55 Acres

I am feeling a bit bummed today.
The property that is behind the home we rent and around to the left is up for sale. 55 farming acres.
One mile down the road from us heading East there is another farming property for sale, 85 acres. That is so much land. Farms are not making it in this economy. Many of the towns around where we live have become summer hot spots with second home owners. In the winter its quiet, or more accurately dead. The farms are the basis of this community, as well as the plastics and lime plants. There is no easy life style when you live on a farm, even if its a farm that is not struggling. The overhead is oppressive and the weather can predict your future with its indecisiveness. Who will buy this land? Probably not a factory; no one can afford the insurance premiums to open one in the US anymore. A land developer that will build cookie cutter houses amongst the fields and cut down those pesky tree's? Probably not, because no one is buying homes these days. Take a drive down damn near every street in greater Berkshire County and you will see many homes for sale, new, old, tiny and very large. I count four on our road alone in additional to the land parcels.
Most likely some huge store to feed our American incessant need to shop. Cheap items from cheap labour. I'm thinking about all of this as we "go through" our house, again. We did this two years ago as we were saving for the adoption. After coming home from Africa though, and all the feeling of over indulgence I feel living here, I just want to purge and make living space. Usable, open space. Plus its just practical right now. It is so much work to weed through everything and not create emotional attachments to the material things. I was recently listening to peter Walsh on the radio talk about throwing away all your photos except for three albums of your very best. Throw them all away? Really? I cant do that yet, I haven't evolved. I hate shopping, I hate being in stores and yet I still accumulate, I just do not get it.
So we will weed through it all again, have another tag sale. I am hoping to make enough to buy a new clothes washer (I do not know how many times Fred has had to fix the agitator) or get the root canal done in my tooth before I have to have another one pulled (which is a forth coming post I have been thinking about, the lack of dentistry accessibility in our country and how it can define your socioeconomic status).
So here I am this afternoon logging on while my beautiful Kai sleeps, thinking about the housing crisis when I come across this information:
John McCain said in an interview with Politico on Wednesday "that he was uncertain how many houses he and his wife, Cindy, own."
"I think -- I'll have my staff get to you," McCain said. "It's condominiums where -- I'll have them get to you."
The answer, according to the group Progressive Accountability, is an even 10 homes, ranches, condos, and lofts, together worth a combined estimated $13,823,269.
John and Cindy McCain own a plethora of houses spread throughout the United States, including: two beachfront condos in Coronado, California, condo in La Jolla, California, a two-unit condominium complex in Phoenix, Arizona, three ranch houses located outside of Sedona, Arizona, a high-rise condo in Arlington, Virginia, a rental loft, and, according to GQ, a loft they bought for their daughter, Meghan.
In an economy where even Ed McMahon has his house defaulted on, it seems strange to me that anyone could be so out of touch with what everyday American citizens are dealing with. I mean this is a person who has never, ever had to pay for health care. Never. Beyond wealthy.
Watch Obama's "Seven" youtube ad.
And since I'm ranting on how much I dislike this person and it makes me unhappy to think people might vote for him as an actual presidential contender, I do not like the way both Sen. McCain or his wife Cindy discuss the adoption of their daughter either. It seems very callous and most people that I have come to know through international adoption are very direct and forthright on their decision to adopt. Let your daughters medical concerns be her own that she can talk to people about at her own pace. Jeez. Even before reading this particular article I had previously read Newsweek and thought, there is no way this woman wants to be First Lady, she has her own thing going.

But I digress.
For now we can bring the dogs for walks amongst the corn fields where they can run without leashes, chasing the birds. We can listen for the coyotes after the farm has poured manure in the corn fields out back, and see the prints of deer after it snows. I know its selfish to not want the land to sell, I understand the financial struggles that are connected to the difficult decision of selling. It's just so beautiful and so real. No pretenses. If you walk far enough you wont hear any cars, or construction, or people. Just nature, just the land.

Our trip to Ethiopia (part three)

The first week home is a blurr.

