First stumbles

Everything has gone along very well...until now.  This morning--Thursday, we were hoping to go to the office that will do Elyas' birth certificate, then in the afternoon to the emigration office that will issue his Ethiopian passport.  These things (all the steps) have to be done sequentially, and the second can't start without the documents generated from the first.

So, since the birth certificate office does not have internet access this morning, the whole process stops.  Until they get access.  Whenever that might be.  Which nobody knows.   So we wait.  Which we're not that good at doing.

Also, Peter and Elyas had their first falling out.  They bickered over a Lego set Sandy brought.  We are all really tired...I mean REALLY tired.  So that compounds the problem.  And now Elyas is doing the Lego on his own while Peter, Sandy, Yosef and I play Uno and Nerf basketball.

Of course this had to happen at some point, but it gnaws at you.  And strains your already frayed nerves and overwrought senses.  And...it will pass.  Just awkward to wait, while you lack the language resources to help.

The Ugly American and the ugly American

You've probably heard the phrase ugly American.  But you might not know it's source.  A prescient and depressing novel by that name--published in 1958--was written by a naval officer serving in SE Asia and a political scientist.

The titular character was not, however, loud and boorish, as the contemporary pejorative has it.  Rather, Homer Atkins was physically ugly, but did the right things in service to the people of Sarkhan--a fictional composite based heavily on Viet Nam.  He and his wife lived among the people, out in the countryside.  They learned the language, ate the food and worked in collaboration with the people to address their difficulties.  For instance, when the village needed to create a system to raise water from one terrace to the next, Homer collaborated with a villager who seemed handy with tools, and together they built a pump system from materials and gear that they had available to them. Bicycle parts were an integral feature of this pump.  Importantly, he did not simply order a pump from a Western aid agency.  To do so would have not allowed the villagers to solve their own problems in a sustainable way.

The novel, of course, included many ugly Americans, to be sure.  The authors characterized them as tone deaf to the local society and its cultural patterns, wanting primarily to have a kind of working holiday in the country.  They wanted to speak English, eat their preferred foods, enjoy cocktail parties and have numerous inexpensive servants...in an exotic locale.

I provide this brief literary analysis in order to say that I feel my ugliness while here.  I try not to be loud, but it's an unconscious competence (!).  I want to "enter in," but so far I know approximately 13 Amharic words.  We--Sandy and I--are curious, but we're reliant on kindly and helpful Ethiopians (all of whom--even the least Anglophonic--have much better English than we have Amharic).  And I don't want to be boorishly consumerist, but we live the suite life (with 3 maids cleaning our room each day) in our 2000 sq. ft. while we look out over shanties.  And I get edgy and panicky when we can't get on the web for 48 hours.

I don't want to be saying this as a way to exorcise my "appropriate" Western guilt.  I don't know if I feel guilty, and I don't know if I should exorcise that if I do.  Or, if there's guilt, it's not that I have, and they don't.  It's that I've done so little with what I have.  You know...to whom much is given much shall be required.

We'll keep working at it, but we've got a long way to go.

We are all together!

 Yosef is more than our driver!  Here he's playing a little paddle ball game with Peter...in our suite's living room.

Wednesday afternoon (writing in a word document again, as we lost internet access a few minutes after we got home).

We picked up the court decree, took it to the orphanage and picked up Getabalew!

It has been quite a day, if I do say so.  

Soon after we got there, we had to leave abruptly.  The orphanage director got a call that a government inspector was coming...and apparently these folks are not fond of international adoptions, so she preferred that we not be there.  

So we four, Yosef--our driver, and one of the caregivers from the orphanage walked to the school.  I’ve included one picture of that short--but circuitous, so as to avoid the main street--walk.  

When we arrived, the school broke into pandemonium.  Everyone poured out of their class rooms and yelled for Getabalew.  They all gathered around him, then around Peter, then around us...it was all quite overwhelming.  I’ve included some photos of that.

After a while, we headed back, and sat down to a conversation with the orphanage director, took some photos with various staff, and said a few goodbyes (though we will be going back for a party).  

