And baby makes three
Mar 31 '00 (Updated Oct 19 '00)
If you’re thinking about adopting a child, get ready to learn a lot. If you’re already a parent, you know what a big job that is. Building your family through adoption means that you have learn all about the adoption process. Read everything you can find about adoption, talk to parents who have adopted and to adults who were adopted. Learn, learn, learn. Get a subscription to Adoptive Families and read it cover to cover every issue. Read every book on the subject that you can find (try to stick to recent ones). Do you want to adopt an infant or an older child? Why? Are you planning on adopting in the U.S. or internationally? Why? Research dozens of options. It may not seem polite or proper to say so, but adoption is indeed an example of a supply/demand situation. It is possible to do privately arranged adoptions with the help of a lawyer but I strongly recommend that you work with an adoption agency, preferably a large one with a long track record (my wife and I worked with Children’s Home Society of Minnesota).
Be prepared to be asked stupid questions. How much did the baby cost? Where’s his real dad? Why didn’t you have a child of your own? Learn about correct adoption terminology. You’ll be correcting people’s misconceptions for years to come.
If you decide to pursue an international adoption, be aware that there are virtually no internationally recognized standard procedures. Each country has its own set of laws. Those laws change frequently and there is no way to “bend” those rules. We had originally considered a Korean adoption but one of their many requirements is that the couple adopting be not more than five years apart in age. I’m five and a half years older than my wife, we were disqualified. In China, only girls are available for adoption. Some countries will only approve adoptions by a married man and woman, others are more flexible. I’ve heard horror stories about the levels of corruption and fraud in some countries’ adoption proceedings. Do your homework.
I can only share with you my own experiences with one agency and one country. Your experience might be quite different from mine.
I kept a journal while in Colombia and published a lightly edited version of it in my zine Between the Lines Issue 10 (A Colombian Odyssey) in September 1993. It’s been at my personal web site in html format since ’95. The * symbol of this text was a dingbat in the print version:
6/26/93: The beginning of our trip to Bogotá to adopt our first child. Minneapolis to Miami flight uneventful. Five hour layover in Miami which seems much more like a Latin country than a part of Los Estados Unidos. While waiting for the flight to Bogotá, met several Colombian high school students returning after ten months with US families. Nice kids. Avianca flight full of Colombians, not sure but we may have been the only norteamericanos on board. Sat next to a very nice Colombian man who gave us much useful advice and later helped us through customs. Picked up at the airport by the son of our Minnesota Children’s Home Society representative’s assistant. He had no problem picking us out of the crowd. He drove us to our hotel (Residencias Paris) in the Chicó district of north Bogotá. We’re not in Kansas anymore.
6/27/93: One day to get acclimated in more ways than one. We felt somewhat prepared but luckily there’s a woman from Wisconsin who’s been here a few weeks and is showing us the ropes. Rita speaks some Spanish having spent 3 1/2 months in Guatemala adopting her first son in 1982. She’s down here adopting two girls, 7 and 8, who have been severely abused by their birth mother. * The 7,800 foot elevation takes its toll quickly — a nasty headache and lightheadedness. Walking six blocks to the store is a major effort.
6/28: The Big Day. Our representative Isabel Romero drives us to the Ayudame orphanage where we wait for a short period of time that seems endless. We sign lots of papers. Eventually, they bring in Nathaniel Miguel who’s as cute as a bug’s ear. How cute is a bug’s ear? Tears flow. Nathaniel is very quiet, the people at the orphanage call him calm. All of the babies at the orphanage get bronchitis or bronchial pneumonia which is not too surprising when we notice that nearly everyone on the staff smokes while standing in front of fumar prohibidar signs. We take Miguel back to the hotel where he is amazingly quiet for a few hours. When he decides to get vocal he makes up for lost time. Mary and I quickly find that we’re not yet experts with formula and diapers.