Jet lag had kicked my butt and sleep deprivation was kicking in. On Tuesday Kai went to the doctor's and got a clean bill of health. However I still have to bring him back for a follow up. When we got home Fred's family came over to visit, it was quite a group! Shane, Johnny, Omar and Bryan were visiting from the sunny city of Los Angeles which was excellent timing. The boys were great, so sweet and interested in everything. Fred's Mother, Aunt, brother Thomas and his girlfriend Kim were there as well. Kai got to meet his cousins and was sweet and animated, even though he was so, so sleepy. It was nice to see everyone. I wish we had more time to visit with the Stevens-Rios family before they headed back West...

That night Fred got absolutely sick. I have never seen him sick like that, it was terrible. I will spare you the nasty details.

Thursday Kiana was sick. It seems the sickly bugs just keep popping back up.

Kiana was absolutely enthralled with her brother those first few days. Thankfully I was able to get some sleep while she enjoyed dressing and playing with him. He adores Kiana, his whole face lights up when he sees her and often he will start bucking around in excitement. She gets a big kick out of this. I love the bonding it creates for both of them. I cant tell you what a relief it is for me to see that they feel such a connection. I know its all new right now, but this is a difficult adjustment for Kiana to make, and I think its a great start.

According to the records from the orphanage, Misikir only gained one pound during the time he was there. We may have already surpassed that :)

Kai loves to eat, and all the new flavours that Earth's Best can offer we are trying. So far I haven't found anything he will not eat. And- he has mastered the fine art of placing cheerios in the mouth, usually on the first try. He even enjoyed some avocado, although with the occasional funny face.

Kai Misikir can crawl fast, fast, fast. Even though his balance isn't perfect, he can pull himself up onto things like his book basket or someones knees. Sometimes he gets stuck in that position feeling too far from the ground to actually sit but not confidant enough to keep climbing. Its too funny (unfortunately blogger is still not posting my video clips which is very frustrating). At first Kai was quite scared of the animals, the dogs and the cat. Now he is becoming more interested, although Harley licking him to death does not help the situation. Kai gets very angry and flustered. Bella on the other hand enjoys Kai's body heat and will sit with him whenever Kiana is not around and especially in the car. Bindi usually stays just out of his reach, close, but not too close.

This little cutie patootie is so much fun, I just cant tell you. He has a great personality, expressive and alert. Not feeding him fast enough? He will let you know- loudly. Trying to remove your claddagh earring's and hide them in your fist in one swift move? Not fast enough, he's watching my hand and reaching for it. Bath time is a blast with splashing the number one favorite. Grass is still a little too prickly and scary to sit on, he would much rather sit in my lap and tap it with his hands. He has even, just once... slept through the night. In his own bed. Unheard of in my experience of Kiana's baby hood. I had wanted Kai to sleep in the bed with us family style, but when we tried it the first week he continually woke up and grabbed my face and pulled it towards him, it was very sweet. I don't have to tell you however, that neither he or I were getting much sleep with all that "cuddling". The first night he slept in his own crib he slept a long stretch of time, apparently needed by both of us. So now I make do with the occasional nap where mauling my face is still cute because its not 3:00am.

Teething is on our plate as well in a big way. Everything is available for a trial run in this little boys mind. For some reason though he is not a fan of the teething toys that can be refrigerated. They seem to surprise him with their coldness and he refuses to try again. The wooden ring is the favorite go to, and the binky of course.

Life is good- complicated, full of challenges and questions, but I still have it so, so good.

Our Trip to Ethiopia (part two)

Girma was very nice and welcoming to all the families that had travelled to Awassa. He explained we would be splitting up depending on where our child's relatives were located. We were quite disappointed to discover that our son's Grandmother and Aunt had come to Awassa to meet us, and that we would not be travelling to Aletachuko where Misikir was born. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful to be able to meet them, I had just hoped to video tape the village so that Misikir would have that some day. When I voiced my disappointment to Girma he promised to make an additional trip for my family after lunch. He suggested we retreat to the hotel, have some lunch and he would meet us when he returned from bringing the other families. Why it didn't dawn on me at the time to just ask our driver to accompany the other group, I will never know and always regret. As you might have guessed he never did return to bring us to the village of Aletachuko (Katy over at straightmagic has promised me video from their trip to the village, so nice).