It was all somewhat emotional.  Part of me felt bad...we’re ripping him out of an environment where he has many loving friends and caregivers, and I don’t want to be flip about the fact that there are losses for him.  Yes, we may ultimately represent more and better prospects for him--I believe that, otherwise it seems selfish and even immoral to do this, but there are things he’s losing, at least in the short-run.

So we left, and eventually returned to our hotel.  And already you can see some personality, which we hadn’t known or couldn’t know yet.  He is enamored of Peter’s headphones, and so is walking all around our suite with them around his neck.  No sounds are attached...they just look good.  He even “wore” to the restaurant we visited tonight.

And he seems to be plenty willing to try to keep up with Peter in--how shall I say it--demonstratively expressive dancing...to no music, mind you.

So far (about 8 hours total), they both seem eager for each other, which, though not much of a sample to go on, is certainly more reassuring than if they were disinterested.

He also is intent on changing his name to Elias, or Elyas (ell-yas, not uh-lie-us)...the Amharic version of Elijah.  In fact, he seems intent on several things, as in he seems to have his own mind on things.  Quietly, but definitively so.

So, we’re calling him Elyas now.  

He does have some English skills.  I brought the Engelman book, Teach your child to read in 100 lessons, but I tried various parts of the book, and I think he’s beyond that already.  The orphanage director and the teachers all reported that he’s a very good student, and a quick study.

 Kids at school crowding around Peter.

The lunch area.

 Everyone was so excited they hoisted Getabalew--Elyas--on their shoulders.

 More interest in Peter.

 Everybody is interested in smart phones!

 The class, with Peter and Yosef.

Sandy talking with one of Elyas' old teachers.

We met!

It has been quite a day!  (This past Monday, that is--I’m writing in a word document, hoping to paste that into an email or a blog post when we can get on the web.  Service is spotty, and we hear different explanations, or different speculations, about why.  I haven’t been able to get on since Sunday night....)

Monday morning, we awoke at 3...Peter, especially, was ready for the day!  So we went to the breakfast buffet first thing.  Then our driver picked us up about 8:45 to head over to the orphanage.  I’m particularly grateful for our very pleasant and capable driver, as I would not want to drive here.  It would take me hours to calm back down, I think.  While they all understand what is happening and the order of things on the road, it would take me some time to become accustomed to that.

We arrived right about 10, and, as I entered the gate last, Sandy and Peter had already met Getabalew...and the numerous other youngsters playing in the small courtyard at the orphanage.  Not much ceremony, but I don’t know how or why they’re would’ve been.  

After introductions, we went inside to sit down and visit.  Sandy and Peter and he talked some, using an introductory Amharic-English vocabulary book we had brought.  Ah...that book.  I had ordered it about 3 weeks before we were to leave, and the company said our order was complete on November 26.  Two weeks and two emails (with no response) later, I had given it up.  Well, as we were locking the door of the house and piling into the car to leave, the postal carrier pulled up with the day’s mail...including the book.  I’m glad for that, because it served as a vehicle for interaction several times in those 2 hours.

Eventually, we headed back out to the little courtyard, and Getabalew and Peter took up a little soccer.  Getabalew was very adept and they passed back and forth happily.  Then Getabalew--with a subtle look of challenge--motioned Peter to approach him, as a defender.  From here, Getabalew “schooled” Peter, as his ball skills are sharper than Peter’s.  

Peter seemed genuinely enthusiastic--for the soccer, and the conversation, all of it.  He asked Getabalew to show him around the house again--just the two of them, after we had all gone earlier.

We’ll go to court today--Tuesday.  Then, if all works as it should, we’ll go to the orphanage to pick him up...for good!

Works as it should...not always the case.  Whether it’s infrastructural difficulties, like the electricity--some outlets apparently are never even wired, or more procedural difficulties that I can’t figure out, like our wi-fi being completely out and being told it has something to do with the government, there are many things we’re having to figure out how to navigate.