6/29/93: Our first meeting with Carlos Franco, the best taxi driver on the planet. The man is worth his weight in gold. We drive to ICBF, the government children’s welfare agency, where we’re asked questions about our intentions. Our lawyer has two competent-looking bodyguards with large bulges in their jackets. She may someday be First Lady — her husband is the former director of the Colombian version of the FBI and has his eyes on the Presidential Palace. * As we drive around it quickly becomes obvious that the middle class is very small. Grinding poverty and affluence exist side by side. Street vendors eking out survival wages and kids sitting on the corner sniffing glue are not seen by the occupants of the Mercedes with tinted glass that drives by. M-14s and submachine guns are common; there are police and soldiers everywhere. We have been warned not to speak to them — even a “buenas dias” makes them suspicious that you are trying to distract them. * After driving us around for three hours Carlos only charges us 7,500 pesos. At the current exchange rate of 776 to the dollar, I don’t see how he can do it. The thousand peso tip I gave was way too small for all his work. I should give him more from now on. * The food included in the cost of our room is served family-style and is muy delisioso. Several other families are here adopting — from Wisconsin and France as of today, a Norwegian couple left for the airport yesterday.
6/30 (Night of the Long Knives): Took a trip to go shopping today, went to Exito, the Bogotá equivalent of Wal-Mart. Wal-Marts don’t have armed guards at the gates who use long-armed mirrors to inspect the undersides of cars for explosives.
1 July: Went to Ayudame to get written permission to take a four day trip to La Rochela, a resort in La Vega about 70 kilometers northwest of Bogotá. One of the reasons to go into the country is to help Nathaniel Miguel’s lungs clear up for a few days, away from the pollution of Bogotá. We treated him today for scabies, caused by mites, rare in the States but common in the Third World. I walked about nine blocks to a one hour photo shop and dropped off film to be developed using my as of yet minimal Spanish. On the way back I realized that I was not carrying my passport or any other identification. Not a smart move. * Walking across a street is quite risky. Most of the drivers are certifiably insane and in Colombia pedestrians do not have the right of way. If you get hit it’s legally your fault so drivers rarely bother to look for pedestrians let alone slow down for them. Even crossing at an intersection with a green light is a roll of the dice unless you are very careful.
2 July: Our trip to La Rochela started off with a drive through Bogotá and its outskirts during a torrential downpour. It turns out that most of Bogotá doesn’t have storm sewers — during every heavy rain the streets turn into not so shallow lakes. We drove past a university that looked more like a medium security prison than a playground for intellectuals. After crossing the Sabanna de Bogotá which is cattle country we entered another chain of mountains which have stunning scenery and people living in abject poverty. After about two hours we arrived at La Rochela which is an island of affluence in a sea of poverty. Comfortable cabins surrounded by orange, banana and coconut trees with a stream running through and peacocks roaming the grounds which are surrounded by a formidable fence.
3 July 93: While lounging on the verandah I heard what appeared to me to be repeated gunfire coming from the hills. None of the Colombians near me even raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was just firecrackers.
4 July 93: In the morning at least a dozen families went south along the dirt road just outside the fence carrying loads of bananas on horses and donkeys into market. * Wish I’d brought along a small pair of binoculars — all the birds are new to me and there are constellations that can’t be seen from the United States.
5 July 93: Took a trip into the town of La Vega today to go shopping. Today being a holiday in Colombia (Feast of Saint Peter and Saint Paul) it was market day again (yesterday was Sunday) and the town was full of people selling the local produce. There were many cafés and restaurants, knickknack stores and even a well-stocked electronics shop, something I wouldn’t have expected to see in a small town in rural Colombia. One of the stores I went to had both regular brown chicken eggs and much smaller multicolored eggs which I couldn’t identify. Rita and her kids left for Bogotá today, they go to court tomorrow to sign the final papers.
6 July 93: Returned to Bogotá. Along the way saw a shrine by the side of the road — a Virgin Mary surrounded by forty or fifty headlights left by the faithful. It would have been a great picture, but not worth the risk that Carlos might think that I was belittling his religion. About twenty kilometers outside of Bogotá saw a coal mine which had the mine entrance less than five feet from the edge of the road. It looked like a mom and pop operation; the kid who was crawling into the shaft as we drove by couldn’t have been more than twelve. Also went past acres and acres of greenhouses where flowers are grown for export.
