#10 - Pt. 1 - The Rest of the Story...

Greetings from Delta's Polar Express. We really did get the last seats onSanta's Sleigh, have Finally departed Russia after 16 days, and are helpinghim with his Christmas deliveries. We're enroute from near the North Pole,and will actually be passing over Iceland and Greenland soon, eventuallyconnecting in Atlanta (where you will be getting this update from), beforearriving with Rudolph in Sacramento late tonight! :-)

Another note about our flight (that is actually interesting for some of you)is that we have about a dozen adopted Russian children flying to the US forthe first time on this flight with their adoptive parents. Let yourimagination run wild about crying babies, pacing papas, doting mamas andolder kids running wild and you sort of get the picture. It is like a flyingorphanage rescue mission full of exhausted and elated parents, with a fewdisgruntled co-passengers mixed in. Let's face it, if you were alreadydreading the 11 hour flight just on this leg from Moscow to Atlanta, thelast thing you wanted to be surprised with was finding out that you areflying with an international guest list of fans of Romper Room, SesameStreet and The Wiggles! (I think Barney and TeleTubbies are out this year.They are so yesterday!).

For example, we have the cutest two year old boy with the biggest brown eyessitting in the row across from us. Wearing a very warm, wool turtleneck thatlooks very common in Europe, but fairly out of place in Atlanta. And tworows in front of us there is a five year old boy with a big smile, a fewmissing teeth and more energy than most kids on a Christmas Eve sugar cookiehigh! While the movie "The Fantastic Four" plays overhead, he excitedlyshows off various corresponding pages in his Fantastic Four coloring book toeveryone in sight in the cabin. Most everyone onboard is pretty good-naturedabout all the toddlers on parade. It really is darling and we can't wait tosimilarly share this experience when we bring our kids home sometime soon.Luckily for us, our kids have done the intl flight once already this year,so we expect them to be real veterans at it. (Btw, I did think the currentcrop of parents and kids were so cute that I wanted to pull out thevideocamera and record the scenes at the boarding gate getting onto theplane for our kids' life stories since we will probably have our hands too full to do it on the next trip -- but Debby was too embarassed of my videovoyuerism and said Nyet. No.)

In many of the things we have read in preparation for these two trips toRussia, it is actually Delta's daily flight from Moscow to NYC's JFK that isinfamous as the "Baby Express." Supposedly much more crowded with kids thanthis one to Atlanta (today's flight on christmas Eve is 100% full. No emptyseats, including the one next to Debby with the very heavy, large Russianman who we're pretty sure is drunk and who has been snoring very loudlysince before the plane taxied onto the runway!!). Similar baby flights areeven more notorious returning to the US from China on certain US airlines.Just consider yourself forewarned if you ever take one of these flightswithout sleeping aids and earplugs. (It has been suggested that parentsbring extra earplugs to either sell for a profit to unsuspecting fellowpassengers or to mercifully give to your unprepared seatmates!)

Next, a couple of clarifications from our recent update about our first mtgwith the kids:Debby informs me that it was a cute "cowlick" Christian had going on withhis hair in front, but not "bangs sticking straight up," or however Idescribed it earlier. Oops. My bad. See what happens when you don't havesomeone editing your blogs? Just picture a typical 3rd grader with a badhair day on the day they take school pictures! Very cute. I actually thinkhe is trying to intentionally make a fashion statement, cuz none of theother boys have hair as long as his where it could be considered "styled."As for my other hair faux pas, I was emphatically corrected by my betterhalf that Lucy had "Braids," and not pigtails!! I stand corrected. I guess Iknow the difference between the two hairstyle choices, but never paid muchattention or cared. (I think I am about to seriously be indoctrinated intothe world of scrunchies, berets, clips, claws and other hair accessories!)

This will probably be the last of the updates from our journal that I will send that deal with the whole experience of meeting the kids, deciding theywere the right additions to our family, their personalities, etc. I am afraid the blogs are getting too sentimental, emotional and personal. Feel free to hit Delete right now if you've already heard enough from other parents who gush about how wonderful their children are. I know howover-the-top some moms and dads can be! And I expect this to be that kindof report. :-)

So back to the First Contact with Christian and Lucy. (Remember, you can hit Delete at any time, if you haven't already.) Here are some of the things welearned about these two wonderful children:

They don't remember where in TX they visited, but they did bring pictures orpostcards back -- although like all personal belongings here they havesimply disappeared by now. He enjoyed riding bikes, swimming and "thenature" of America. And when we showed him a picture of our home, he said itwas just like all the homes he saw in America! His favorite sport is"futbol/football," but I don't think he will be impressed that I am in theFantasy Football Championship game this weekend. Since I am sure he istalking about soccer, I may need some help from you Beckham fans out there.It was not popular when and where I grew up and I have never really playedit. I am sure he will impress me with his skills, but any good coaching tipsfor basic improvement would be appreciated.

He said his favorite subjects are mathmatics and nature (looks like I've gota budding environmentalist in our family!), he likes dogs and animals and hewants to be a fireman when he grows up. My mind was already racing with thethings I want to be able to provide him with: toy firetrucks, firefighteroutfit, DVDs of Ladder 51 and Backdraft and a visit to our friend who is afirefighter in Turlock. Or maybe to see the trucks, planes and helicoptersof CDF? I was amazed with the instant desire I had to provide him opportunities that would be so simple in CA, yet nearly impossible in an orphanage. I wanted to show him and give him the world. He smile was full ofinnocent hope, I thought "Who, more than this boy, deserves the good thingsthis world has to offer and teach us?"

Christian likes potatoes as his favorite food, Red is his favorite color andhe would not name any of his friends as his "best friend." Instead, he justsaid they were all his friends, or that he has lots and lots of friends.

He was wearing the same ill-fitting suit coat that he had had his picture taken in last week for us. Sort of a tweed. With a brown or green buttondown shirt buttoned all the way without a tie. He was extremely sensitiveand polite. Quiet, but responsive. And as he warmed up his eyes justtwinkled with each smile or joke. At one point he recited a poem or two forus. Sounded flawless to this bragging dad! :-) but then I have no idea whatit was suppose to sound like.

Christian really helped Lucy to open up as well. We learned that she likes to sing and dance and is currently practicing with her age group for the New Year's program. Although Christian says he loves dogs and that Lucy isafraid of them, she counters that she isn't afraid of all dogs -- just thebig ones. We tell them about our 80 lb Golden Retriever, Decker, and show them pics of him. We explain that he is extremely gentle and will let small kids like Lucy ride him like a horse. She also loves to play with dolls. Christian's favorite animals are giraffes and zebras.

Lucy's favorite color is green and her favorite food is also, surprise!,potatoes. She is wearing these wildly wirey wool leg warmers. To me she looks like she stepped right out of the whooly mammoth age. Except that her cute little outfit has a "Polar Bear Club" logo on it. Seemed appropriate to us. Christian tried to get Lucy to perform one of her dance routines, but she was too shy. So Christian stepped up and volunteered to show us ... Howhe knows how to Breakdance! At first I thought it was cute. Then as herepositioned himself a couple times to get started, we could tell he wasserious about this. And as he flipped, flopped, spun and struck poses, Ifound myself startled and asking myself, "Who taught my son these things?! Iam suppose to be his dad. Who's been an outside influence on himalready!?!". I quickly realized that raising Christian and Lucy will alwaysbe somewhat of a team effort. From their mom (and maybe dad or boyfriends?)to the orphanage caregivers and teachers, and now to us and our largeextended network of loving family and friends, many people will have had ahand in shaping who are kids turn out to be. I know that this is true forall kids to varying degrees, but I do feel a sense of urgency to catch up tothe 8 + years that others have raised him. Another example is that when wesnuck some illegal photos of them with my cell phone camera (which theyloved and found fascinating to the point we let Christian teach little Lucyhow to do it), Christian struck a "player's pose" with a big smile, hipstuck out, arms folded and the sideways peace sign, victory sign (Johntravolta in Pulp Fiction sign) flashing across in front of his face! Who'sbeen raising my son to be a little hip urban breakdancing rapper?, I askedwith some alarm and some humor.

