was delayed, and then the gate was moved to the other side of the airport, and delayed again. We finally made it to Cincinnati around 7:45, and home about 8:30 (made a couple stops). My own bed, and my own shower never felt so good.

Despite the time change, we only slept for about 8 hours. We were up and ready to go to church at 9:30 on Sunday morning. The dogs were really excited to see us, and so were our friends. The weeks since have been a blur, but that is another post for another day. Now the waiting game begins, again.

I've lost count of the day, but still in Russia

I'm not sure how many days we were in Russia at this point, but I knew it was May 1. Why you ask? It was a holiday, May Day. To celebrate, we would travel back to Moscow.

Our flight left at 7:40, so to ensure that we were able to make the flight, we were up and moving about 4:30am, to leave the hotel at 5:30am. After yet another exciting ride, that this time included almost hitting a few pedestrians as they crossed the street, we arrived back at the airport. This time we were smart...we dressed in layers. It was kind of chilly, I would say upper 40's outside, but we knew it would be hot on the plane.

We arrived at the airport, went through the 3 levels of security checks, and waited to be herded like cattle out to the plane. Russians have no real sense of "forming a line" and always seemed to be in a hurry, so we sort of waited at the back until everyone else boarded. We found our seats and immediately took off as many layers as possible. We know what was coming. Most others on the plane remained in coats.

We were very fortunate that at least one flight attendant on each flight spoke some English. We were at least able to communicate food options and the type of drink we wanted. I think we both fell asleep sometime after the meal, maybe midway through the flight. This flight would be almost 5 hours, on an Airbus A319 (a bit smaller than a 737), with no video entertainment. And I think my 4 hour flights a painful.

We woke up from our nap and started shedding clothes. The ride seemed to be hotter than the first flight. Steve opened his portable alarm clock to check the time, and remembered there was a thermometer on it...85 degrees Fahrenheit. YOWSAH! He kept it open for a few minutes. 87...89...91! 91 degree on an airplane! We started noticing that the flight crew had also removed some of the layers they had been wearing. The folks sitting around us seemed unfazed though. Many had on long sleeve shirts, blazers, and coats. We could see the sweat running off faces, but all clothing remained on. Fascinating.

We finally landed in Moscow just before 9:00am Moscow time. Again, the Russians on the flight proceeded to bundle up before heading outside. We didn't put another piece of clothing on all day. We walked off the plane and into the baggage claim area. The airline we traveled on had a strict baggage claim policy. No claim tag, no luggage. Each tag was checked against the luggage tag to ensure the proper bag was leaving with it's rightful owner.

The ride to the hotel was uneventful. Even though it was rush hour on a Friday, it was a holiday, so the ride was only about a half hour. A friend from work recommended we stay in a part of town called Arbat. It's basically known for one street that is all shops and restaurants, theaters, and artists selling paintings, books, crafts, knick knacks, etc. We spent the night there with the other couple traveling with us.

The first thing we did was take a nap, and a long one at that, and them shower. All we, both couple included, really wanted to do was be with our children, and since we couldn't do that, we wanted to go home. About 5:00pm we decided it was time for food. The other couple mentioned there was a Hard Rock Cafe just around the corner, that featured an English menu and staff that spoke English - SOLD! All I really wanted was some American food. I didn't care if it was from a restaurant that I wouldn't consider in the States because every time I've gone the food has been horrible. I wanted a burger, and I wanted someone to speak English to me! The waitress laughed as we all ordered burgers and fries. Best meal I had in Russia.

After dinner we walked along Arbat Street. Since it was a holiday, there were several impromptu parades, live music, and dancers. We stopped in some of the souvenir stores. Steve hadn't gotten anything for himself yet. He ended up with a t-shirt that was totally marketed towards American tourists. It said "I've been to Russia. There are no bears." Both true statements, both funny, both touristy. As we walked back, we found some humorous things. There was a lady with a monkey in a coat. For a small fee anyone could get a photo with the monkey. I think it was the fact that the monkey was wearing a coat that made us laugh. Also, port-a-potties can only be used for a fee. In all instances, there will be one stall with an attendant, and she must be paid before you can enter. The fee totalled about 50 cents, but it was still humorous.