The meeting with Kai's birth family was awkward, but I will always cherish the experience. If I had been thinking straighter I would have asked for more privacy as we had been stationed outside, but I wasn't thinking. I wanted to know so much, yet his grandmother was very soft spoken and reserved. Lenea took terrible video of the meeting that was later accidentally, partially taped over, but we have some of it left never the less. Things never work out quite the way you want them to, or expect them to.

I had written a letter to the birth family that Girma easily translated. She got teary eyed and shook our hands. Her hands trembled as she held the book of photos I had of Misikir. After no more than 20 minutes we were snapping some photos and waving good bye. I cried for the relationship both my son, and the woman of his life have lost. I can see Kai's face in the face of his young aunt, the shape of their faces and the high forehead. The large, lovely eyes and long eye lashes, the often changing eyebrow arc. It was glimpse of his future from his past.

Since we could not visit the village we decided to walk down to the river near the hotel in Awassa. There were many people celebrating their graduations from collage and many were dressed up and taking pictures. People were very polite and friendly to us, although even Lenea noticed she seemed to get the most peculiar looks. Many times during our trip people told Lenea she looked Ethiopian. But I think they were just trying to figure out her circumstances. During our walk Fred nodded his head at a gentleman as if to say hello, and the man turned and shook Fred's hand and told him to have a nice day. That kind of kindness and respect is always genuine- always appreciated.

After we returned our driver took us for a ride to the motel where parents used to stay overnight, to see the monkeys. I will admit I was very glad we didn't have to stay there. We might have needed mosquito nets which we didn't have.

Kiana loved admiring the monkeys and feeding them scraps from the tables (not that they weren't helping themselves already!). She was very concerned about the condition of the dogs and cats we met through out the trip. At this location there was a neighborhood dog with a very infected eye hanging around us. Kiana made sure to feed her although I would not let her touch the dog for fear of disease. It was extremely difficult to try and have Kiana understand that animals have a different role in Ethiopian society than they do in the U.S.

We tried to sleep that night without much luck. I swear it sounded like a million dogs were barking outside our window all night. I so wish I had had earplugs with me. We took cold showers (no hot water or water pressure) and were up and leaving by 5:30am. Of course Fred had already been up talking to the military personal posted outside the hotel long before we left. Want to guess what the topic was? Gotta love the work boots.

We sped back to Addis at the same neck breaking speed we had travelled to Awassa. However being a Monday morning many more people were out pre paring for work. The car honked every 50 yards or so at donkeys pulling incredibly large loads. There was even a trucks flat bed with wheels, loaded to the brim and being hauled by two donkeys. As we passed through one little town a dog ran out into the road and was hit by our vehicle, going very fast. Kiana broke down crying and the ride was somber for a while. The driver did apologize.

We stopped at the same motel for more coffee and some breakfast. Excellent machiattos and so-so french toast. However the home made mango orange marmalade was amazing. Fred had so much of it that an hour later we had to pull over as he got sick on the side of the road.

Next we stopped at a fish market and vegetable stand. Getting out of the car the stench was over powering and I had to be careful not to step on any fish heads or guts. Several turtle carcasses were strewn about. We walked out to a beautiful (albeit dirty) lake and a little boy ran after the stork like birds to make them fly up into the sky. He seemed to think it was funny that all us tourists took pictures of the birds ascending and descending. I wonder if he thought we might have something better to do. He let me take his picture with Kiana because he was just too cute and I gave him a birr.

There were more people in the fields working during our drive back to Addis. We watched the oxen pull through the mud with their wooden yolks and farmer standing behind. Occasionally groups of older boys or girls could be seen bending over in the fields and little, little kids patiently waiting for them to finish. We saw many woman, with heavy, heavy loads. Our driver pointed out a huge flower nursery that employs hundreds of local people. You could smell the change in the air as we entered the city and drove towards the guest house. Trucks and buses were lined up alongside the road waiting for fuel. Moola said many people waited in their vehicles overnight to have a spot online when the fuel trucks arrived. The price and quality of fuel in Ethiopia is outrageously terrible.