As we all talked a bit more, it became obvious what a good big brother he is to Lucy. When we broke out customary candy bribes to win their affection,she was quick to grab handfuls of mini Twix or Jolly Ranchers, while he wascontent to have only a couple. He would show her how the zipper worked onthe stuffed doggie cell phone carrier we gave her filled with sweets. And assoon as she would share one candy with Christian, he would only accept itafter digging one out of his own pockets to give immediately back to her.And there was a twinkle in their eyes as if they knew these were the rulesto their game of sharing. (Many adoptive parents are shocked to learn thatthe kids in the Home share pretty well already. Since everything they "own"in there is community property, it doesn't take long to realize that you have to share to avoid problems. Hopefully they won't forget such courtesy as they eventually meet other greedy or selfish, materialistic American kids. We'll see.

We gave him a yo-yo that lights up multi-colors when you spin it. He gotpretty good at it a few times with all the expected oohs and aahs from theproud parents, translator and Lucy. (By this time the inspector could tellwe had connected and so she probably left for a cigarette.) I, of course,quickly got bored with watching the yo-yo in the lit room, so I went overand turned off the lights. That sparked some more fun as we all madeexagerrated scarey noises and the universal language of giggles to show wewere having fun. Finally, with the lights back on, Christian tried to teachLucy how to work the yo-yo. She did ok -- especially on the down part! :-).He always seemed to be watching out for and it was that kind of lovingfamily bond that we wanted to be able to nurture in siblings and be able tograft into our family tree with the strength of our existing roots andbranches. Another example is that when he first came into the room and wasstill pretty shy and only answering Qs with short one or two word answerswithout looking anyone in the eye, I noticed that he fidgeted and swung hislegs like normal little boys do. But on a couple different occasions I alsonoticed him reach down and straighten out the cuffs on his jeans that hadbeen wrinkled or folded up. I was impressed that he had such a strong selfawareness and perception of his outward appearance. Later, when Lucy arrivedand departed, he was the first one to meticulously take care of unwrappingher or rearming her against the cold. And when the translator tried to helpget Lucy dressed too, Lucy and Christian had a good laugh that this adultoutsider didn't know how to put her little wool cap on frontside forward.

While taking some of the "illegal" cell ph pics, we tried every combinationof photographer and subjects so we got the best grainy cell camera picsimaginable. One where Lucy let Debby pick her up and put her on Debby's lap(I thought Debby's smile would break the camera!), another self-pic thatChristian and I took by holding the ph out in front of ourselves. Very cuteinteractions that helped confirm that these kids should be part of ourfamily. It was the little things that brought the strong surges of peace andlove confirming that this was what the Lord had provided for us.

A couple times while the five of us (incl translator) sat in wooden chairs listening to the Inspector ask questions from behind the Orphanage Director's desk (imagine being called in to the Principal's office!), Iwould have my right arm resting across the back of Christian's chair and hewould stretch or lean back and brush against my hand. Each time he wouldlook at his right shoulder to see what he had touched, and then realize itwas my hand, he'd look over at me to his left and smile this big smile thatI reciprocated. His eyes would light up and again I would feel this bond.Something as simple as a safe and affectionate touch between a father andson are things he and I were probably both looking for. And everytime hewould smile while looking up at me after brushing against my hand, it justmelted my heart.

Similarly, Debby was able to interact with the kids by practicing her Russian alphabet, counting to ten, and identifying body parts with Lucy(show offs!). Based on all her research and preparedness for this day, sheknew the types of things to ask and look for to determine age-appropriatedevelopment of skills.

It broke our heart earlier in the mtg, before the kids came in, to hear the Inspector read courts records of the father from the birth certificate testifying that they weren't his and he didn't know about them til after he was tracked down upon the mother's death.

We are so grateful for the beautiful, bright and loving children this woman gave birth to and raised the best she could. We are sorry she couldn't do better, for her sake or theirs. But we are equally grateful for the opportunity to bring them into our family and raise them in the best way we know how - with lots of love, patience and happiness.

So it is no surprise that these kids are possibly more mature than kidstheir own age - they have had to raise themselves to some degree. It is alot of responsibility to put on an 8 year old boy's shoulders, to take careof his whole family, at least emotionally and to some degree physically. Wejust hope we'll know the right ways to help them have a childhood full offun, learning, innocence and adventure.

So that was the end of our first visit with the kids. It was emotionallydraining for us, yet at the same time a real boost to our spirits. Ourexcitment was palpable, even though we hadn't spoken yet about what we bothhad felt and experienced. By stolen glances during the 40 minutes or so, wewere both pretty sure that we were feeling the same thing. And when the kidsleft, they were asked if they would like these America n guests to come backtomorrow to visit them. What little girl with the cutest mouth full ofchocolate would say no to a repeat visit by her new dealer, I mean, friendand provider?! Something to get out of class or playgroup for some personalized attention?? You betcha! Bring the funny Americans babbling inbroken Russian phrases back again tomorrow! We were both pleased and honored.

#9 - For Unto Us A Child is Given!

Amazing News! This international adoption journey has been incredible, andat times incredibly difficult and exhausting, but NOW we can say it hasdefinitely been worth it. Already the frustrating past is fading from ourminds as we count our many blessings and look to the future with excitementand trepidation. While we may finally be concluding one journey with along-awaited "Happy Ending," we know that we are really only startinganother eternal journey with many more unknown twists and turns. And thatdoesn't even include the required second trip to Russia for courtappearances and to pick up our kids to bring them home!

Since we have basically been incommunicado for the past three days due toremote locations and technical difficulties, I will give an overview nowwith more updates to follow later.

(Sorry to those who felt you were being ignored or left out. My emails toeveryone were frozen until this evening. I think some I wrote previouslyabout Lenin's Tomb and others may have been sent just today. But we just gotback to Moscow a few hrs ago, where our connectivity is much better, andafter having packed for our flight I am now able to sit down for the firsttime and try to put some strong emotional experiences into words.)

I believe I told you that instead of seeing the kids on Monday, as originally promised, we were told we had to go down to Ryazan, Russia on Wed to notarize some things and then see the kids yesterday. When we got there on Wed our agency folks said "oh, we'll do that notarizing tomorrow or theday after." Another frustrating change (ie, delay) in plans. But we were almost expecting these kinds of changes now and had definitely grown numb totheir typical impact and no longer fought, argued or questioned them as muchas before.

We passed the first interview I told you about with the Ministry of Educ woman. Then after a long break of three or four hrs, we drove thru the streets clogged with new fallen snow to pick up an inspector with the stateor regional govt from her apartment. She would ride with all of us out tothe orphanage. Door to door service! I wasn't complaining if it made herhappy or made things faster or easier.

After a 20 or 30 minute drive out into the country we finally arrived at the children's home (orphanage). Because this orphanage is for older kids (4 -16year olds) they actually call it a Boarding School, but it is not like thePrep School we might think of in the States.

The orphanage was set amongst a thick forest of very tall, straight and skinny trees with white bark. Birch? Aspen? All the branches were loadedwith fresh snow and the air was chilly. The home consisted of a compound ofbldgs that appeared to have built in the 1940s or 50s. Very simple boxdesigns made of brick. The main school bldg was two stories and some windowshad typical school made Christmas decorations. Even though it was getting dark already (4pmish), the kids were still in school. We understand thatmany classes last until 6 or 7 pm in general in Russia. Sometimes thatincludes extra-curricular training or classes. We could see lights on, butno visible or audible presence. It was very quiet and seemed deserted.

We all walked into the orphanage director's office and the next inquisition,I mean, interview began. (The interior was equally quiet. You could hearactivity, but nothing distinct. This home has about 140 children livingthere and in Russia kids don't start going to school until about age 6. Soall the younger kids would be in other buildings with their playgroups and caregivers.)

This interview was with the Inspector we had brought with us. She was likethe State or County Social Welfare Director responsible for Children WithoutParents. Everything was done in short, choppy sentences through ourtranslator. Although she only spoke to us in Russian, we eventually figuredout she could understand at least some English because she would sometimes start to answer our Qs even before the translator had started to translatethe Q. (We often found such people to be much more fluent with English thanthey ever let on. Made it that much more important for me to watch whatDebby or I said to each other under our breath when we were frustrated orexasperated with the process or results!)

At the very beginning, before we could try to break through the icy language barrier with eye contact and body language, the inspector told us that she would probably not be very friendly tonight and it was because her motherhad just passed away last week. That definitely kept things somber andcrushed some of our attempts to get her to like us and warm up through smiles or parenting humor! Later, though, some of our answers and our attempts at speaking Russian were nonetheless so ridiculous that humannature took over and we all had a good laugh and she did warm up a bit. Hint: the best laugh came when we were all horrified to learn that theRussian phrase Debby had learned on a Russian language CD for "Would you like something to drink?," actually meant "Would you like something to drink?" (and she was not talking about some kid's juice in a sippy cup!)