7/7/93: When I see a maid I often think of Nathaniel Miguel’s birth mother. All that we know about her is that she’s a 19 year old maid with a fourth grade education. When she found out that she was pregnant she told her boyfriend, a day laborer. He then informed her that he was married and had two children. She decided to make an adoption plan. When the child was born, she named him Miguel Angel Rodriguez Muñoz and the next day signed papers to make him legally adoptable. Under Colombian law it’s a crime for us to make any attempt to contact her. When Nathaniel turns eighteen it’s legal for him to try. At that time he can also become a dual citizen.
8 July 93: There was a small item in the paper about guerrillas having killed two soldiers in the northeastern part of the country. One of the soldiers was named Lord Byron Rodriguez Granados.
9 July 93: Took a tour of a coffee plantation in Fusagasuá, 60 kilometers southwest of Bogotá. Interesting to see firsthand the stages of production of something so central to my life. * On the way back from the plantation saw a large sign pointing up a side road to a Hare Krishna temple. * In the two weeks we’ve been here I’ve seen numerous dogs but not a single cat.
10 July 93: Miguel had a fever during the night and again during the day. It’s frustrating being a first time parent with a sick baby thousands of miles from your family doctor. If his temperature doesn’t drop by Monday we’ll have a doctor here see him. Colombian doctors tend to over-medicate by US standards, relying heavily on antibiotics.
11 July 93: Nathaniel was better around noon but had a seizure at 2. The doctor at Ayudame prescribed Cataflan and we’re to see her at noon tomorrow.
12 July 93: Miguel’s temperature was high during the night. The doctor at Ayudame checked him at noon and said his lungs were clear and to continue with the medication. He got much worse in the afternoon, having another seizure. Day from hell. At four we took him to the Clinica del Country hospital. Drove by taxi and the driver was told to get there as soon as possible. Trip was like something out of a Fellini film — a half-crazed driver going top speed through rush hour traffic with blaring salsa music on the radio. All that was missing was a dwarf wearing a funny hat dancing on the hood. Nate had a third seizure in the taxi. At least two very near collisions on my side of the car, possibly others that I didn’t see. Excellent doctors and nurses at the emergency room. They suspected bronchial pneumonia and ordered X rays. Stood in X ray room with him while examination took place, no lead shielding provided for the parents. Zap! After several hours of waiting they confirmed bronchial pneumonia and said that he should be admitted. Five minutes later they said that they didn’t have any rooms available. Off to the second hospital, Fundacion Santa Fe de Bogotá. While Mary was in the emergency room with Miguel I was up front trying to get approval for my credit card over the ever chancy Colombian phone system. From the emergency room came a blood curdling scream that cut through ten foot thick titanium steel walls. Luckily, rather than being Nathaniel it was a little girl having blood drawn. Nathaniel Miguel was admitted and we went back to the hotel to get our first decent night’s sleep in four days.
13 July 93: Test results show that in addition to bronchial pneumonia he has a kidney infection. We spent most of the day at the hospital pushing our limited Spanish as far as we could. A few of the staff spoke English. If we ever adopt in Colombia again I’ll be sure to get as close to fluency in Spanish as I can. We took a break and went across the street to Hacienda Santa Barbara, a shopping mall that’s more upscale than most in the United States. If you have money, life can be very comfortable in Bogotá. * There’s a new family here, from Denmark. During dinner the woman spoke Danish to her husband, Spanish to her children, English to us and French to the couple from Brittany.
Bastille Day: Nathaniel had a test in the nuclear medicine department that required total immobility so he was sedated. Gorked for the rest of the day. We met a woman who we’d seen at the first hospital on the 12th. Coincidentally, her daughter was being tested at the same nuclear medicine department. Had a lengthy conversation with a neurologist who will be examining Miguel tomorrow after the sedative has totally worn off. We may have to schedule an MRI. Today’s exchange rate was 782.
15 de Julio: The neurologist was pleased with the results of his exam. We are however getting conflicting information from the other doctors. It seems that the pneumonia is no longer cause for concern — the main problem is Miguel’s left kidney. * Went shopping today at the Hacienda but left by a different exit than before. Right across the street from this exclusive mall, in the heart of a city of six million, cattle were grazing.