I was so happy to arrive at the guest house. When we pulled in I looked towards the first infant room (there are four) and a nanny was standing with Misikir in her arms.

We got out, she started to hand him to me and I gestured towards Kiana. She held his sleepy body against her chest and I started to cry. It was so emotional. I held him, Fred held him- we all just passed him around, poor thing. But he was so sweet and curious about us, his big eyes exploring our faces and his pudgy hands grabbing for my glasses.

After lunch we had to rush all the families and their new children to the embassy appointment. We stalled out a few times but made it through the city to the embassy. Fred teased our driver Mulat that he had better get some fuel before the bus died on us. It was mid day and very hot. Kai Misikir was great through out the whole thing, sleeping mostly. I was concerned because he had gone so easily with us for this road trip, and didn't even know who we were. As we climbed the stairs to the final packed room, two people immediately offered me a seat (as I was holding the baby). It was very considerate.

After about two hours we made our way out of the building back towards the bus. There were hugs all around to the families as the embassy appointment had been the last step, the final approval of the adoption. We were legally all new parents.

As we were leaving another large group came in that was apparently with a different agency. Suddenly I could see what some Ethiopians see: many, many white people leaving the country with Ethiopian children. Seeing this group helped me understand, just a little bit, what the emotions of some Ethiopian citizens might be.

On our ride back to the guest house, Mulat and Betty had to stop to pick up all the photos of the children for their visas. We pulled up in front of an official looking building, they jumped out, closed the door, and we waited. It didn't take long for our white mini bus, filled with mostly white people holding black children, to attract attention. I happened to be sitting on the side by the main road. Some people passed by and smiled and cooed to Misikir as he stared out the window. Other people held out their hand, and some children started knocking on the windows signing for eat, food. It was the little girls that bothered me the most. I'm not sure why. Maybe they reminded me too much of Kiana. Two girls in particular that sat by the side of the road until we finally drove away. They couldn't have been more than five or six. When we were waiting they made faces at Kai and got him to smile, then they would ask for food or money again. Every time Kai smiled they would giggle together amongst themselves. I watched them give me the universal finger as we drove away without giving them anything at all. I still wish I had.

That night the group got a late start to join Dr. Tsegaye, the Ethiopian director, at a celebratory traditional Ethiopian restaurant. Everyone climbed into the bus and headed out, very hungry. It was about 8pm when we stalled in the middle of the road on a hill. After revving unsuccessfully a few times, Mulat jumped out of the van, ran around the back, grabbed the oil can and took off running. We all sat there, in the middle of the street at night, while people honked their horns and drove around us. After about 35 minutes Mulat shows up, puts some gas in the mini bus, jumps back in the drivers seat, and without a word drives us all to the restaurant. It was almost nine at night by the time we were sitting and being served. It was an amazing restaurant with singing and dancing performed up front, and many people eating and drinking. It was warm in the restaurant and the smell of incense hung in the air. I don't drink but was definitely feeling woozy. When the food arrived and there was only injera to scoop with, no bread for Kiana and myself, I sort of broke down. It had been a long day and I was beyond sleep deprived and jet lagged and over saturated emotionally (is it terrible I don't like injera?). I started crying and had to step outside and collect myself. Fred, Lenea and Kiana came out, soon after joined by Mulat and Israel (Dr. Tsagays son). They were so, so nice and kind to me and after I had finally gotten myself together and came back in, Mulat had managed to find me some bread for the vegetarian portions of the food. I am so grateful to them for being so understanding. Thankfully I didn't miss Kiana joining in with some of the traditional dancing. On the way home Kiana quizzed Fred, Lenea and Aldous on the amount of alcohol they had consumed and whether or not they might be drunk. By the way Aldous was dancing with the band I don't blame her for asking! lol. What a night!