The hour + interview was very bizarre in that it felt like they needed toverify the most basic things on our application to make sure we were notpart of that large group of people around the world who want to travel toRussia to impersonate the Glaziers and adopt kids using our paperwork! Also,more troubling, was how much she kept probing about why we wanted to adopt"olders" and/or siblings. She made it clear that Russians only like to adoptyoung newborn girls, and never older boys and never ever two kids. Not onlycan they not afford to do it, but they can't imagine why others would wantto. Lastly, she kept emphasing that kids this age already come with theirown habits (good and "BAD," she stressed). She reminded us that there wouldbe a huge language difference. And she asked why we didn't have biologicalkids of our own. (No, I didn't tell her none of her damn business, but itdid cross my mind. So did pictures of that gulag in Siberia I have beentrying avoid!)

Debby and I later commented that it was so difficult to hear this one sided monologue in simple sentences that it felt like we were being lectured. Thefew things we said, other than "da" - yes -- centered around getting moreinfo on the kids' background. And when it was all over, we both felt like wehad sat thru a mortgage closing or a new car purchase negotiation -- butwithout the benefit of understanding the other person!

One thing we did learn, was that both the bro and sis had been to America earlier this summer as part of some type of exchange program for a couple weeks. They went to Texas (that of course made me happy since I have livedin Texas and love it!) and seemed to have had a good experience.

We also continued to try to find out more info about mom, dad or siblings. But it was all conflicting. There was a dad on the birth certificate. But there was a court ordering in the files proving he was not the father. They had relatives visiting them, no not really. No family visitors. They did have a younger sister, but she was already adopted by Russians.

Ok. Enough already. By the end, they double checked if we still were interested in these siblings! Oh my gosh. Were they kidding?!? Did they have any idea of what we've been going thru for the past two weeks, not to mention more than a year of paperwork?? YES. We still want to meet these kids! Quit trying to talk us out of it or scare us. You might succeed! On with the show!

Sigh.

So even though we were still nervous, we felt at peace. This was SO much better than how we felt at the first orphanage. We just felt Very positiveabout these kids from the get-go. Nervous and cautious, but very positiveand calm.

So with that, they said, "Let's meet the children."

And my heart stopped. My eyes watered. I know I quit breathing. This was it. Debby and I squeezed each others hand and I tried to remember my yoga breathing!

Contrary to in Kirov, there were no other parents in this room. Just us, theinspector and the translator. And all cameras and videocams were holstered.

The door opened and in walked this very handsome, healthy, shyly smiling boywith blondish brown close cut hair with an outcropping of bangs sticking straight out from half his forehead.

It was really hard to breath and to hold back the tears. Sorta like rightnow as I type this. I felt very sure this was going to be our son. He was so polite. Very courteous as the others engaged with him. Eventually, after lots of small talk with the three of them to get him to open up, they started talking with us and him. We loved him and felt a connection.

Shortly his little sister walked in, all bundled up like a Huge stay Puff marshmallow. The brightest eyes that twinkled. A huge shy smile. And her brother excitedly announced her without cue when she walked in the door -This is my little sister (using her nickname)!

He ran over and affectionately helped her unwrap a million layers and he engaged her in conversation with us. She was so cute. Like a very healthy, shy pixie. Brown pigtails with lots of the typical bows and ribbons theyattack they orphan girls with! :-)

Our hearts melted. His voice was low and deep. Hers was like a mouse. Shewas shy but she lit up the room when she smiled.

Leaving out a lot of details -- they are ours. :-)

More details (lots) in the next email. The flight attendants are threateningme with permanent exile if I don't turn this off.

Our hearts are overflowing. We can't describe the joy of loving these precious kids. This is what we have searched across the world for.

Thank you for your love, prayers and support. Merry Christmas everyone!

Love,

Robert and Debby

#8 - K Minus Two Hours

We are now two hrs or so away from meeting the kids.

Nerves are strung high, stomach twisted in a knot, a true hurricane ofbutterflies in there. We were ready Far earlier this morning than mostmornings, just sitting there fidgeting and primping in the mirror. We lookedlike we were both nervously getting ready for a First Date, a blind date ora job interview! So hilarious.

It is not just nervousness over meeting the kids, but we have to go thru acouple meetings first with some govt and orphanage officials. Almost like an online dating service, we hope we meet their satisfaction and answer all their Qs right. We thought about writing some answers on our hands -especially the ones our translator has coached us on in advance twice! I don't think we are above "cheating" in this process to find our kids! Afterwhat we have learned and been through in this "process," I can honestly tellyou that in my mind the gloves are off. All is fair in love, war andinternational adoption. If there was a nuclear option to get what we wantand cut the red tape, I would use it in a heartbeat! :-)

Debby passes the time as we now nervously stand in the hallway waiting to meet the Dep. Minister of Educ by practicing Russian phrases for adoptiveparents:
Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired? Clean up your room. Sit still. Mop thefloor. Take out the trash. Clean out the fireplace. Mow the lawn. (Ok, justjoking on those last few!)

I distract myself from the nervousness by writing in these journal updatesand practicing my name, rank and serial number in case I say something wrongand get carted away in leg-irons.

Ok. Just passed the first interview! Yippee! The lady asked us basic Qs ofwhy we want to adopt Russian children, what we do for jobs (I did not try toexplain the "Governator" aspect of who I work for), and most searching ofall her questions was, "What happened in Kirov and why did you not acceptthose children for adoption??"

Now we hear that it will be three more hrs til the next appt with an official, so the kids must be at least 4 hrs away.

As we drive down the street right now in our facilitator's 2003 four wheeldrive BMW SUV we pass the courthouse with more than a dozen armed soldiersout front. A few of them are pointing their semi-automatic machine gunstowards something or someone we can't see. Uh oh, is this Beemerbullet-proof with armor plating and shatter-resistant glass? "Don't worry,"our facilitator says. "They are just training for terrorists." Lovely.

I will say that I am grateful for his 4x4 wheels in this slush, snow andpacked ice. Handles nicely, in case anyone was thinking of buying one. Hesays it goes for about 30K USD here since it is older. (My personal favoritethat I would pay at least 30K for right now are the heated leather seats!Yes, I am easily impressed! Having a warm backside is one of the bestluxuries we have found yet here in Russia. Now if we could just find someherbal tea or hot chocolate!) :-)

Ok, more updates later.

#7 - Lenin's Tomb

Well, after about ten days of trying, we are probably the last foreigners inMoscow to Finally go tour Lenin's Mausoleum! It is only open three hours onthe days it is open, from 10 to 1pm, and closed on various days. And with itstaying dark til past 9am and dark again around 4pm, we have not been ableto get a very early start out the door most days. The biggest problem usedto be that we couldn't leave the hotel or apartment until we had finishedour daily negotiations with adoption agency people in the US and in Moscow,we had spoken to travel agents in both countries, we had connected with ourinternational adoption specialist doctor back in the states and then anycoordination with local Muscovites who we've met during our stay here tryingto help us in one way or another. So after a lot of tying up the phone lineor sitting and waiting for it to ring, most of our mornings have been shot.A few times we tried to go visit Lenin, only to arrive on a day it wasclosed, or to underestimate how long it really took for us to either trudgethere in the snow (yes, uphill both ways) or to navigate the maze they callthe Metro -- their underground subway system -- to get there!

Their Metro is Huge and makes NYC, Boston and Washington DC pale bycomparison. The Metro here has 10 different lines zigzagging all acrossMoscow, all with a different color on the maps! Literally. On one map Line#2 is a dark shade of blue, on another map it is green and on another it isyellow. And even on the official Metro maps down inside the tunnels, on theplatforms and in the train cars, you need to be able to distinguish betweenthe dark blue line, the light blue line, the gray line, and then theconfusing red, purple and brown lines. With years of aging, the signs arenot all that clear. I am just glad I didn't have to differentiate betweenaqua, turquoise and chartruse lines, cuz I can't even do that at home whenshopping with Debby! Also, we have even found some Metro stops to be shutdown entirely even though they are still listed on every map! It sure makeslife challenging for lost foreigners!

Lastly on this Metro topic (for now), let me just remind you that all thesigns in Russia are in the Cyrillic alphabet that comprises the Russianlanguage. Cyrillic has many letters from the Greek alphabet (think back toyour fraternity and sorority days of Phi Delta Gamma, etc), some from theRoman alphabet we use in English and some made up purely of the Cyrillicalphabet. This isn't like a trip to Mexico or France where at least thewords in your guide book are in the same alphabet as what you are showinglocals when asking for help or when frantically searching the signs on thewalls of the Metro to see if u r at the right stop or not. So good luckbeing able to even decipher if you are at the right Line, let alone theright stop!