16.7.93: Nathaniel Miguel was released from the hospital today amid much wailing and gnashing of gums. The total cost of his four day stay including a gammography at the nuclear medicine department and an ultrasound was 592,629 pesos, about US$750. He’ll have a heparin lock for the next ten days. Because Mary is a registered nurse we have an intravenous drip set up in our hotel room and enough syringes to keep New York’s junkies happy.
17.7.93: I had noticed before that about two blocks from here there’s a residential street with roadblocks of police with machine-guns and bulletproof vests at either end. Found out today that the chief of the national police lives on that block.
18.7.93: Taking pictures of police or military installations might get you arrested or even shot. I’ve wanted to take a picture of an unusual security measure I’ve seen atop several walls — shards of glass embedded in cement. Since this is an upper-class neighborhood, there are security guards everywhere. It’s probably not strictly illegal to take a picture of a private residence but do I want to take a picture of a security wall when there’s an armed guard a half block from me?
19 de Julio 1993: Miguel’s heparin lock started to leak and we returned to the hospital. Fairly rapid skilled service for 4,088 pesos or about $5.50. Who needs Hillary Rodham Clinton’s task force? Let Colombians run our health industry.
20 de Julio: Today is Colombia’s Independence Day. There was a big parade about thirty blocks west of here. Didn’t go but did watch part of it on television. * I read El Tiempo, one of the two main newspapers here, every day. I know just enough Spanish to get the gist of an article, but not enough to understand the subtleties. The Colombian foreign minister spent the day on San Andres island in the Caribbean where she made a speech in which she said that Colombia’s sovereignty over San Andres was not negotiable. Nicaragua has recently restated its claims to the island and has petitioned the World Court in The Hague to hear the case. I would have thought that Nicaragua would have given up on the World Court by now and tried “other options”. During the Reagan years when America was mining the harbors in Nicaragua, the Managua government took the case to the World Court and won. The US simply ignored the decision. The World Court may very well be a good idea, but it has no enforcement powers.
21 de Julio: Busy day. Two trips to the hospital, the first to get supplies at the hospital pharmacy and a futile attempt to get Miguel’s medical records. The second trip was to a nephrologist for a follow-up exam. We hope to be able to switch from intravenous to oral antibiotics in a few days. * There’s a radio station here that I’ll miss when we leave. They play Colombian pop music during the day and Argentine tango music at night.
22 de Julio: Bought a bottle of Peruvian vin ordinaire today. Had some Colombian wine a week ago. Before coming here, I thought that Argentina and Chile were the only wine producing countries in Latin America. In retrospect, it’s not too surprising that countries as large as Colombia and Peru with terrain ranging from rain forest to the high Andes would have some land suitable for viniculture. * Isabel leaves for the US tomorrow and her assistant Helena will take over for her here. Isabel has been a great help to us and has often gone above and beyond the call of duty. She’s also a lot of fun and will be missed.
23 de Julio: We went to the Museo del Oro today. They’ve got one of the best collections of pre-Colombian gold in the world, much of it intricate designs from the Muisca and Tolima cultures. The 45 minute ride there through the eastern part of the city along the edge of the Andean Cordillera Oriental was 2130 pesos on the meter, about $2.80. This was our first trip to downtown Bogotá. Now that Miguel is doing better we hope to do more touristy things before heading back to Los Estados Unidos.
24 de Julio: For my light reading while here I’d brought a copy of War and Peace. Even being a first time parent with a sick child I’ve somehow managed to find the time to read over six hundred pages so far. It’s kind of strange reading about the lives of aristocratic Russians when everyone around me is speaking Spanish. If I ever go to Russia, I’ll have to bring a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude or Don Quixote.
25 de Julio: Took the funicular to the top of Monserrate today, about 600 meters above the city’s center. Today was one of the relatively few clear days in Bogotá so we had a fine view. This being Sunday, it was crowded with pilgrims to the church at the summit. * Downtown Bogotá has its seedy sections, street people, beggars etcetera like any big city but is not as dirty as New York or Chicago.