After we got back to the hotel, we talked with the other couple for a while, exchanging photos, stories and experiences. About 10:00pm, we called it quites. At 9:00am the next morning, we would be headed home.

Photos from the last day

In front of the orphanage

Sam being a cling on

More books

I found his ticklish spot

The fam

Rowan petting the tiger (and no, this does not make him a Bengals fan)

Rowan and momma

Rowan and the cups

Sam dragging the toy bag down the hall

He stopped to wave bye

Novokuznetsk Day 2...and then some

The afternoon of day 2 was a bit bittersweet. We knew it would be the last chance we had to see the boys until we returned, but we also got to spend almost 2 and a half hours with the boys. Steve started playing with Sam and I with Rowan. Not to far into the visit, Rowan got a horrible look on his face. When I looked at him, I discovered he had wet himself, which brought about the potty training question. The children start potty training early. They are training to a schedule - when they get up, before a meal, after a meal, before bed. They don't yet understand the connection between the urge to go, and going in the toilet. Looks like I will need some books on potty training. Rowan was taken away to get changed and was soon back to join us. After that, we decided that it would be good for Steve to spend most of the time with Rowan, to help him get used to Steve, and boy did it pay off.

The other couple that traveled with us took their son into an adjacent room and played with him. I played with Sam in one corner, and Steve played with Rowan in another corner. Quickly, Rowan began to start playing, which was more than we had seen him do in the previous visit. He found some stacking cups and began to pull them apart, stack them in order, and put them back together. Steve hid some cookies in the center cups for Rowan to find. When he opened the last cup, he saw the cookie, and began to put the cup back together. As he was doing that, he realized that was a cookie, pulled the cups back apart. This time, instead of smashing the cookie, he picked it up and started eating it as expected. I think I even caught a smile in there.

Sam was a bit of a cling on during the visit. I'm pretty sure we interrupted nap and snack time. He wanted to be held, but not really. He wanted to play, but not really. He wanted to do what he wanted to do, but couldn't really, because he had to stay in the room. He was fascinated at looking outside. I don't know if it was the rain, or the fact that he could hear other children playing outside, but he wanted to look outside.

He continued to run around like his hair was on fire. One moment with the balls, the next with the bubble, and the following with the books. He was incredibly fascinated by the books, especially the books with textures. He enjoyed flipping the pages, getting to the end and starting over again.

At one point we were playing in the ball pit and he decided that he was done. I knew this because when I tried to play with him, he reached up and smacked my face. I said the only Russian word that fit the moment - NO - except I said it in Russian. The translator saw the event go down, and started verbally disciplining him in Russian. He immediately corrected his actions. And this is how I know he understands Russian.

Steve and Rowan explored textures during some of their play time. He would take Rowan's hand and feel his beard, then would take his hand and feel the soft stuffed animal. After a few times of doing this, Steve said that Rowan could recognize the two were different. Steve said he would make different facial expressions as he touched the different textures.

Before we knew it we got the ten minute warning. It was good to know that the time was ending soon, and that the boys would not just be whisked away as before. We sat with each of the boys and prayed over then, asking God to protect them until we return, for the time to go quickly, and for their continued care by the workers until we return. We took some quick family photos, and surprisingly, everyone was looking at the camera. Soon, the head caregiver came in, and we knew what that meant.

We pulled out the items we brought for the boys - the bunny blankets I knit them, the pictures of momma and poppa, and the bubbles for orphanage to keep. Sam was not interested in the pictures. He wanted to see what all the commotion was about. Rowan was fascinated by the photo. He would look at the photo and then at Steve, and again at the photo and up at Steve. You could tell his little brain recognized the guy in the photo as Steve. We kept saying "poppa" as he would look at Steve, but we know he has no concept of what "poppa" means.