(Now back to staring at the phone all morning waiting for it to ring beforewe could leave our hotel to go see Lenin's Tomb -- and no, as far as we could figure out, they don't have call waiting. Eventually, once we realized our Groundhog Day adventure was not going to end, we stole someone's cellphone that they had left on a counter at a restaurant and have just beenusing that to make all our local and international phone calls. Justkidding. We rented a mobile phone for the duration and it has made our life much easier -- even though it looks like a woman's make-up compact onsteroids! Not really small. Sorta mustard yellow, sorta square, but roundedand like an oval teardrop shape. The screen is in the middle and the 0-9keypad is around the edges clockwise from the bottom!)

So -- back to our story already in progress --today we were excited to knowwe were gonna finally make it to visit Uncle Vladymir (aka Lenin). Westarted by going thru an unsuprisingly illogical security check (no lines towait in with any order. Just chaotic progression towards the front. Cellphones and cameras must be checked, but somehow blackberries and the padlockI accidentally left in my pocket must not yet be on the updated list ofcontraband items.). Then we were free to meander across Red Square towardsthe Tomb. It was again fascinating, like in our first visit to Red Squarethe day we arrived in Moscow an eternity ago, to stand in the middle ofwhere the Red Army held decades of marches and demonstrations of militarymight on May Day in front of Comrades Lenin, Stalin, Kruschev, Breshnev,Cherninko, Andropov and Gorbachev until the walls came tumbling down andperestroika and glasnost signaled an end to the Soviet regime and the USSR'sdominance over much of eastern Europe and parts of Asia and the middle east.

(One last disclaimer here and then I promise you will get your, and our,long-awaited peek inside Lenin's final resting place:

In spite of what you may believe from reading some of my rants in theseemails, Debby and I have a growing love and appreciation for the Russianpeople in general and especially the many wonderful Moscovites in particularwho have helped us so generously so many times. Yes, the bureaucracy hasdriven me mad and their system is very different from ours. But the peopleare struggling in a life we can not comprehend. Yet they have often shown uskindness when it is obvious we are lost on the Metro, or we can't order asimple baked potato from a street vendor, or we don't know how much theMatrushka nesting dolls or souvenir bottle of vodka costs! Some of you knowthat one reason we are adopting from Russia is because two of Debby's greatgrandfathers escaped from Russia years ago and left behind all records andinfo about their families, their names [Americanized into Rock and Washer, the latter Jewish] and their lives. These are warm people in a cold land anda frigid environment. So lest any of you think I mean any disrespect in myfollowing description, please know that I do not. There is so much we do notunderstand about this land and its people and their history. And my angerhas only been directed towards the process and system we have uncomfortablybeen enduring. With our hopefully soon-to-be children, and 1/4 of Debby'sancestors, being Russian, trust me that we have a great love for the Russianpeople. Now having said that, let me "call 'em as I see 'em" and bring youmy Tales from the Crypt!)

The whole tour is amazingly brief, especially compared to the ordeal offinding the right days and times to get there and then finally gettinginside the doors. I think we were physically inside the tomb for about 4minutes, and about one minute of that walking around Lenin's glass-encasedopen casket in the lowest level of the tomb. Very similar to when you go topay your respects to a stateman lying in state in the capitol rotunda -- theline just keeps moving. Luckily, we did not really have any crowd near us aswe entered, so we were able to take it all in without being hurried orrushed by people violating your personal space with lots of bumping andpushing .... another concept they do not understand here!

As you enter the tomb at street level from Red Square right in front of themassive walls of the Kremlin -- it is a compound of buildings, not a singlebuilding --, you are told (thru charades and gestures) to take off your hatand take your frozen hands out of your warm pockets. The lighting is verydark and the mood is quite somber and serious. At the end of every hallwayand at every corner there are three Russians soldiers solemnly watching yourevery move. Never a word is spoken. At least one, if not two, of the threelooks to be about 17 or 18 yrs old. Barely more than Boy Scouts.

I was shocked at my first reaction once inside: Respect. Not the ArethaFranklin R-E-S-P-E-C-T! type of adoring respect, but respect nonetheless. Iconfess that this conservative, Republican, capitalism-loving,democracy-preaching American Christian did not anticipate feeling a greatdeal of respect either for Lenin or his tomb. (Not that I was blowingbubbles with my All-American Bazooka bubble gum or shoving my cold handsdefiantly back in my pockets or anything like that.) I just didn't expect topersonally feel such emotions of respect, and maybe even a teeny bit ofunderstanding.

I have no doubt that the setting sure helped provide the mood. Everytime wewould turn the corner or walk down the stairs at the end of each hallway,spiraling deeper down into this rectangular shaped tomb, the seriousness ofthe young soldiers performing their duty made me think of our proud men andwomen in uniform. That's when the comparison hit me: just like we rightlyhonor our veterans, our heroes and our founding fathers, these youngsoldiers diligently standing guard, and the people of Russia who trek tothis national shrine, do so in honor of someone who profoundly changed thehistory of their nation, for better or (in some of our opinions) for worse.Many of these Russians believe what they do about Lenin based on the samekind of traditions and propaganda and history that teaches us about ourAmerican leaders from before our lifetimes: Washington, Lincoln, HarrietTubman, etc. (I am not saying we can't see very different fruits andbenefits and freedoms resulting from their teachings and leadership. That isobvious.) Nevertheless, that kind of respect amongst sporting compeititors,amongst opposing leaders of nations and soldiers, and even amongst patrioticbrothers from different countries or political systems was something I couldrelate to and understand.

(Now before any of you think I am about to turn in my elephant collection for the Hammer and Sickle to become a card-carrying member of the CommunistParty, read on.)

After a series of hallways and descending stairs at each corner, we finallyturned a corner that led to a doorway that led to a larger room. It lookedlike there was more light in there, or at least it seemed airier compared tothe dark, low-ceilinged corridors we had been going through. As you enterthe room, your attention is immediately drawn to, well, uh, to the dead guyin the large glass-encased open casket in the middle of the room! Their aretwo sets of guards, one at the entrance you are walking thru and oneimmediately in front of you across the room at the opposite doorway for theexit. The path for observer looky-loos is a horseshoe route back up somestairs along side the coffin, walking level along its side, in front of it,back the other side, then down the stairs to floor level and out the exit.

The next thing I noticed, after the dead body, was how the room was awash with red lights and lots of black. It almost glowed red. Lenin was dressedin a black suit and tie (with his trademark moustache and goatee) and whiteshirt. Everything else in the whole room was either black or red. Fairlyquickly a dark feeling of doom or evil came over me. Maybe it was just themood lighting, but I honestly felt like I was surrounded by evil. Ok, nojoking here. I really felt like I was in some sort of weird resting placefor Satan himself. It was that creepy! Not the I-am-afraid-for-my-safetytype of scariness, but just an evil-is-welcome-here sorta feeling. I triedto shake the feeling once or twice, thinking it sounded a bit melodramaticeven for me. But the more I circled around the casket staring at this man'scorpse, the more I felt the complete lack of light or freedom weighing onme.

Everyone in Russia has told us how "Red" means beautiful, it is the color ofthe Communist Party and it is the national color, so it is understandablethat there was lots of symbolic red in the tomb. And I think that black isthe universal color for mourning, so that made sense too. But I am tellingyou, something more than just the hellish color schemes made it feel like ashrine to evil. After staring at the crusty edges of his nose, his eyelidsand his fingers (a couple of which looked like they might be missing orready to crack off), I was ready to get out of there. I felt like I wassomeplace I should be ashamed to be -- almost dirty. Sort of like youwouldn't be proud to tell your mom you had been there! Of course as soon asI was out of there I thought, "Wow. That was cool!" About the same way youlile to go back on the roller coaster ride that just scared you to death andtook your breath away.

