Proud to be an American

Wednesday, June 23, 2011

I was very excited to visit the US Embassy here in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  We wore Red, White and Blue today in honor of the occasion!  I’ve never been to a US Embassy.  As far as a building goes, it was, um, underwhelming…a very plain edifice that you’d just drive past and not think anything of.  The building was no big shakes, but what happened inside sure was!

We had the same appointment time as the Skinners (9AM – yep, right at naptime again!) and got to enjoy all of this with them.  I knew that cameras were not allowed inside (they “coat check” cell phones and cameras at the front door), so when we got out of the car across the street we intended to take our Embassy photo there and just leave the cameras in the car.  We assembled for a nice group photo when a guard came running across the street saying, “no pictures!”  Of course, we immediately complied.  Well sadly, I have no pictures to show of this wonderful experience…

As soon as we signed in and went through security in a small ante-building, we entered an outdoor courtyard.  I teared up and felt faint, fanning myself to keep from doing so…my emotions were at a high.  We were on U.S. soil!  Home for us, and soon to be for Kate.  This outdoor area was filled with cement block benches where lots of people were waiting, mostly Ethiopians hoping to be granted a visa themselves to the States.  We had already been approved for Kate’s visa and were here for the final “interview.”  Our new daughter was with us and we were jumping this LAST AND FINAL HURDLE!  It was all coming together!

Our attorney from the adoption agency arrived and ushered us inside to the “take a number and have a seat room.”  There were about 200 chairs in the room facing 15 glass windows each numbered. These windows looked like the will call booth for a stage play, you know, where you slide your ID under the glass in the silver plated tray and they hand you back your tickets.  A sign flashed numbers, corresponding to an unenthused intercom voice calling out the same. 

Well, I couldn’t sit.  Too excited.  I felt like fainting and crying and jumping up and down and shouting.  Nope.  No sitting for me.  American images abounded.  Lady Liberty; the Grand Old Flag; the Capitol building lit up at night; pictures of our President and Secretary of State (who had just been here for a visit 2 weeks ago), bulletin boards littered with notices about this and that pertaining to Ethiopians trying to gain a visa to the U.S.  Oh, and don’t forget the flat screen TVs bolted high on a wall for all to be mesmerized by our glittering entertainment.  Let’s see…on one wall it was “Days of our Lives,” um-hum, and the wall nearest to us was “The Today Show with Kathie Lee and Hoda Someone.”  Oh brother.  To be honest, it kind of dampened my patriotic swellings and I was disappointed it was even there.  I mean, why weren’t they at least playing “The West Wing” or “American President?” (J)  But like most people in the room, I began to succumb to the mind-numbing flashing box and I will admit that it did help to pass the time and give us topics to be snarky about!

So about those people in the room.  The vast majority were Ethiopians and very happy to see all of our babies.  Sweet.  There were about 10 or so other American couples there to adopt babies.  It became evident that Booth #15 was where such couples were called.  We observed.  It was happy what happened there at that booth.  They arrived at the glass nervous and left hugging and kissing and walking away as a newly formed family.  Couples of all shapes and sizes with enough means to get themselves there adopting kids of all ages, with no means whatsoever.  Awesome.

Our name was called.  It was our turn.  I turned around to the Skinners as we walked up giving a silent, but obviously intended to be high-pitched squeal and double fist pump!  This was it.  Esther warmly and professionally greeted us behind the bullet proof glass.  She asked us to raise our right hands and swear that everything in this file (she placed her palm on a 1/2 thick manila folder with papers spilling out the sides) was true and accurate.  We agreed that it was, actually not having a clue as to what file this was that she was referring to, but assuming it was all that PAPERWORK we’ve been working on for 18 months!  We moved on.  Passports please.  Duly supplied.  Next was her checklist.  She asked us questions like, Did we know anything about the birth parents?  Had we previously met Kate?  What was our court date?  Etc. Etc. The point of the embassy interview is to make sure our story matches that file.  That it’s all copasetic and legit.  No stolen children or human trafficking or anything else terrible that, shamefully, happens every day across the globe.  Esther went through each section of her checklist giving us very pleasant responses and eye contact the entire time barely glancing down at the check boxes she deftly marked through with her blue ballpoint pen.  Embassy employees milled about behind her, working.  I never really looked past her now that I think about it.  I loved Esther at that moment (just like how I loved the anesthesiologist in the operating room during Keira’s C-section.  What was his name again?).  Then came the rubber stamp.  The rubber stamp!  I stood straight at attention and held my breath.  She pounded that thing down and proudly proclaimed, “This adoption is official and final!”

I cried.  We both hugged and kissed Kate, who had been, um, PERFECT this entire time.  We expressed our thanks.  Esther congratulated us.  She gave us a bunch more papers and I still haven’t even looked at them.  Don’t care.  They’re in my bag.  We have Kate.  Officially and Finally.  Yes! 

The Skinners went next and were similarly “approved.”  We made quite a scene of hand shaking and hugging and wiping our eyes.  I’m sure in that moment we were way better entertainment that Kathie and Hoda sampling margarita popsicles.  We headed back outside to say our good-byes to the attorney who has done more behind the scenes for our cases then we’ll probably ever know.  He does great work for a great many people.  Thank you, Sentayu.

Next was an American-style lunch of nachos, onion rings, pizza, burritos, sodas and beers.  Yes, we were hankering from some good old American junk food.  The Island Breeze restaurant was a respite for me on the last trip with familiar tasting foods.  It wasn’t as great this time, but still a welcome change from what we’ve been eating.

We returned to Toukoul Orphanage for our doctor’s appointments.  This is a chance to ask any more questions about the medical records they supplied (pretty much unreadable anyway) or about your baby’s health history.  We didn't learn too much that was new, except that Kate had the chicken pox when it went around the orphanage a few months ago (can you imagine taking care of 240 children under the age of 2 with the chicken pox?  Heavens to Betsy!).  It is not recommended to return once you’ve “checked out” as your child may get confused or upset.  But the doctor had postponed us to today, so we didn’t have a choice.  Thankfully, our babies were all young enough to not really notice and we steered clear of any of their nannies.

And we stopped by a grocery store for some "goods."

Then it was home to crash.  What a day!