We said our goodbyes and gave hugs and kisses. The Russian word for goodbye is pronounced "da svidanya." Both boys knew what that meant. Once we said it, Rowan headed for the door and was escorted out by another caregiver. Sam lagged behind. The head caregiver had placed all the toys to be left into a plastic shopping bag. Sam was determined that he would carry the bag to its final destination. He would pick up the bag and fall over. He'd get back up and try again, and fall over, and he'd try again. Steve said he already has his mother's stubbornness. It eventually became comical to watch him pick up the bag that weighed as much as he did. After about 5 tries, he decided that dragging the bag was a better idea, but just as comical. We got some photos of him dragging the bag down the hall. As he was halfway down the hall, Steve and I said da svidanya. He stopped, turned, waved bye and said da svidanya back to us. He was smiling from ear to ear, and I think Steve and I were too.

We fought back the tears. It was hard to watch our sons walk away, them not knowing any different, but us knowing we would leave them for a few months. It was apparent, or at least they made it seem, that the boys were cared for. The workers knew their names, they were fed, clothed, had a bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads. They had others to play with, and the boys didn't have a care in the world.

We went back to the hotel both happy and sad. We met our sons, the boys who would be ours, but we had to leave them. That night we completed the formal petition to adopt the boys, including giving them their new names (hope I spelled them right). We would fly back to Moscow in the morning, 7:40 to be exact, happy to head home, but knowing a part of our heart would be left behind.

More photos from Day 1

Walking up to the orphanage

Showing Sam how to draw

Rowan, finally not crying around Steve

Reading books with Sam

The two on the left are the other husband who went with us, and their son, Benjamin

Rowan getting comfortable with Steve

Sam still fascinated by the camera

More adventures

Yes, it's true. I was looking the other direction as a giant orange dump truck came towards us. I really think I was watching all the other cars to our right enter the roundabout as we waited for the "perfect" moment.

We did have quite a few laughable moments. After we left the orphanage the first day we returned to the hotel. Our translator told us there was a restaurant in the hotel, which featured good food, and an English menu (Praise Jesus, and English menu!). We (Steve, myself, and the other couple traveling with us) headed to the restaurant about 5:45. We were greeted by an older Russian woman who spoke sternly in Russian. The gist - we aren't open.

We returned to the rooms, and gave it a half hour. About 6:15, we went back downstairs. This time, no lights, no answer. The place was empty. And then we remembered to corner market. That morning our translator took us to the store just behind the hotel to get some water. The four of us remembered the electric tea pot in the room (I told you it would be gold later). Surely there would be something that we could cook with boiled water?

We hightailed it back to the room for coat and umbrellas (it never really did stop raining while there), and headed to the store. When we walked in, we were spotted as Americans, and followed around the store. Most of what was in the store was fresh food...and then we found it. Pre-packaged boxes with pictures of what looked like noodles. All the words were in Russian, so we had no idea what flavor we were getting, or if it even was roman noodles. We also located an array of Lay's potato chips. We were intrigued by such flavors are crab, mushroom, and ham and cheese. I found the standard cheddar, while Steve located the sour cream and onion. A few bottles of water finished the trip.

Russians also have a thing for exact change. Few take credit cards. Our total came to 386 rubles, just over $10 American. Steve handed the cashier 500 rubles. She gave Steve a funny look, and said what we took to translate to "do you have exact change." Steve gave her a funny look and said what she took to translate as "I dunno." She quickly realized the language barrier and gave us our change.

We headed back to the room, boiled the water in the awesome tea pot, and had roman noodles and potato chips, and watched ESPN dubbed over in Russian.