I was so impressed with our four minutes of silence and the conflicting emotions of respect and evil that I was eager to find out if Debby hadexperienced the same thing. Outside I asked her, "What was your firstimpression?" Without hesitation she replied, "They did a good job on him!"Considering that her older brother is a mortician, I was not surprised ather attention to the technical details! Personally, like the other touristsand adoptive parents before us, I thought Lenin looked pretty waxy. I don'tthink he really looked any better or worse that those figures in wax museumsand I am sure the conspiracy theorists out there believe it is just a waxcopy of Lenin in the tomb. Either way, the freezing cold fresh air andovercast daylight on Red Square was refreshing. After that, you walk pastsome burial plots/stone memorials for famous leaders like Stalin, Brezhnev,etc. Again, it was interesting to see the large stone busts of these oldfoes of the cold war, stand on their burial plots and realize that despiteall of their earthly power and fear they imposed over others, they willstill meet the same fate as the rest of us mere mortals -- death in theflesh and then a judgment by a merciful (and just) God.

Sorry this has been so long, but I have written it over the course of acouple days while I have had technical difficulties connecting to theinternet over here recently.

Future updates:
Museum of Modern History (aka Museum of Soviet Propoganda)
More Russian Church experiences
The Banya (Russian Bathhouse)
The National Library

#6 - Tutorial, Adoption Quiz and Good News

In today's update, you get:

1) A review/tutorial on the process of intl adoptions, just the in-countryportion, from our perspective;

2) A one-question quiz on intl adoptions, and

3) Our good news of the day!

(Preliminary disclaimer: without any doubt or hesitation, I can state thatour experience the past few weeks with international adoption in general,and in Russia in particular, is NOT typical. We definitely know that mostprospective parents have little or no logistical difficulties, medicalconflicts or any other challenges when dealing with their adoption agency orthe children referred to them. We know our experience is unusual, and wewould feel terrible if these email missives discouraged anyone from one ofthe greatest blessings life can offer - loving and raising some verywonderful children. Adopting one child, or younger kids, makes a bigdifference from what we faced. And even most parents adopting "olders" or"sibs" still have a more pleasant experience than we have had. Hhhmmmm.Maybe it's just me that is difficult?!? Honestly, if you or someone youknow is seriously considering adopting, pls talk to us directly and don'trely on these emails to affect you. If we didn't actually believe it wouldbe worth it in the long term, we wouldn't still be here!)

SUMMARY REVIEW
A week ago at this time (Monday evening) we were leaving Kirov and the first orphanage we visited here in Russia. Our return airline tickets to the USAwere for three days later, Thursday, but we told our adoption agency staffwe would extend our stay as late as thru the weekend to return on Sunday --IF we were able to find and visit any other children that would be a goodmatch for us (siblings or not). The next day they told us that there weretwo siblings in Ryazan we could meet -- but probably not until the nextMonday (TODAY). Maybe sooner. Would we be interested?

Of course we were interested, and thus began our (my) attempt to try to exert some - any - level of influence or persuasion on the decision of whenwe would actually meet the kids -- and thus be able to return home. We wereactually feeling fairly confident in our abilities to get around with thetransportation systems, the language and a healthy dose of internationalcharades. Plus, we had nothing else on our agendas other than finding andmeeting kids to adopt. So we offered to rent a car and drive to meet thekids that night, the next day or anytime in the next 4-5 days. We offered tobe on any train any day to meet the kids. I volunteered to go anywhere inRussia to be a courrier for allegedly misplaced paperwork for our file, ifit would expedite the typically slow system. I seriously wanted to stage asit-in at the local office of our adoption agency. I was getting militant,but Debby said "No" to that idea. We told them we would do anything to helpspeed things up, but we couldn't stay beyond Sunday (just out of principle,and a commitment to our jobs and bosses, we felt we needed to draw some kindof line. Otherwise, we casually joked between ourselves, who's to say whatwould happen if they kept stringing the days out further and further. Wesaid to each other, sounding a lot like our parents, we aren't made of moneyand couldn't "stay forever" if they kept dragging it out.). They didn'tblink. They didn't care if we returned to the USA. They understood we hadjobs to take care of. So they suggested we just go home last Tues and thenfly back here this week! Whatever. It was our choice, they said, but noguarantees we would see them before Monday.

At the risk of wasting all the valuable time sitting and waiting to seethese siblings and not seeing anyone else in the meantime, we decided tostay and wait for the siblings from Ryazan. We kept pushing for an earliervisit, and they kept leading us on with "we'll call you tomorrow" to let usknow any updates from these other third party authority figures whom theyclaimed to have no control over. While I believe they don't have authorityover these other govt or orphanage officials, it was hard for me to acceptthat we are paying them for their services to coordinate all of theseconnections and relationships on our behalf while we are in country, and yetthey couldn't work with these relationships to persuade them to speed thingsup or make any exceptions for us. (It is SO different from the US. Thephrase "customer service" is not in anyone's vocabulary here! No one has tocare, and so often they don't.)

Anyway, they would finally come back to all our pleading and logic andoffers/threats to try to expedite things with a cold, hard "it is impossiblefor you to see them before Monday. You decide whether to stay til then or toleave and come back later."

With encouraging photos and brief medical info now in hand, we decided tostay to see them on Monday. But ... (You saw this coming, right?) ... around last Thursday or so they first mentioned the possibility that maybe theycould only meet with the officials on Monday, and we could meet with thekids on Tuesday. Or Wed. As in, not really Monday after all! Psych!

You can imagine our emotions and feelings. I was at the point of righteousindignation, fury and anger all rolled into one in a heartbeat - and I amadmittedly fairly reserved and calm. I wanted to go Postal and tear somelying SOB's head off!!! How dare they try to deceive and cheat us, and onand on! Of course, as usual, it was Debby who was the voice of calm and keptme from getting us thrown in a Gulag in Siberia (where I hear it is evencolder than in Moscow!). She kept her eye on the big picture and theeternity of our family together, not worrying about another measely 24 hourday or two in the scheme of things. So I would nurse my wounded pride andthink bitter thoughts towards all these faceless people I had no ability toinfluence or persuade or circumvent -- all skills that can serve you well inan orderly and familiar society, but not here. And in the end, each day, wewould hear some new "reason" why we couldn't meet with the kids beforeMonday and why it might actually be even later for us to meet them: some ofthe documents from our file got left in Kirov, the kids were not yet off thedomestic adoption registry yet, the orphanage inspector was on vacation, thepaperwork wasn't done, we still needed to notarize some forms in Ryazan,etc., etc. Personally, I just believed they needed the extra time to scrubthe orphanage, the kids and everything we would see on our visit!

ADOPTION QUIZ
With all the background and history provided above (and disregard the factwe left the USA on the 9th of December, cuz it obviously didn't matter toour agency folks or the Russians in charge of this process), here is thequiz:

Q. When will Robert and Debby actually get to meet the siblings in Ryazan?

(I will make it easy on you and give you some multiple choice options.)

A. Tuesday (tomorrow)
B. Wednesday
C. Thursday
D. Christmas Day (Sunday)
E. Never

GOOD NEWS!
The good news in this email, and the answer to the quiz above, was providedin a phone call we received tonight from Andre, our facilitator, andVictoria, our translator. (Sorry to make you read all the way to the end,but as Many of you have encouraged us with your notes and advice: "Goodthings come to those who wait!") :-)

Contrary to what the pessimist in me was beginning to believe, we actually Will get to meet the kids before 2006, so answer E ("Never") was wrong! Andthat is surprisingly good news to me!

They told us that we will need to travel to Ryazan with them on Wed afternoon to notarize some papers and that we have a 9:30am appt on Thursdaywith an orphanage official there. Then later that day we will FINALLY meetthe little boy and girl. So C ("Thursday") was the correct answer to thequiz above. Or at least it is correct *right now!* Just wait a day or two before trying to collect all the money from the Office Pool. I am never convinced anymore that what we hear today will still be true or accurate tomorrow!

But in spite of that minor doubt, we are back to being excited!! :-) We are supposed to meet the kids on Thursday, and then they have told us that weneed to stay to spend a second day (Friday, for those keeping track) withthe kids since they are older and the transition could be more difficultsince we are total strangers. Then we would return to Moscow on Friday ...and finally free to leave the country on Saturday, Christmas Eve! :-)

Even though it will be a very long and tiring trip racing Santa's sled fromMoscow to Sacramento on Christmas eve, we are very grateful for many things.First, to be able to meet the children. Second, to be able to sleep in ourown beds on Christmas eve and Christmas -- even though we weren't exactlyready for Christmas when we left for Russia. And thirdly, we are gratefulthat all of our airline ticket changes will not cost us an arm and a legafterall! Debby worked her miracles and we will will still have a few rubles left after the flight home to put some borscht, herring and caviar on thetable for the kids!