The orphanage is a large home in a neighborhood mixed with substantial houses and shanties side by side.  Yosef--our driver--said there is no middle class in Ethiopia, just some rich and a lot of poor.  Rich, of course, is relative.  The whole country of almost 100 million people produces an annual gross domestic product not quite equivalent to Bill Gates’ net wealth.

Peter gets a lot of looks.  The combination of his being brown but obviously not from Africa, being in the company of the only Caucasians in sight, and having hair like he does draws a lot of attention.  And, as Yosef, later explained, he does have a facial similarity to southern Ethiopians, so we do asked if he’s from Ethiopia.

[Writing Wednesday morning]

Court went swimmingly.  We were to the be there at 9, and they started at 9:30...and we were first!  Come to find later that was because our case is the oldest...Getabalew had been waiting longer than any of the other cases to be heard that day.

The judge asked us about 10 questions--have you met the child, do you still want to adopt him, are you happy about this, do you understand that you cannot change your mind, and the like.  We simply had to say Yes to all the questions...no explanations, no discussion.  It took about 5 minutes--most of which was us sitting there while the judge looked at some of the details in our file.

We left, and moved to a new hotel--our residence the rest of the time, we think.  A very large suite--3 bedrooms, kitchen, large living room (more like a great room)...probably 2000 sq. ft. total.  For a pittance, really.  It’s a brand new building, but it reminds both Sandy and me of the Soviet construction we’ve seen in various parts of the Eastern bloc.  We’re very happy with it--the living room is large enough to play this paddle ball game Sandy brought with us.  We just need to figure out how work with some of the things that don’t function like we would have expected.

So, Yosef is headed over to pick us up--drop me somewhere there might be internet access and take Peter and Sandy shopping.  Then, if the court finishes the documents, it’s off to the orphanage to get Getablaew!

I hope that I’ll be able to post this (and some photos?!) before I also have the pick up process to detail to you....

 Reading the Amharic-English book together.  Getabalew has had some English.  Can't tell yet how much, but much better than my Amharic!

Americanizing him already?  Sandy showing Getabalew some photos of our house, of various people "back home," etc.

 Some soccer lessons...

Peter has been very eager to engage Getabalew.  Oh my...is Peter excited, wound up, on overdrive, whatever other analogies you can think of.  And if you know Peter, that means REAL intensity.  He has taken very nicely to all this.  He wants to walk to the little shop window (street shops are almost like windows in the wall) in our neighborhood and buy water, or bananas or whatever.  

We made it!

We are in Addis Ababa!

Arrived in pretty good shape--an overnight in Dubai between the flights was helpful.

Didn't really get any time in Dubai, as we arrived at 7 PM and left the next morning at 8.  Basically, we ate the dinner buffet, slept and ate the breakfast buffet and left.

Emirates is a great airlines to fly.  Good service, good food.  They also came along and took our picture--they only do that for kids, so it was for Peter.  Also gave Peter two small stuffed animals to keep.

Here's Peter's lunch...the box with an Emirates plane on it is so fun I kept it.  And they had a lunch for him, by name.

Arrived Addis Ababa about 2.  Visa, luggage screening, shuttle ride...arrived our hotel about 3:30.  Here's the view from our room.

Took a short walk around...some new modern buildings (like our hotel), and other buildings that are not.  Went to a small market, where all the staff were looking at Peter's hair.  Sandy and I were the only two Caucasian faces we saw.  I couldn't tell if we were getting looked at because of that, or because we had Peter, or both.

So tomorrow (Monday) a driver comes at 9 and we'll head over to orphanage.   A mix of excited and nervous.  I'll try to post tomorrow...after that happens.

It has been a long time...since I have posted here, and that we have been waiting to be able to post here.

Well, we'll be back at this site soon...I hope.  We'll be meeting Getabalew next week, and I will try to post updates here...if I'm able.  Word is that the Ethiopian government has placed some restrictions on web activity, in response to some unrest in the country.

I hope to keep you posted.
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Running on the Beach

Photos are uploading again....Okay. We have quite a backlog, then.
This is on the Oregon Coast--Lincoln City. More later. I was just testing to see if it worked.