Tuesday we spent time hanging out with Kai Misikir and visiting all four baby rooms. I loved watching my son interact with the nannies, two of whom he was very bonded to. Their affection and sincerity towards the children was remarkable. They do so much for these children by loving them. It teaches them to trust and bond and grow. I took pictures of babies and toddlers who's parents were waiting so patiently to come and pick them up. It warmed my heart to see them playing and knowing they all had parents waiting for them.

That afternoon we were escorted by the very cool guard Isaac to the bigger kids orphanage house. I had brought toothpaste, toothbrushes, jump ropes, jelly bracelets, stickers and balls to hand out. Unfortunately because it was raining (again) we couldn't hand out the jump ropes or balls but we did manage to share the bracelets and stickers. Kiana went around and handed each child a bracelet. Fred got all choked up and had to step outside, I wish I had video of that moment, it was amazing. The children then all sat down at the tables and were served plain pancakes and hot tea. It was so, so cute to see all these little children blowing on their individual cups of tea. I started crying thinking about the children that were still waiting to be matched with a forever family. Currently there were 47 children, 17 of whom were waiting to go home. I couldn't help but wonder what happens to the children that never get matched?

We took some photos and toured the sleeping quarters and tiny classroom. We saw the kitchen and got a quick lesson in the art of making injera. Fred talked to the cooks about their pans (although I'm not convinced they knew what he was talking about). I wish I could understand what the woman chatted about as we walked around. I was very impressed with the social worker there and the "head sister". They were so loving towards the children. When we left Fred said he would love to adopt an older boy next time, the hardest age/gender to place.

That night Kiana got very sick; vomiting and diarrhea. Wednesday Fred and I were very tired and many people in the guest house were sick. Kiana stayed in bed that day, Lenea and I joined a group going to the street market and in the afternoon we went to a museum and the weavers compound. Now that was fantastic and I wish I could have spent much more time admiring all their amazing work. Imagine a huge warehouse type room just filled with looms and weavers of all kinds. They were very friendly and generous showing us their work. I bought quite a few scarves and Fred got a traditional shirt. I wish I had bought lots more.

Thursday Kiana felt better and joined us as we went to the Dutch embassy to get a transit visa for Kai as the KLM airline and Dutch Embassy on the phone had instructed us to do. Needless to say after we had gotten through all the check points and driven half way across town the woman on the inside of the Dutch Embassy assured us we would not need a transit visa for the baby. Ummm, OK.

On the way back to the guest house we stopped at the large grocery store. Fred had asked Yonas where he could buy a new pan and knife for the cook, Sinadu. Fred and Yonas and the store keeper discussed the different pans and knives for sale. The only thing Fred wasnt able to buy was a new spatula for her, they would only sell it as a set. Sinadu was psyched when Fred gave her the things we had brought back from the store.

That afternoon we visited a great bookstore and stopped to visit The Marcado. I loved this outing! We were able to walk, escorted, through the tented aisles of herbs and spices, butter and vegetables. Little children ran up to Fred pointing at the tattoo of a lion on his forearm and yelling Simba, Simba! Mulat told the kids he was a famous wrestler from America. It was like walking into another world...I only wish I could have blended in to really have the full experience. A little child ran up to Lenea and proclaimed she was a rich Ethiopian woman- and then ran away. One woman I photographed was sitting in the middle of an isle surrounded by vegetables. She wasn't very happy about me photographing her until Fred gave her ten birr. Then she smiled for a better shot.

The drive out of The Marcado was insane with bumper to bumper traffic. I got lots of pictures of this part of the city as it was so interesting. They have a whole section of The Marcado dedicated to "recycled" items of every sort. Copper wire, vegetable oil containers, tires, metal etc. The meat shops made me ever more inclined to be entirely vegetarian. People were everywhere. Children were everywhere.

Friday all the families but one were due to leave after the coffee ceremony. We were leaving the next day so we took the morning to visit the Orphanage AHOPE which I read so much about. This was something I really wanted to do. When we got there all the older children were in class, but we had a wonderful time playing with the younger kids. Some of the children looked completely healthy, while other children were quite sick. We played for a while, snapped pictures, handed out bracelets and spoke with a woman volunteering from England. She told us about the orphanages in Ethiopia for children with disabilities or mental retardation. She spoke alot about the need for more education all around. The experience was so moving for all of us, so special. I would absolutely consider the adoption of a child with HIV.