Lastly, thank you again all for your thoughts and prayers. We know they havehelped us personally in direct and indirect ways. We appreciate yourfriendship, your love and your support. We can't wait to give you moredetailed reports soon on the rest of this frigid journey! :-)

Robert and Debby

PS- not like we don't have enough pressure already, but if we accept thesekids then we need to be prepared to sign and notarize some forms before weleave Ryazan indicating any changes in their names! Decisions, decisions.Uprooting and transplanting an 8 year old and 4 year old from Russia to theUS is traumatic enough for them, but then changing their name and identityis also a big step to take. But to help them assimilate as Americans(without losing their culture and heritage as Russians), we need to findjust the right balance. Most adoptive parents will keep the first given nameas a middle name. We'll let you know what we decide once we get to thatpoint.

#5 - Help! I've fallen into Russian adoption hell and I can't get out!!

OK, you are either going to understand this comparison or you won't:

We are living in a Moscow Groundhog Day!!

Seriously. Just call me Bill Murray. And instead of being stuck eternally inPuxtuhanee, PA, we are trapped in frozen Moscow!

Every day we wake up wondering what we are going to do to pass the timewithout spending the few remaining rubles we have, without getting thrown inthe Gulag and without completely ticking off our local adoption agencyworkers with our "ugly-American" requests and demands for timely help,answers or speedy service!

For the past week now we have been stuck here in Moscow. When we left thedifficult experience of Kirov, we had the faith and hope that something elsewould work out. We still believe it will. But in the meantime, instead ofthe quick assistance we expected, our agency folks dangle out the carrot ofthese siblings we feel very optimistic about ... and like a never-endingtreadmill nightmare, they remain slightly out of reach.

(Don't worry, we Are trying to make the best of it. When we are notspecifically fighting the process, or trying to explain this ordeal to youin a humorous or melodramatic description, we Are having as much fun aspossible seeing the sights and eating every new food we can find - almost.Hopefully I can find some time soon to sit at an internet cafe and actuallytype up some more adventures to share with you.)

Nothing we do seems to make any difference in either getting to see the kidssooner or getting out of the Russian version of Alice in Wonderlandcraziness. Every day we wake up and it is cold and dark outside, usuallysnowing lightly, and the only thing on our list of items to do to feelproductive is figure out Before we arrive frozen at a museum whether or notthat is the one day of the week the museum is closed. (I can't tell you howmany times we have trudged up to a museum entrance or Lenin's Tomb only tofind it closed that day, or closed early that day during special "DecemberNights" hours that are not listed in the tour guide books!)

So for those of you who keep asking if we are home yet, or how our trip toRussia was: we are Still here in "Russian adoption limbo" in Moscow.Waiting, waiting, waiting. Living the same cold Moscow day over and overagain!

It is now late Monday afternoon and one of the adoption agency'scoordinators/translators is arriving in Ryazan (3 hours SE of Moscow) rightnow to meet with some official (either the orphanage inspector, some judgeor a deputy Minister of Education - depending on who we talk to or whichstory version they are telling us each time) to determine if we can go meetthe kids tomorrow, Tuesday.

Apparently today is the first day that the kids will be "off the registry"where they must first be listed as available for Russians to adopt thembefore they can be adopted by foreigners. If all goes well today withwhatever official she is meeting with, then we will go to Ryazan tonight ortomorrow and finally meet the kids. Then there is the rumored possibilitythat we could be "asked" (required) to stay a second day to keep visitingwith the kids on Wednesday because they are so much older and they need to feel as comfortable with us as we need to feel with them. That makes sense.Sorta.

All I know is our entire sense of freedom, self-determination andindependence has been 99% crushed and snuffed out here in this process. Itnever even dawned on me, until now as I type these words, that this is agreat analogy to what the Russian people are now trying to recover from as adaily existence during the decades of Soviet communism's oppression! We justno longer fight the random inconsistencies, lies, illogical and weirdexplanations. I now expect the worst and try to keep a teeny seed of hopealive somewhere deep inside that this will all be worth it. No matter howhard we protested, threatened, complained, bluffed, demanded answers thatmade sense or simply refused to cooperate -- it was all to no avail. They know we are stuck at their mercy to help us thru the system. And the rest ofthe whole system truly doesn't move fast or logically for anyone. Anyway, Iam ranting on a tangent. Sorry!

Whether we are done in Ryazan on Tuesday or Wed (and regardless of theresults there), we will be trying to catch the first flight out of Moscowthat does not cost us an additional $2000 + each to upgrade our ticketsduring the last minute Christmas exodus from Russia! In other words, we aretold that with the limited # of seats left (mainly in first class) our bestbet may be to travel on Christmas day. Or after. Keep your finger crossed.And keep praying. We're even more in limbo because every time we try to maketentative plans to change our tickets with Delta Airlines, we can't get veryfar cuz we don't know when we'll honestly be able to travel. (The one thingwe have learned here is that you can NOT plan on anything with certainty.Period. You must be flexible. It is enough to drive a "control freak"completely crazy!) :-)

We hope you all are well. And have a Merry Christmas ... if we are not homebefore then to call or see you!

Robert and Debby

#4 - Dawn of a New Day in Moscow

(Update #4 of our Russian-American adoption saga.)

First, let me thank everyone who has sent us the kindest notes ofencouragement. Some were simple, some were funny, some were poignant and allwere personal and sincere. We really appreciate them and we will actuallysave them to print out and put in our family's journal about thisexperience. (One of the things that they tell adoptive parents to do iscreate a "life book" for the children to learn about their motherland, theprocess you went thru in finding and adopting them and anything you caninclude about the whole experience.) Your helpful words, your wise advice,the positive vibes and energy, the lit candles and all the thoughts andprayers will be a part of this journey that our family will treasure as weteach our kids about their past, about our wonderful friends and family andabout their future.

I'll share just two of the many, many thoughtful and helpful comments thatsome of you sent us. Hopefully they will likewise provide similarencouragement for some of you in your personal endeavors:

(I always like to quote that infamous rock apostle Paul Simon:"God only knows, God has his plan, the information is unavailable to the mortal man.")

And

(Lessons like these are always difficult to deal with at first, but I havealways been a believer that things happen in life for a reason. The fruitthat is hardest to reach on the tree is often the best. Keep reaching.)

We would echo both of those emails -- we often don't have all theinformation available to us about the larger plan of life, but nonetheless,we need to keep reaching for the best fruit on the tree of life. Never giveup.

And that leads me to our second point, which I obviously didn't make clearin my last email ... we are still in here in Russia and have not given up!

Most importantly, since the last update was sent, we have received anotherreferral from our adoption agency! We have definitely felt that this was ananswer to prayers -- ours and many of yours. Thank you again!

We desperately did not want this trip to have been a "waste" of our time ormoney if we were to return home without finding the kids we've been lookingfor. That would mean eventually having to come back here some other time tomeet more children for a "first" visit and then come back again for thelegally required court appearances that are part of a "second" visit tofinalize the adoption. After our experiences in Kirov, and our fears anddoubts of this process never working out for us, we told the agency that atthis point we would even be willing to adopt just one child, no siblings,irrespective of gender. We admit that our faith was wavering, ourconfidence was shaken and we were doubting many things -- especially thiscrazy process of international adoptions! We just wanted to find some childthat would fit into our family and whom we could love unconditionally.Whatever it was going to take to make it easier for our agency to find sucha child or children, we just wanted some type of success in connecting withsomeone who needed our love and would fit into what we were looking for inan "older" child. (And some of us think we get offended when others call usold. Our standard for "old" was a three year old!) :-) As it turns out, thenew referral was for siblings again after all!!

As usual, the roller coaster ride since getting this new referral has beennon-stop. Highs of excitement, hope and anticipation. Lows of a completelack of info about the kids, possible delays in getting to meet them and(more) contradictory info from our agency about them!

They live in Ryazan, which is about a 3 hour trip south of Moscow. There isan 8 1/2 year old brother and a 4 1/2 year old sister. (A little older thanwe intended originally, but at this point we are trying to be very open andnot too picky!) They had a single mom who raised them until she died about18 mos ago, at which point they moved into the orphanage. We have seen pictures and they look great! Their medical papers are very thin, but so farso good.

The biggest challenge has been in finding out when we can go visit them. At first it was this coming Monday, but possibly (hopefully) sooner, such as yesterday, today or tomorrow. Now it is Tuesday when we are being told wecan see them. It is so frustrating to be powerless here over so manyfactors! But we are trying to be patient and positive. (One email we gotback from a friend suggested that God is trying to teach us patience andcommitment through this time of uncertainty, since we will definitely needboth qualities in raising kids! We agree that that may be part of what weare suppose to learn - and that we have been woefully short on both countsover the past couple days.)