The next morning, we couldn't go to the orphanage, so we headed out for some authentic Russian souvenirs...Matryoshka dolls. Our translator took us to one of the shops. We presumed she knew the owner. We primarily were wanting toys for the nieces and nephew...traditional toys of Russia. The cool thing about this shop was that you could see the shop workers making the toys and the dolls in the back, so you knew they were the real deal. I got a hand painted scarf. These are very popular amongst the Russian women. As I was paying for the scarf, the shop owner showed me the signature of the artist, and asked if I would like to meet her, and watch her paint. Before I could say sure, the motioned for me to follow her. We walked into a small room in the back where a woman was painting another scarf. The shop owner told her I had purchased one of her scarves, and she asked me if I wanted to paint. She picked up a brush, handed it to me, pointed to the color she wanted, and the location on the scarf. I felt a bit like I was on the Amazing Race. Here I was, halfway around the world, painting a scarf. Who does those things?!?

After we left the shop, we drove through the downtown area, on our way to the roundabout. Good thing we ate after, of lunch might have repaid a visit! Lunch was at a local restaurant. We had fried chicken breast, and cubed potatoes with cheese. The cheese looked almost like butter, but tasted so good. We had Russian hot chocolate for dessert. It's not like American hot chocolate. This is more of a pudding that a drink. According to this recipe, it's 2 parts dark chocolate, 1 part white chocolate, and one part chocolate ice cream, melted together. It was very rich, and even the dark chocolate lover Steve couldn't finish it.

Our lunch conversation was interesting. We learned more about our translator. We discussed the current climate of international adoptions in Russia (it is not favorable of Americans). We talked about what to expect during our court session with the judge.

After lunch we headed back for a quick nap. The afternoon would bring the last chance to see the boys before we left.

Accidents

So we are back from Russia and have had a little time to calm down and look back at all of the funny things that happened like almost dying. Now before the trip our agency had prepared us for a number of things one of those being traffic patterns in Russia. After hearing their description I had taken a deep breath and resigned myself to getting in an accident. People in Russia drive like they stole it with a truck full of drugs and are currently in a high speed chase with LA's finest right on their tail! And that was just leaving the airport we hadn't even gotten to any real traffic. The main roads were marked as 5 lanes wide however at any given moment it may widen to 6 or 7 depending on what someone felt like doing. I saw people make NASCAR like moves on the highway that would get you shot in some major cities in the US. In Russia however it's just part of the commute.
When we got to the city that our children are in I thought the worst might be over...I was wrong. Our driver in this city was old...I mean old. Man is not supposed to be able to live past 120 years and I don't think this guy will be there on our second trip. To make matters even worse he was driving a right hand driver vehicle. If you don't know what that means next time you are in your car imagine driving from the passenger seat. Now imagine doiing all of the things you normally do but from the wrong side of the car. It made for some hair raising moments, but so far so good...
And then it happened our driver pulled out into a round about (think circle in the US or London) right in front of a truck. Now in Russia their trucks are a little bit bigger than ours. To give you an idea here are a couple of pictures:

And just so you get some perspective here are a couple of more:
These trucks are everywhere and they are massive. I'm sure you noticed in the last picture there are 8 missile rocket things being hauled on the back of them. This is what our driver decided would be a good idea to pull out in front of.
I'm not sure why he thought this would be a good idea. My guess is he simply didn't see it. This is what I'm telling myself so I can sleep at night because we have to go back there to pick up my children. However, unlike the pictures above the truck in my story was painted bright orange. I mean bright. If there had been a solar ecplise this thing would have glowed in the dark. Everyone in the mini van, but two people got very scared. The driver, who is approaching death anyway so was probably looking for an escape, and my wife, who was completely oblivious to the oncoming Russian death truck. The rest of us which included out translator, another couple adopting and myself all were glad we had put on clean underewear that morning. Mine were no longer clean as all I could see out of my window was the headlight of the truck, and I was in the very back seat.
At this point I would like to give kudos to the Russian engineers that designed this truck depsite its size it is also quite nimble. It managed to miss us inspite of our driver. At the last possible second it made a lane change cutting off a car causing some horn honking and no accident. The fond memories always stay with me though for trip number two in 3-4 months. Can't wait maybe next time we'll almost get hit by a Russian tank.