In which Vitali talks to the animals.
The road home seems a journey of a thousand conversations. Today we said our last good-byes to the agency and had our meeting with the U.S. Embassy. Unsure how to prepare for these sessions, we thought we should probably go buy something.
Kazakhstan's economy is going to collapse after Sunday.
Anyway, after scheduling one final baby-sitting with Maigul (spelling?)-- Owen's newest puppet-- we met Vitali for a last opportunity to buy camels and miniaturized yurts. Because you need those things. You just don't realize it until you see them.
For those of you who follow the WPA websites, you may have heard that the third floor of the Pamctop is the place to get souvenirs. Don't believe it. Souvenirs are had at the Tsum store. Of course, with the responsibility of nearly 7 million Kazakhs' financial futures at stake, we couldn't leave empty handed. Please allow me to recommend the Bahlsen Choco Leibniz, "More chocolate than a biscuit." They'll change your life. I guarantee it.
We also snapped the requisite photos. At left you'll see the ice skating rink in the middle of the mall. No amateurs here-- a girl of no more then 12 busily practiced her pirouettes while her mother called encouragement and guided her younger brother around the loop. If you click on the photo and enlarge it, you can just make out Vitali leaning against the wall, watching.
Still, we needed souvenirs and hadn't time to waste watching professional skating. We told Vitali what we were looking for and he took us back to the Central Museum rather than the Tsum Store. You can see the picture of it immediately below the skating rink.
Vitali's not much of a shopper and I'm guessing one can only enjoy the sights of one's city so many times in a row. That doesn't damper his enthusiasm, however. One of the things I like about Vitali's English is that he speaks every word he knows with gusto. It isn't "yes," "yeah," or "uh-huh." Vitali says "oh, YEAH!" Spoken loudly or softly, he agrees to everything we ask with an "oh, YEAH!" and the emphasis is clearly on the "YEAH!"
So, on our second trip to the museum, we wasted no time with the exhibits and instead injected our American gold directly into the marketplace. The shop owners can spot an American leaving town from a mile away. We were shown everything in the store-- twice. For those of you coming after us, sorry! We bought ALL the cool stuff.
After our haul, it was time for a bite. We asked Vitali to recommend something new and, sensing a theme in our dining proclivities, he suggested yet another pub: The Glen Pub. This was a bit of a branching out for us. This pub was Scottish rather than Irish and came complete with haggis and wait staff dressed in kilts.
I must say the food gets better and better, too. This place was swanky with stone tiles on the floors, fabric shaded lighting and menus bound in huge leather covers. We had more salads with actual lettuce (you'd be surprised at how much you can miss a leaf!) and pasta for Robin and curried chicken for Donn. Today there was NO take home. We gobbled it all down.
After lunch, we decided we had just enough time to take in Gorky Park. You can see a picture of the entrance below the museum, followed by a close-up of the horse-drawn carriage just inside and a man enjoying the grounds.
Vitali likes the park and joined us for a quick walk through the grounds. Gorky Park flows seamlessly into Aqua Park, a watersports area closed for the winter, and then into the zoo park. Vitali happily mocked Robin's photographing of every tree and small movement and snickered at my insistence on being photographed with the superhero pictures in the Aqua Park.
Weenie.
But he was a first class tour guide in the zoo. He led us on a spirited tour through birds, goats and fishes. In the aviary we found a bird that answered whistles and another that spoke Russian ("Pah-zhalusta! Pah-zhalusta!"). Vitali chatted with both.
He saved his favorite exhibit for last, though: The creepy-crawlies. The final building we toured housed lizards, snakes, bugs (yes, a giant cockroach exhibit) and bats. All of the night-dwelling creatures are housed in complete dark with minimal floor lighting.
To jump to the punchline, yes, the bat pictured at left swooped at the glass. Yes, Vitali poked me in the ribs at the opportune moment. Yes, I jumped out of my skin.
Anything to delight our hosts.
After the zoo, we had a quick trek home to drop off our loot, pay the sitter and collect Master O. From there we went to the offices of the Sisters who represent World Partners Adoption in Kazakhstan. The women there love babies and Owen vanishes everytime we walk through the door. Today was no exception. He was snatched from Robin the second we got there and not returned until right before we left for the embassy. You can see a photo at left of our little boy with Gulzhan (left) who was our main instructor. Her sister at right (and we're mortified that we didn't catch her name) speaks very little English but handles the finances and arranges the accommodations and transportation for all the visiting families.
The meeting with the Sisters was uneventful-- a final settling of payments for the apartment and final instructions for leaving the country. We were there less than 45 minutes and then joined another adopting mother for a quick walk across the street to the U.S. Embassy.
The embassy itself is totally geared for adoption. The electronic strip-search to get in may be the most difficult aspect of the visit. Afterwards, we were escorted upstairs where we waited a few minutes to be called. Once summoned, a very nice American woman asks us how everything went ("Perfectly!" She wasn't surprised. World Partners is their favorite agency.) and gave us Owen's paperwork.
The paperwork has two components-- the part for us, like Owen's passport, left; and the part for the U.S. agents. The latter comes in a double-knot secret sealed envelope that we're not to open. We'll hand it over to someone from homeland security when we set foot on U.S. soil in Detroit.
I'm not sure why there's so much secrecy around little Owen. Believe me, as soon as I heard he was a foreign alien, I tested him for all kinds of superpowers. I got diddly.
He can't even talk to birds.