When we focus on these kids and what we do know, we have a very goodfeeling. So we are pretty excited! Once we know more, we'll send out anotherupdate.

In the meantime, we owe a special thanks to our bosses and co-workers whohave generously encouraged us to take care of things here in Moscow and not worry about things back in Sacramento. And that has really helped! (Thankyou Rob, Paul, BreAnda, Liz, Sue and Jen!)We'll keep you posted! More to come!

Robert and Debby

#3 - Trans-Siberian Railroad Update

After a second night on a 13 hour train ride we are now pulling back into the railroad station in Moscow. It is Tuesday here. For the train experience, you honestly just need to remember the scenes from Dr. Zhivagoor Reds. Wide open outdoor train platforms that are poorly lit with swirling snow in the air, huddled masses shuffling back and forth thru the snow packed platforms.

Aside from the adoption aspect of this trip, the rest of it can be summed upas an experience in wardrobe schizoprenia! We had been warned by otheradoptive parents in online chat and support groups that it is freeezingoutside and sweltering hot inside. No matter how hard we have tried, we have not been able to find a nice California medium! It is either freeze, sweat,freeze, sweat or dream about something in between. When the train pulled into Kirov yesterday morning, our group coordinator/translator (Tatiana) ranback and forth in front of everyone's open compartment doors urgentlywarning us that it was even colder than normal and colder than expected thismorning and that we should bundle up with even extra layers! There was sucha plaintiff panic in her voice ("Please, please, put on everything you can.It is 20 degrees below zero [celcius] outside! Please be prepared!). It just made us wonder how many Americans had lost some fingers, a nose, or a van Gogh ear the minute they stepped off the train! Sure enough, it was bitter, bitter cold. As soon as you inhaled, your throat and chest felt like they had freezer burn going on and your runny, sniffly nose instantly froze. I know, not a lovely thought, but an even worse experience!

We knew to dress in layers, but often things are beyond your control. In taxis or the minivan, you jump in in complete eskimo mode with only the skinaround your eyes exposed so you look like the Michelin Man or a big Stay Puff marshmallow with huge American down ski coats. But once inside you are shoulder to shoulder with the 10 other adoptive parents, luggage crammed around your legs and backpacks on your lap. And the driver cranking the heat to the max. And even though the heater doesn't work much and he uses his gloves to defrost his windshield, it is still a sauna with the body heat even if he turns the heater off. On the train last night, everyone who was able to sleep amidst all the herky jerky fits and stops of the bouncing train awoke drenched in sweat as if fighting a horrible fever. There was only one tempature setting on the thermastat: HOT! Those who couldn't sleep left their compartment doors open and wandered down to the outdoor connecting platforms between the train cars to get some relief from the heat. Of course there were no windows to be opened anywhere, so don't ask mehow we were suppose to escape if there had been an emergency.

Now, as for the adoption process and news, I am very sad to have to report that our experience in Kirov was heartbreakingly difficult, painful and disappointing. I will be brief here for now, mainly because it is difficult to try to put in words the whole experience. I also would have a hard time putting our emotions, feelings and decisions into context since you really need to be in our shoes to understand what we experienced. Hopefully I can later put into words a more thorough description I can share with some ofyou, or just tell you about it in person or on the ph once we return.

The process itself left a lot to be desired, from our perspective. The other five adoptive couples (including one single woman and her mom) were all adopting younger babies or toddlers. They are great people whom we grew close to because of the shared life experiences of the past couple days.They were from CA, MN, IN, and Germany. Because their children were soyoung, there really weren't a lot of things for them to do to verify theirkids' health other than track eye movement, check for hearing, test gripstrength and verify measurements. They had all received photos as part oftheir referrals, along with the brief medical info on the child translatedinto English. We did not get such photos before leaving, despite everyeffort to do so. We were told (like many conflicting things in thisexperience) that to give out such photos of kids in advance was against thelaw here. Too much like baby peddling on the black market! Everyone hiresAmerican doctors who specialize in international adoptions to then reviewthe medical info and photos to help you determine the true physical anddevelopmental status and potential of the children. There is a big emphasison birth measurements, subsequent growth measurements, language and motorskill development and detection of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS), which is aserious problem in Russia with all the alcoholism. Our doctor (Russian bornand educated but practicing in the US) thought things looked good enough onpaper, but that without photos it was hard to tell how the girls were trulydoing or how they compared to similar institutionalized kids their age.

The sisters we met were cute and darling, as all children are. They had obviously been dressed up for the occasion. Couple by couple, the respectivekids were brought in to a large conference room where all the couplesanxiously waited with our videocameras poised and ready. It made me feeluncomfortable that this was like putting the kids on parade, although weexpected they would understandably be dressed up for a great firstimpression. When the two sisters were brought in, we both just had a sadreaction. They were cute, but very detached, distant, introverted, shy,scared, stiff and cold. Some of this we expected and thought we wereprepared for, but not to the extent they displayed. The other couplescheered and clapped and took pictures, especially since these girls wereactually walking into the room with their carregivers and were so differentfrom the babies. The younger sister (born 2.5 mos premature) walked verystiffly and with difficulty. It was a very hard experience to try to connectwith these girls in front of a room of onlookers to try to see if they wereas healthy as they had been presented to us on paper and if there was sometype of instinctive emotional connection or bond. From reading lots ofadoptive experiences of others over the past months or year, I knew thatsome parents experienced "love at first sight" when meeting their kids, andothers were honest enough to admit that it wasn't anything like that butjust comes with time and love. Sorta like regular childbirth, although Ihear a lot more love at first sight stories there because you know thishelpless little life is both totally dependent on you and is flesh of yourflesh. Anyway, considering how long it took me to realize that Debby is thegreatest, most beautiful woman on earth (we dated 5 yrs before I was readyfor marriage), I didn't expect the love at first sight experience with brandnew kids. I thought I was prepared to just love whoever we adopted and bethe best dad I could and let the rest take care of itself. But as we heldand talked to these kids, nothing felt right to me (or Debby). Somethingseemed wrong, like they just weren't there mentally. They stared off inspace, they wouldn't look at us, they didn't respond much, they stifflyfroze in our arms or on our laps. They were both very small, and the 2.5year old looked more like a 12 or 18 month old. They were so innocent and inneed of love, but we both felt that their challenges and needs were far morethan we had both prepared to handle. After a somewhat short amount of timetrying to get them to interact with us or respond to balls or toys or thingsaround the room, Debby and I tried for the first time to discreetly make eyecontact with each other and find out what the other one was feeling orthinking. As we saw the fear and doubt and disappointment in each others'eyes, we both knew that these were not meant to be our kids. And at thatrealization, I started to cry. Quietly and with embarassment at first, andthen not so quietly. And they were not tears of sadness or disappointmentfor us, but for these little girls in our arms that so desperately needed aloving home and family to care for them and for the shameful realizationthat we wouldn't be able to provide that to them. I cried because life is sounfair and cruel at times that these little girls could have already livedthrough neglect and abuse by their own family, only to come live for two yrsin a cold spartan orphanage, and then to be dressed up and paraded in frontof strangers and to not even know while they were being held that, throughno fault of their own, they were we already being rejected by thesestrangers. I know that may sound harsh, but that is how I felt. I feltselfish and small and judgmental for not being willing to accept theseinnocent girls with whatever their challenges were. But it just didn't feelright. And Debby and I had promised ourselves that we would have the courageand faith to follow our feelings, use our best judgments and trust in theLord to guide our decisions. We also remembered reading some good advice toprospective adoptive parents: "you are not on a humanitarian mission to savethe world or every needy child. You are trying to find the children that will be a part of your family." Andsince older children (12 mos +) and siblings (must be adopted together byRussian law) are so much harder to place with families, we felt that thechallenges that will naturally come with kids we were looking for would bemore than enough on our plate. Adding more known challenges or disabilitieswould be more than we were ready to handle up front. (Our adoption agencyknew that we wanted to adopt two healthy siblings somewhere in the ages of3-7 yrs old.)

To make a much longer story somewhat shorter, Helga the ice-queen adoptionagency lady brow beat us and derided us for our rush to judgment andconvinced us to spend more time with the girls and let their instructor showus their development. While we were glad to see the girls open up with thiswoman and do some simple activities in another exercise room, it only madeit harder to still stick with our decision. The girls clearly haddevelopment challenges that our doctor (and all the online medical andparenting info we had read) indicated would become much more problematic asthey got older. I will never forget them or the future that I hope they willhave.

