Almaty Adoption Archives - Stephanie Karp

A is for Almaty!

Stephanie Karp — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 08:11:00 +0000

I write to you from the hotel lobby of Hotel Kazakstan. Now as you sleep, Gary and I fight off exhaustion as it is 2:10 pm here and we must stay awake to have some semblance of normalcy. We have arrived safe and sound after a total door to door travel of 25 hours. It was doable though the most unbearable were the cramped leg situation. I kept a journal during my flights and will gladly post these thoughts when I can. For now I tell you that in a nutshell, on the plane I had thoughts of grandeur as I listened to my favorite adoption songs and felt the excitement mount. Many exhausted hours later, arriving in the pitch black of early morning before dawn to a driver that did not speak English and only gestured, to a room that had more problems than you could count and prevented us from getting any sleep, I felt like crying, such was my extreme homesickness. But the light began to filter through our windows and I finally saw the snow capped mountains in the distance. I spoke to some friends on IM and then to my mom on Skype. Our toilet was finally fixed and the lock on the door as well. I organized my extensive suitcase collection in this tiny standard not what we are used to room and then went down to breakfast where the sun shone more through the glass windows of the hotel. Cup of coffee in hand (4 in fact), and delicious hot food in my belly, Gary and I finally punched knuckles and this meant it is all going to be okay. We met Tatyana at 11 am and I felt like I have known her a long time. I used to live in an entirely Russian neighborhood and she reminded me of this. Winds up, who would have thought that my Kazakh living, Russian born adoption coordinator lived in Brooklyn from 1998 to 2003 on Emmons Avenue next to Maria’s restaurant. For those who don’t know, this is FIVE blocks from where I lived on Emmons Avenue during those same years as a newlywed and then new mom to Emma. She and I spoke about shopping at Loehmann’s! Perhaps our paths crossed long before today. We went to lunch at Venezia’s, a nice and clean pizza restaurant, where a children’s party was going on. The Kaz kids sure are cute, but Gary still gravitates towards the girls. They are really pretty, in truth. Tatyana told us more about how the day tomorrow will go. The important thing is that tomorrow I will meet the little boy she feels quite possibly can be our son. There is nothing set in stone and I have no idea how tomorrow will play out. I have found out a little about him, but very little, so I prefer to see for myself tomorrow if this is all the case. I am cautiously optimistic but also realistic. I do know that in general, after feeling quite overwhelmed and scared this morning upon arrival, I am quite relaxed down with the sun at my back while I type this out in the lobby. I thought of so many of you upon my travels — after all, I had 25 hours to do so

Julie Clifford — if you are reading this, I feel to be in good hands. Thank you again, so very much, for getting us to this place.

All my best,

Steph and Gary rockin’ it out in Almaty!

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Waiting for Pick Up

Stephanie Karp — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 03:09:00 +0000

So here we are, Stephanie and Gary, waiting in the hotel room sitting on our unmade tiny and hard bed (though sleep was good last night) with Gary busying himself with organizing stuff, or maybe he’s just pacing, I can’t really be sure. I am here in Almaty looking out the window as I type at a gray mid morning sky and the snow capped mountains in the distance. The blare of rush hour traffic horns reach up to our room on our 11th floor. Soon we will be on that road to Baby House #3 to meet a boy that God willing will become our son. The emotions I have now are unique to anything I have ever felt, but the most surprising thing is, there is a part of me that feels extremely calm and peaceful here as I wait. I can only hope this feeling will transfer into the Baby House and into the Director’s office where, on bended knee and with a soft voice, I will offer a brightly colored toy and a ball, to a little boy who I can only pray will look at me too.

I still feel like I am dreaming. That this moment is not really happening and this is just an extensive and most vivid dream that I have ever had in my life. But Gary assures me this is real and we are here. We have had many discussions about what is about to happen shortly and the reality is that we won’t know how it will play out until we are there.

Once today happens, I hope to spend more time uploading the photos from yesterday when Gary and I took a one hour walk, stopped into the pharmacy (imagine gesturing for hand moisturizer and being offered soap and body wash and finally getting it right.) It is a strange land, this place called Almaty. So gray and misty/foggy/smoggy with trees so tall and barren. All signs on the street and advertisements are brightly colored and look like signs you see in Asian stores at home (sort of outdated in a way.) I know that in the Spring and Summer, this city, with streets lined with more trees that you can count, is very lush. But I know given time, it will be a place I will think of fondly as it will be the land in which my son was born.

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We have found our boy! And I feel thrilled!

Stephanie Karp — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 07:43:00 +0000

Written Monday, December 14, 2009 Almaty at Noon

Exhausted and emotionally fatigued but happy and relieved. There is a little boy, about 2 years old, who made me cry with joy and relief upon seeing him when they walked him in, a reaction I did not expect to have. I never even cried at the moment of my wedding or births, but this was a relief of built up emotion and relief that he was cute and here in front of me and a feeling in my gut that told me this would all work out.

At 9:35 am, after another hearty breakfast, we were picked up by our driver, Emankule.

[Notes from my journal notebook say: In car now ready to pick up Tatyana at the City Hall and head to the Baby House. Feel anxious but calm and hopeful.