In the afternoon, the children from the big kids house arrived to dance for us and lead a meal time blessing. Dr. Tsagaye got up and spoke (although I couldn't hear him from my seat) as well as the head "Sister" Eskala. Katie represented the group of parents by thanking all the staff in both Amharic and English. Totally impressive. Sister Eskala held onto Misikir most of the ceremony and then he was passed around the nannies and big kids. He was so patient about it all, just watching. It was beautiful to watch the children dancing and singing.

Smelling the super strong coffee (they did not have milk or cream) was starting to make me nauseous and by the time the ceremony ended I was up in our room getting sick. I was sick until the next morning and missed saying good bye to all the other families :(

Saturday morning I sent Fred on a mission to go to the big kids house and get any pictures of children that we had missed for their waiting parents. He walked up there, took one photo of each child, and returned triumphant. I couldn't believe he had only taken one photo! But I was too sick to complain.

By mid afternoon I was feeling a bit better and Lenea was packing up all the bags. I had spent some final moments on the roof of the guest house, looking out over the city. The mist was still covering the mountains in the distance. It was beautiful, but in a sorrowful way. The inequity of it all is just impossible for me to understand. Children- human beings- deserve so much more.

When we were all packed up and paid I got ready to get Misikir from infant room one. I gathered a yellow, one piece outfit that looked comfy to sleep in. I pre pared the diaper bag with plenty of ready made formula and diapers. Why was my heart so heavy?

I took my shoes off outside the door as usual and went inside. Misikir's favorite nanny was holding him on the floor next to the window. As I sat down next to her I could see she was crying and I hugged both her and the baby. She repeated the same phrases over and over to him rocking him in her arms and then as we changed him together into his going home outfit. I tried to explain to her how grateful I was that she loved him, that she cared so deeply. We cried so much together because I knew what she was feeling. Even though in her heart she knew that he would leave one day, there is no way to prepare for that kind of heart ache. When I finally walked out to the van I asked Mulat if he would translate for me. We went back into the room and I spoke from the deepest place in my heart of my gratitude to her and the goodness of her work. She thanked me for providing a good home for Misikir as she loved him very much. She was glad that he was going to such a loving family with a loving sister. It makes me cry just thinking about it again. Very emotional- soul changing.

We quietly drove through the military check points and to the airport. Even though it was a joyous occasion to be returning home, there was a sadness about it too. It took a long time to get through the airport, all the different stops before you reach the actual plane. I still felt sick and very tired as I scrunched myself against the side of the plane. Kiana cuddled up beside me and Fred held Misikir on his lap (no bulkhead seats available). It was a rocky flight to Amsterdam, or maybe I was jsut particularly miserable. I was wearing one of Fred's shirts as I seriously underpacked for both myself and Kiana.

When we arrived in Amsterdam Fred struck up a conversation with some people who turned out to be evangelicals and wanted to bestow prayers on Kai. I went with Kiana and Lenea to find something to eat. At 6:30am we were still waiting for the rude bistro-ess lady to open her stand. We bought three coffees, four pastries and a bottle of water. Euros or dollars? she asked. I only have dollars, I replied. OK, $32.00 Yikes! And we paid it, even though we shouldnt have. It definatly wasnt worth it and apparently the dollars not worth much either.

I thought the next flight would never end. Thankfully we breezed through customs and immigration again. Even our sons paperwork went well. When we came out to the parking area my mother, father, aunt, brother and his girlfriend were all there to greet us! It was so nice. My mother was crying so I handed Kai off to her. I still cant get over what a patient baby he was during that whole trip. I took a shower as soon as I got to my mothers, I had missed water pressure so much.

We had lunch and decided to drive home. There is just something about getting back to your own bed, your own comforts of home. Plus Kiana desperately missed the dogs, especially Bella. I dont think Kai had any idea why he was strapped into a car seat but he slept most all the way. I was so tired Fred had to drive- I just couldnt wake up.