Next up was the opportunity to meet the only other sibling pair in the Children's Home ("orphanage"). Normally they do not let parents up in thechildrens' bedrooms or playrooms, and for a couple reasons we were about tofind out why.

We went there to meet this 3 year old girl (with a brokenshoulder or arm that had been miss-set over 18 mos ago, but they tried to tell us that "she will grow out of it") and her 2 year old half brother. When we got there, all the kids were well behaved and half were sitting witha caregiver watching a soap opera on the tv and the other half were randomlyscattered all over the room entertaining themselves with various blocks ortrucks or Legos. None were scrubbed or ready for any fashion shows, exceptthe girl and boy we were introduced to. Her primping consisted of having herhair combed and he had on cute little shorts and some shoes. (A few kidswere literally sitting in their "potty bowls" and scooting around the roomlike they were driving race cars! Their potty training consists of sittingin a plastic bowl, about the size of a cereal bowl, and don't get up untilyou have gone. They were so cute with just their little bums fitting in thebowls while they used their arms and legs to scoot around the room until ateacher sent them back towards the bathroom corner!)

We didn't care about the two kids' clothes, hair or cleanliness, or even about her shoulder and arm. (Her elbow basically bent in the reverse direction of normal elbows.) We knew that the arm could be fixed in thestates, or at least it wouldn't affect her future like other challengeswould.

The boy was extremely small and had some strong indications of FAS. (We hadalready been warned that the Russians do not believe in FAS, so trying toask about it was futile. Especialy after the morning's experiences wherethey thought we were rude and judgmental not to accept the sisters.)

One of the biggest challenges, and a reason they don't normally letforeigners up in the kids' rooms, was that many of these kids were sostarved for affection that we were like raw meat being thrown to a pack ofwolves. Part of the experience was fun to be able to play with so many kidsand just help light up their life for one small moment. Part of it washilarious because we were literally mobbed and would have three or four kids grabbing our legs with their arms trying to steal our attention from whoeverelse we were talking to or playing with at the moment. And a big part of itwas again gut-wrenchingly sad because so many of them were starved forattention and affection, calling us mama or papa, and even getting pretty physical with the other kids to get our attention or be the ones to playwith us.

Worst of all, for us personally, it quickly became aparent that these twosiblings were also detached, introverted, withdrawn and significantly slowerthan the other kids. Something wasn't there mentally. Occasionally we couldget them to smile, but for the most part there was a vacant or hollow look,even when we would call their name or they would be on our lap. We spent themost time with them to try to get to know them (plus the orphanagedoctor/administrator had gone thru their medical and family background withus earlier), but again felt like something was missing.

Worse yet, there were other kids who we did connect with in that room, thatwere very active, healthy and who were affectionate, playful and bright. Butof course they were not available for adoption! One's mom had cancer, whichis why he was there -- sorta like daycare. The other's mom was too poor totake care of him.

So, all in all, it was the longest most difficult day of my life. We feltlike we were literally making life and death decisions (at least for some ofthese kids and for the literal future of our family), even if that sounds alittle melodramatic. It was harder than we ever imagined. We doubtedourselves many times during the day. I can't tell you how sad and hard andpainful it was. The good news is, that by the end of the day, as sad as itwas for us and the siblings we didn't accept, we definitely felt a peace inour hearts that we had made the right decisions. And that is all we couldask for. We are grateful for that peace and calm and look forward towhatever happens next. Hopefully our adoption agency will provide anotherreferral of kids somewhere else in Russia while we are still here. We arescheduled to come home Thursday, but would stay thru the weekend if thatmade a difference to go meet other kids.

This has been WAY longer than I intended and I hope the personal nature ofit doesn't offend anyone. It was a difficult process for us to go through,so I wouldn't be surprised if some don't understand what I tried to explain.Hopefully we will yet have good news to report. We have faith that we camehere for a reason, even if it is just to teach us things about ourselves,our future family, the wonderful Russian people and the importance ofchildren, love, service and families.

We hope you are doing well and preparing for a beautiful Christmas seasonthat means even more to us than normal this year.

Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers. They have been very needed andhelpful.

Robert and Debby

#2 - Kremlin/Red Square Report

Russian Update:

Hello from Red Square and the Walls of the Kremlin! It is very hard tobelieve that we are actually here in Moscow! (Yes, that means we survived our flights to Moscow without incident.)

We arrived yesterday morning, Saturday, and immediately began sight-seeing. The weather was gorgeous, even though it was freezing. Everyone told us how lucky we were to have clear blue skies. Today we know what they were talking about. Yesterday was Freeeeeezing cold. I am getting a head ache cold. Ithink I am going to die cold. Om my gosh I can't feel my ears or nose cold!!! Bbbrrrrrr! And now today was a tad warmer cuz it has snowed all day. Dry little flakes and big fat wet flakes. Our hotel is right across thestreet from St. Basil's Cathedral with the famous multi-colored onion tops of the spires and towers.

Today we went to go find a small congregation of our church. I would never have guessed that the communist Russia/soviet Union of my youth would actually have freedom of religion and such a diversity of religions now allover the place. And What an adventure it was trying to find a Mormon church in Moscow! It turns out we had an address for the office of the local church, and not one of the chapels. So we finally gave up and droped into a small Russian Orthodox neighborhood church. I will never forget that visit today. The people were so poor and yet so faithful. There were no chairs or pews at all and very few lights. But lots of candles. And a crowd of people in a corner with the priest singing and chanting. Every now and then the crowd would sing along with him and it truly sounded heavenly. It is hard to describe how beautiful and simple their voices sounded echoing off the cavernous shell of an amazingly painted old building. Their actions of prayer, dramatically making the sign of the cross (more than any other Catholics I have ever seen in western cultures - sometimes bending over and touching their toes for the bottom sign of the cross) and many of them kissing the feet of Jesus or the saints in the paintings was amazing. The singular act of faith by everyone there (men and women, young and old) that touched me by far the most, was when at the end of the service, the priestheld out this beautiful gold cross and the crowd literally surged towards him as they all hurriedly leaned forward to kiss it. Just like when the Governor reaches into a crowd of excited fans when working a ropeline, these humble and believing people were joyously eager to kiss the outstretched cross of the servant of God. It was something different from anything I had ever seen. From our western culture it would be easy to look at it as something simple or unsophisticated or of a herd mentality. But all I can say is that I was really moved. These people with so few material goods seemed powerful in their hope and faith. Although the man who helped us with directions to our church quickly told us that he and his family were all atheists, I will never again think of the Russian people as a godless mass of people who casually accepted Lenin and Marx's communist ban on religion.There are beautiful churches everywhere here.

Anyway, so much more to write but running out of time now. We are on the overnight train out of Moscow for a 13 hour trip to Kirov. There are 5 other couples in this group that we just now met - all going to the same orphanage to adopt. All of them have pics of their kids, but we are still waiting tosee for the first time the two sisters that have been referred to us. It is a weird feeling to be going through this process all of a sudden with awhole bunch of strangers but on the same time table. We have two facilitators helping us - Tatiana and Luba, the frmr is also our translator. Both are stereotypical Russians. One is small, slender and blonde (in her 20s) and the other very matronly with red hair, full length fur coat and in her 50s.

By this time tomorrow our lives will be very different - whether it works out with these two girls being healthy and everything they have told us about them, or even just because of the experience of being one step closerto finding the kids that are meant to be part of our family. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. More to come whenever we r back in cell range in a day or two.

Robert and Debby

#1 - 'Twas the Blog Before Russia...

'Twas the Blog before Russia
And all thru plane,
All the travelers disheveled,
As if from hurricane.

We sit on the runway
Like overdressed sweating Eskimos
But here in Atlanta
Its a bright sunny hot day!

With Debby and I frantically packing all nite
Not a moment of sleep was anywhere in sight.
Passengers and attendents all give us Congrats,
But a few honest souls think that we're cracked.

900 km north of Moscow we go
The high temp will be 10 F surrounded by snow

Ok, I am a horrible poet. Worse when sleep deprived, anxcious, nervous and facing 10+ hrs in this chair. Gotta go. More updates if possible.

(With all the layers of clothes this place smells like a locker room and tons of languages spoken. And a few other wide eyed adoptive parents are easy to spot. We r the ones fearing for our lives and smiling. Cautiously.:-) maybe this would be a good time to take up drinking Vodka?!?)

Desvidanya! Now dash away Delta, dash away all!