Tuesday afternoon, when we said good-bye to Ferni, we saw that the attachment process would apparently be easier than we had imagined. the orphanage had already talked to him about us and he had been asking everyday if that was the day he would meet us...
We decided to use Masha as our interpreter and explain in detail and with honesty the whole process to him. However, before that, we needed to complete a series of papers, legal certifications, notarizations and other bureocratic stuff. We started out that Wednesday at the Mariupol Notary. It was remarkably small but well furnished. At the counter there were two girls who might as well could have been the owners because they did everything. They typed, wrote the documents, printed them in official paper, put on the stamps and seals, charged the customers... In the middle of the process a character of the movie The Untouchables appeared (whom we assumed to be the notary). He was the "capo" of the Russian mob. Black suit and black shirt, silver tie, pointy shoes, etc. I was afraid that he would even have a golden tooth, but thank God this wasn't the case. The diligence was very long and full of signatures and trips to and from the office, and like this we spent almost all morning. After 11:30am it was finally over and we rushed to the orphanage because the morning visit ended at 12m. We had to stop on the way to buy some "pichinias" and soc (juice). We took this opportunity to get some Pepsi and Lipton Ice Tea as well, since these products cannot be found anywhere in this country!
We arrived to see Ferni a little before 12m and they gave us only 10 minutes because he had to take a nap since he had just had lunch. Normally at Solnichko visits take place in a small place with very cold little tables at the entrance to the house. We had seen various Spanish couples trying to bond with their kids in this area, but this is just useless to us "sudacas" so we just kept on walking to look for Ferni at his "grupa's" playing room next to their little dining room. The little crazy one left everything as soon as they told him we were there and ran to us with his machina in one hand and his motorcicle in the other one. He jumped directly to my neck and loudly yelled: PAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! There we went again, directly to the floor... as it was supposed to be. Ferni asked inquisitively: "Why are so late??? Did you go for my brothers?"
Gulp!
Masha offered to translate and as we were saying before, we explained the process in detail to him even showing him the big fat dossier so that we would be very clear about everything. We seemed satisfied. It's unbeleivable how mature and conscious he is about the whole situation at his 5 years of age and everthing he has been through. However, deep inside he is just a sweet and naive little boy. He thought for a few seconds and then said: "ok, but when we go home I get to take my machina and my motorcicle!"
Deal! (the toys were already stuck to his hands anyway...)
Masha left us shortly after to go on with the paperwork. The caretakers had to tell us that we could only stay for 10 minutes. The thing is how to explain these messy "sudacas" that 10 minutes at the tables near the entrance has nothing to do with 3 hours on the floor of the groupa's playing area??? Well, obviously between the language barrier and the fact that we would probably still not do as we were told, they decided to leave us alone. We ate pichinias, drank soc, played with the cars and gave a very important step towards his future language: we started to learn to count to empezamos a aprender a contar hasta "trei" (tres). The best way was with a car that had a little starter, he had to say "Uno, dos y tres" before letting him go. At the beginning he only said dos y trei but towards the end it was a clear Uno, dos y Trei. Perfect! (Trei sounds perfect doesn't it ????) Like this we spent "trei" very happy hours.
In the end we were all very thirsty (Marielle and I were also hungry, but that's another story) so taking advantage of the fact that we were alone, we comitted a little sin. We opened my backpack and got a small bottle of Pepsi out. It was crazy!
The soc was history... Bring on the Pepsi!!! We dared to give him only a few sips because, believe it or not, at his five years of age, on January 21st 2009, my son tried a Pepsi. We did not count on the immediate effect a few sips would have on him. I don't know what they put to Pepsi here in Ukraine, but my poor son started running and jumping and hopping as if he had been possessed by something, and shouted out of control... The caretakers shushed us because the grupa was taking their nap but there was no way to stop his laughter and hopping and his fights with imaginary monsters. What was doomed to happen finally happened. A caretaker took him and explained to us with sign language that Ferni had to take his nap too. Jajajajaja... little did she know that he he had some Pepsi inside him...
We had to say good-bye but promised to come back in the afternoon at least for a little while. We both sat at the tables near the entrance and shortly after Masha arrived and she was very surprised that we had been allowed to stay with him for so long. Those were the longest and most wonderful 10 minutes of our lives.
We went to lunch while we prayed that the authorization to adopt our boy would be signed by Arcadi's boss. There was a chance that it would happen, but this usually took a day longer...
Thank God in the middle of salad Arcadi's call came in. The paper was signed!!
Masha and Andrei left to get the document and we stayed at the hotel waiting for them. Time was only enough for a VERY short visit to Ferni to say good-bye before leaving that night for Kramatorsk again.
We tiptoed inside and he apparently heard us or someone told him we were there, and he ran to meet us with his two machinas, the motorcicle and the starter in his hands, he was juggling. Behind him, the whole grupa came out running with scared little faces because they probably thought it was an earthquake or a fire alarm... 10 children yelling and laughing while Ferni hugged me saying "Papa Kiril" (his ukrainian name) like introducing me into the grupa society... Well done, son!! We may be "sudacas" but we are well manered.
The caretakers told us through masha that he had not slept a single minute that afternoon. He had been telling everyone about what we had done and then he had been telling the grupa about his parents. The best part was when Ferni heard they were telling us this and cut in to say: "and I don't plan to eat either nor sleep tonight..." We don't know what happened after all but knowing him, he must have been awake and talking for the last 48 hours... I went in to say good-bye and explain that we would be back on Saturday: "Paka Paka, Kiril. Da Subota". I took this opportunity to look inside the little grupa dining room where all the plates were already served. I said "Paka, Paka" and Ferni proudly yelled "Papa Kiril", his chest stickin out, probably feeling really special for the first time in his life...
I must confess that I tried not to look too much at the grupa, but it was impossible. You can't imagine the beautiful group of angels it is. Little boys and girls with the sweetest looks and so much to give... I would have given anything to be able to help them, to promise them that their own Papa y Mama would come soon to take them home!
One of the most difficult things about coming to Ucraine in this time of the year is that the birthdays of four of our now five children are within less than a month: January 23rd (Nico), January 24th (Alejandra or "Ale"), February 10th (Santiago) and February 15th (Micaela). We would have liked to celebrate them the seven of us together, but the way things have turned out, we are with two of them in Ukraine while the two birthday girls are in Guatemala with their "Babushka" Monica.