26 de Julio: Took a trip today to the Instituto Geográfico to buy some maps. I thought that it would be pretty straightforward — browse through topographical, geological and thematic maps, select a few and pay the cashier. I wonder if Franz Kafka spent any time in Colombia as a young man. One of the many armed guards directed me to a window where only two maps of Bogotá and its environs were on display. I asked in broken Spanish where I could go to see some maps and was answered with a curt no. I thought fine, I’ll just take copies of those two, but no, you just get a receipt and stand in a second line to pay and get your receipt stamped, a third line to exchange your receipt for a computer printout and back to the first line to pick up your maps. A quick look at some of the other faces showed that it wasn’t just this gringo who was frustrated. One of the other line junkies told me that there’s no way to browse, you have to look in their one catalogue (no copies available for purchase) for what you want and order it by number. The catalogue was scribbled in, erased, stamped, folded and mutilated. The National University is right next door. I pity the geography majors. * On top of everything else, Nate’s come down with chicken pox. * I’m not sure what’s keeping me going but I’m still enjoying my time in Colombia. * Today’s exchange rate was 795 1/2.
27 de Julio: Three American couples have checked into the hotel in the last two days. It’s very strange to hear so much English. * Cars are very expensive in Colombia; compacts are more than $20,000 due to steep taxes. Because of the combination of high taxes (which encourages repairs) and a lack of road salt, cars last forever. It’s not uncommon to see Packards and DeSotos. There are also makes of cars here virtually unknown in the States. The Renault 4 series is popular here. It’s a tiny car that is kept out of the US because of a law setting a minimum limit on auto weight, nominally for safety reasons but actually because none of the big three American auto companies produce cars which are that small. I’ve also seen Russian Ladas and Romanian Dacias.
28 de Julio: Nate’s chicken pox are starting to scab over, hopefully he has passed the worst. Mary and I aren’t getting much sleep.
29 de Julio: It turns out that of all the imports into South America, Colombia accounts for 60% of the total. Lots of drug money pours into the construction that seems to go on everywhere. The government pays lip service to combating drugs and makes some arrests, but they know which side their bread is buttered on. A Third World country is understandably willing to look the other way if the standard of living and infrastructure can be improved.
30 de Julio: Miguel had a follow-up test for his kidneys today; we’ll get the results early next week. * We had a wine tasting party with Pat, Liz, Nathan and April this afternoon. The staff here had good laughs at the expense of a bunch of mildly inebriated norteamericanos.
31 de Julio: I’m a bit surprised that Colombians treat Americans so well. Whenever I’m in a bank exchanging travelers checks for pesos, I see Colombians having their bags searched. Bank guards never search my bags. It’s obvious to all concerned that this six foot four caucasian is from somewhere else. If I were a Colombian, I’d feel insulted that foreigners receive deferential treatment.
1 de Agosto: Saw a very small car today, not much bigger than a large motorcycle. It was a Zastava. * The Syrian ambassador’s house is just a few blocks from our hotel. It looks like it could withstand repeated bombardment.
2 de Agosto: Nate is much improved; we were able to take him shopping with us today. Having a baby in quarantine gives the parents a serious case of cabin fever. * Bought a great atlas of Colombia today that I’ll be poring over for years. * Today’s exchange rate was 798.
3 de Agosto: Colombia is clearly a mid-income Third World country — it’s not a basket case like Haiti or Albania but it also hasn’t had the economic “take off” like the mini-dragons of Asia. I wouldn’t be surprised if it makes a great leap in the next ten or fifteen years. Economic development is everywhere, in the form of new buildings, an expanding electrical grid, schools growing like mushrooms and plenty of money sloshing around. The drug money is part of it but there’s also been an oil boom going on here for the last couple of years. Another advantage that Colombia has over many Third World countries is that it isn’t cursed with primary city disease. Many Third World countries have one huge city (five or ten times as large as the next biggest city) that draws in the vast majority of rural migrants and much of the available capital. Colombia does have the huge Santafé de Bogotá but it also has thriving second-tier cities like Medellin, Cali and Baranquilla. This country is going places. * The American State Department has had Colombia essentially blacklisted for several years. I called the State Department before coming here and got a recorded message advising against travel to Colombia that went on and on about how dangerous it is. While it’s true that parts of Colombia are dangerous, the same could be said of the United States. I wouldn’t walk through the barrios of southern Bogotá at two in the morning, but I also wouldn’t walk through East St. Louis at two in the afternoon.