9:50 pm: Just met Tatyana at City Hall and signed our names in a registry for allowance to visit the Baby House. It was a quick in and quick out. Weather is brisk but comfortable, sun is shining. Gary has jacket open, likes the weather, seems relaxed, joked that it seems that we are on a secret mission here. Our driver Emankule uses gestures and we just follow him and go. He is a former athlete, a wrestler. A tiny man but strong with gold teeth and a nose that looks as if it’s been broken a good many times. Now we are back in the car waiting for Tatyana to come out again with the paper she needs for us. The car is a comfortable Lexus (Tatyana’s son works at a dealership in Florida) and no seatbelts are used (they are hidden beneath this grey furry seat comforter and for now I have not asked for them to be revealed. I will soon.) Russian Lite-FM style music is playing on the radio. Feel at peace.]

This is a photo of Gary waiting in front of Almaty’s City Hall right before we headed to the Baby House #3 for the first time.

When the car slowed ten minutes later and we entered a complex with low buildings and an impressive playground area, I asked “Is this it?” We got out of the car and Gary and I touched pinkies, a gesture we have always used to show solidarity together. From here everything happened so quickly. We entered the baby house doors to a darkened foyer with silvery threads of streamers hanging down, festive for the holidays, but the atmosphere was spare and quiet. I said to Gary “I can not believe we are here.” Just as anticipated, the scent of cooking cabbage, a warm and homey scent, filled the air. Tatyana told us to sit on the couch but we didn’t, just stood looking at the ceiling strands. A minute later Tatyana poked her head back to us and said “We’re ready now.” She ushered us in to the Baby House Director’s Office just a few steps away where the director, in her white coat, sat stoically in the chair behind a desk wearing a medical mask. It was an odd feeling — I felt the reception from her to be such that I just not speak and follow along. I believe Gary and I nodded a smile and hello to her. We sat. I whispered (felt the need to) to Tatyana if I could take my jacket off. I did. A minute or less of back and forth in Russian from Tatyana to the Director. I was waiting for some big announcement to be made, some formal introduction of this boy, some paperwork to be looked through in front of me. But no, it was simply that the door to my right just opened up. It was approximately 10:05 am that I first laid eyes on the boy who will be my son.

I would never be able to tell you what the caregiver looked like because when the door opened to the Director’s office and in he walked holding the hand of a woman in white, my eyes couldn’t leave him. “Is this him? Is he the one?” I whispered to Tatyana. She nodded. He was scared and slow to enter the room, cried quite a bit and was offered candy to calm him (a rare treat, I am told), kept looking up at caregiver as if to say “help me” (all the while I thought this was a natural thing and therefore a good sign) but I didn’t get too close when I offered him the balls, and he came toward me, attempting to hold back tears. Sniffling and looking back at the caregiver who coaxed him with the words of “Mama” and “Papa”. My dear Gary got the first small giggle and smile when he kept throwing the ball up — it was this gesture that was met with that brief smile. Thank you so much to those who told me they wished they had taken a photo the first day they met their child, because we did take a photo though not of me holding him. There is some brief video of him playing and other video of me holding him trying to console this crying boy who was really scared not of me per se, but the situation I presented. I will try to get a prettier photo tomorrow, as the photo I have now shows a very scared looking post crying boy. But I will post this as well tomorrow.

Let me describe him for you — He is about 2 years old and is Kazakh. What struck me first upon seeing him is a cute button nose and a very pronounced dimple or cleft in his chin. He has light brown hair cut into a lovely but mild mullet. His eyes are dark brown, cute little upturned Asian eyes and his lips look full and so are his cheeks. He was dressed very warmly with knit tights under his dark khaki pants, socks and green wool shoes which closed with a button with rubber soles. He had a winter themed red and gray striped sweater on and likely was wearing a shirt under it as well. And he had a runny nose, which for those who know me and my pet peeve about runny noses, I did not have a problem wiping Batyr Han’s nose. This is his first name, two words, though I am not certain how to spell it. A google search has revealed that Batyr in Kazakh means Leader, Man of Courage, Hero, Athlete and also, most interestingly The Dashing Equestrian.

I went to hold him when he was crying, even though I was the cause of his distress. He felt fairly light, didn’t struggle but clearly wasn’t happy. Gary seemed very concerned for him and wanted the caregiver back to make Batyr Han feel safe. Back to the floor as this was a less stressful situation for him so we played with a huge stacking ring toy and he really seemed to enjoy putting the rings on the pole. I made the brief mistake of trying to help him find the correct side of the pole to insert — a mistake because I know that “exploration” is all of the fun. I won’t do it again — Let him explore this new world! I heard him babbling a bit and he kept saying “Ma” but I later found out that it is Kazakh for “take” and this makes sense as he kept handing me and Gary balls and rings. When the care giver eventually came to get him in the play room where we did ultimately settle in at 10:15 am, a full 40-50 minutes after we first saw him, he actually seemed reluctant to leave. He was carried off and that was it. When we left the play area, I heard children’s music coming from upstairs and again was met with the cooked cabbage scent, which made me feel thankful for knowing that this scent would be part of my experience, like hundreds of people before me.

What happily surprised me very much is that when we came back to the hotel room, Gary wanted to watch the video of Batyr Han a few times. And later still, asked for me to show him the photos again.

I can’t thank you all enough for your love and support during this time. When I read your posts and emails and messages on here and Facebook, I am touched beyond belief and do not feel so far away.

Tomorrow we visit with Batyr Han from 4-6 pm. I don’t think the time will come fast enough for me.

View out our window of Hotel Kazakhstan — Late afternoon, Monday December 14, 2009

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