Document Day

Day 9 – Monday, 21 December

Google the word “Monday” and I’m sure you’ll find the following definition: “Retribution for a leisurely Sunday.” Our translator and I were both up around 7:30. She scurried out the door a little after 8, and told us that we would be needed maybe around 10 or 11.

Perhaps at this point, a cross-functional process diagram might be helpful, but I’m just not inclined to fire up Visio. Feels too much like work. Suffice to say there are many reviews and authorizations and circular escalations to create each document in the process, and there are several documents created in sequence for each adoption. Our role is to wait quietly until our signatures are required, then scramble to the Notary’s office to show our passports and sign many copies of a document, and then wait quietly some more until the next document is ready.

We were prepared for a very busy Monday, but we’ve found that our translator is the one doing allllll the work. She is running around from office to office getting the documents drafted and approved and approved again and edited and re-approved, and then sending a car for us, and then sending us back home again. We simply maintain a state of readiness; prepared to leave the apartment at a moment’s notice.

So, we got ourselves all coffeed up and ready to face the world, and then…nothing. The phone finally rang around 11, and our translator said “Maybe it will be a little while longer. I will call you when we are ready for you.” Hmm. That could mean 15 minutes or 4 hours. I hopped online, downloaded emails, replied to emails, did a little work, read a half a book, and generally waited. Mark’s been able to dig into of lot of documentation for his work, but I’m having trouble getting too deeply engrossed in anything, because we have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But we can’t sit and stare at the wall, either.

Finally, about 1:45, the phone rang. “In ten minutes, you will go downstairs. There will be a black car with a horse on the front. You will get in. It will bring you to me.” Felt like The Godfather, Ukrainian Edition.

Thirty minutes later, we were walking back into our apartment, our work for the day finished. Turns out all we needed to do was walk in, sign a couple pages, and go back home. Signed documents in hand, our translator bolted out the door and off in another direction for more scurrying.

Around 4:00, the phone rang again. Our translator was in the car downstairs, ready to take us to the orphanage to see Lena. Scramble around, run downstairs, pile in the car.

The orphanage was bustling…the children were preparing for an anniversary celebration to be held tomorrow, with a big program of singing and dancing by the children. Unfortunately, with the flu quarantine, we would not be allowed to attend the performance. Lena appeared in her costume, panting and tired from practice. She hugged us, then ran upstairs to change clothes. She reappeared, accompanied by two friends. And an intricately folded paper bird. Her friend presented us with this beautiful swan; we had seen some similar pieces in the visiting room the day before, so the girls had made one for us that morning!

We were able to hang out for about an hour while our translator worked in the office on some more documentation. Lena asked us to quiz her on reading numbers; I wrote a 4-digit number on my notebook, and she read it off in English. We chatted a bit, looking up translations in the Russian/English dictionary as needed, and asking our translator to clarify as she popped in and out of the room. We didn’t need too much help, though…Lena has been practicing her English, and she’s really getting good.

We went through all the family photos, and learned that Lena thinks the trees behind our house remind her of the forest in the Twilight movie. She practiced her new signature, Elena Grace Niles, adding curlicues and flourishes, and being certain that it reflects her personality. Lena asked many questions about Masha and school. It’s clear that she’s nervous about the big change ahead of her, but that she’s getting excited, too.

Around 5:30, we left the orphanage and headed to a local pizza place for a bite. As we stood in line, our translator’s phone rang. It was her boss, who was also in town working with the other family. They chatted for a minute and devised a plan to have a little party with both families at our apartment after dinner. We quickly ate our pizza and then stopped at the store to stock up on party supplies—sausage, cheese, bread, olives, and of course, chocolates and vodka.

As they arrived, we scrambled to try to find chairs enough for everyone, and then gathered around the table in our tiny kitchen. We toasted and ate and talked and laughed all evening, and had a great time getting to know the other family, and getting to know our translators better. We learned a lot:

• One person pours drinks for everyone at the table
• It’s bad luck for women to pour drinks in a mixed group
• When a bottle is emptied, the person whose glass is filled last makes a wish, blows it into the empty bottle and then seals the bottle up
• It’s bad luck to leave an empty bottle on the table
• Ukrainians love their vodka!

Our translator’s boss regaled us with stories of Ukrainian history and tradition, while sitting on an upturned bucket (since we didn’t have enough chairs). We thought the other family might turn into pumpkins, as they had taken the train down the night before and hadn’t slept for a while, but they are troopers, and the vodka flowed until after 11:00.