4 de Agosto: Much of the television and nearly all of the movies here are Made in America. It’s nice to know that most of the music is Latin. * We’re getting towards the end of our stay here. Soon we’ll have the sentencia signed by a judge and an official of ICBF. After that we get a Colombian passport for Miguel, a visa for him to enter the US and final clearance to leave the country.
5 de Agosto: I’m getting close to finishing War and Peace, only 200 pages to go. There’s always a strange feeling as you approach the end of a good book — a mixture of curiosity about if and how loose ends will be tied up and regret that it won’t continue. Pierre, Nikolai, Natasha and Boris seem like real people. I’d like to meet Denisov.
6 de Agosto: Went to the Quinta de Bolívar today where Simón Bolívar lived from 1820 until his death in 1830. The house itself is rather unspectacular but the gardens are lovely. * I spoke with Carlos today using my clumsy pseudo-Spanish. It turns out that he’s traveled extensively throughout Colombia, Venezuela, Brasil, Paraguay, Peru and Bolivia. His brother is a captain in the Colombian navy. I asked Carlos if he had been in Bogotá in 1948 at the time of El Bogotazo, the uprising that took place following the assassination of Jorge Eliécer Gaitán in which the city was partially destroyed. Carlos was seven at the time and remembers seeing fires in all directions. Today is the 455th anniversary of the founding of Santafé de Bogotá and the 48th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima.
7 de Agosto: The differences between prices in Bogotá and Minneapolis don’t seem to follow any pattern. In general, locally produced things are cheap and imported goods are expensive, but not always. A slice of packaged pound cake is twelve cents in the supermarket but Colombian shaving cream is two to three times as expensive as in the US; cars are expensive and gas is cheap.
8 de Agosto: Tonight’s dinner was a barbecue and party with loud music, aguardiente (a strong anise flavored liquor) and beer. When I asked one of the maids what was the reason for the festivities she looked at me like I was nuts and said that it was Sunday. We’ve been here six weeks and they haven’t had a barbecue prior to this. It was really nice to see the maids open up and have a few with us. They work insanely long hours for peanuts. Any gringo who travels to a Third World country should tip heavily.
Nagasaki Day: We signed the sentencia today. The office of Court Seventeen has stacks of papers everywhere, many of them look as if they’ve been sitting there since the Mesozoic Era. We didn’t get to see the judge who waited until literally the last minute to sign our papers but we did hear a variety of animal-like grunts emanating from his office.
10 de Agosto: We got a copy of Nate’s birth certificate and a Colombian passport for him. Getting a Colombian passport is same-day service. The American bureaucrats could learn a few things from their counterparts here. * Met a woman from New Jersey who’s down here with her two girls who were adopted in Colombia fifteen and nineteen years ago. On her first trip here she was in a taxi that hit and probably killed a man. The taxi driver was going to just drive away but she made him stop. The driver put the injured or dead man in the back seat of the car with her. She left the scene in shock. Later that day, the cabby showed up at her hotel to get the fare.
11 de Agosto: Went to the American Embassy today to get Nate’s visa. I’d thought that it would be an office building built like a fortress, instead, it’s a fortress with offices. * Finished War and Peace today.
12 de Agosto: Finally made it to the Museo Nacional. They’ve got several works by Fernando Botero and many portraits of famous dead Colombians who I can’t begin to identify. The building used to be the city prison — there are grates for guards to shoot through at the prisoners. Spent the afternoon packing; we leave tomorrow.
13 de Agosto: Up early. We were told to be at the airport at least two hours before our ten o’clock flight. The guard at the security checkpoint went through our carry-on bag in great detail while speaking in very fast Spanish. At the airport I saw a wanted poster for Pablo Escobar — one billion pesos, no questions asked. Our flight was an hour and a half late due to bad weather. Once airborne, the weather was fine. Our flight went just to the west of Baranquilla and then over Kingston, Jamaica and Camagüey, Cuba with only scattered clouds. We had expected to be picked over with a fine-toothed comb in Miami but the customs checkpoint was perfunctory. The connecting flight to Detroit was delayed due to a thunderstorm in central Florida. Got to Minneapolis a bit after eleven. Miguel was very good for ninety-nine percent of the time, mad at the end. Nate has a new home.
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