On the plane, going to Moscow, I delved into the paperwork that I had received regarding Vika. It had so much information in it - I couldn't believe it. I literaly was reading my soon to be daughter's life story. I had it in my hand. She had a Grandmother who cared for her - and she loved her dearly. Vika had been terribly abused, and was such a little survivor. I felt tears well up again and again as I read the information about her. The most disturbing info was why these people didn't want her. At that time, they had gone to see her, and had taken her clothing, had their first visit, everything - then changed their mind. All I could think about was Vika. Did that hurt her? Was she too young to know the difference?
The plane ride was long. So long and tiresome. But what a thrill when we landed in Moscow. The walk down into the airport was amazing unto itself. The ceiling looked like upside down coffee cans. There were about five hundred people that were standing, waiting to go through passports. It was hushed. Kinda weird. We were packed like sardines, and it was hot and miserable. We stood there about three hours before we were ushered through one of five people who checked the passports.
We finally made it through, There to greet us was the man who was to be our translator and chauffer in Moscow. He helped us with our bags, and helped us to a car. He spoke broken english, and was so nice. Very kind and likeable. He helped us get to our hotel, which was the Marriott. We were exhausted, but excited. There were so many cars, going as fast as they liked, and we were one of them. HA! It was amazing to me that we made it there.
We got to our room FINALLY, after going through a long ordeal again with the passports, (which we would find to be the norm) and settled down for a nap - or sleep of some kind. Vinny fell asleep immediately. But sleep didn't come easily to me, as I knew the next day we would be on another plane headed to Stavropol, Russia. My thoughts were flying. I still thought of the girls, and I had their pictures clutched in my hand. I looked at their faces, and tried to breathe deep. I was there. I was THERE. The thought of it all was overwhelming, and I said a prayer of thanksgiving that we had made it there safe, and laid down and tried to get some rest. It didn't come - but I did try.
After a bit, we got up and decided to walk around a bit. Before we came to Russia, we were told not to really look like "American's" and just blend in. Well, that was almost impossible, because I had my Russion Dictionary Handbook for Dummy's with me, and another dictionary that translated. I tried very hard to use some of my new found language that I had picked up, but most of all, it was funny. The people we met were very good to us. Changing money was weird. You would go to a "window" where you couldn't see anyone, put your money in - and you could see hands changing your money into Russian currency, and handing it back out to you. What a weird ATM. Sometimes you would have to go in little buildings to do that. All in all, it was a new experience, one never to be forgotton.
Time to go back and eat. As we sat in the restaurant, we met a couple who told us a horror story about how long they had been there to adopt a baby girl they had with them, and all the money and extra time it had cost, and the red tape, and honestly it scared me to death. The man was on his way home the next day, the woman was staying with the baby she had thought she was taking home the week before, and she didn't know how long she would be there. I can't say that I wasn't frightened after that conversation. WOW. Was this too much?
With much anticipation AND trepidition, we went to our room and went to bed. Tomorrow would come soon, and we would be on our way to meet two little girls.
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