Our second day in Haiti started with both phone alarms going off at 4:00 a.m. Didn’t want to chance having one being set wrong or one running out of juice in the night.
Our driver and Beverly picked us up at 5:30 for the hour-and-a-half drive to the US Embassy in Port-au-Prince. Our appointment with USCIS was scheduled for 7:30. The game plan was to attend our Embassy appointment and interview, grab lunch and appear at Parquet (high court) in the afternoon. We knew it would be a long day, particularly for the three active little girls accompanying us, but we were ready for the challenge and excited about making some progress in the adoption process.
Our driver and Beverly picked us up at 5:30 for the hour-and-a-half drive to the US Embassy in Port-au-Prince. Our appointment with USCIS was scheduled for 7:30. The game plan was to attend our Embassy appointment and interview, grab lunch and appear at Parquet (high court) in the afternoon. We knew it would be a long day, particularly for the three active little girls accompanying us, but we were ready for the challenge and excited about making some progress in the adoption process.
We got to see a lot of Port-au-Prince as we made our way to the Embassy down roads and alleys we hadn’t previously traveled. It had rained overnight and the streets were muddy and puddled. I always notice the Haitian mamas and daddies walking their little girls to church or school—it seems no matter how dusty or muddy it is, their daughters look immaculate—from their floppy pastel hairbows to their white bobby socks! As someone who knows how hard it is to get little girls dressed up and keep them clean, I'm always amazed at how well they pull this off!
We passed the UN headquarters and some painting vendors (I REALLY want a colorful painting from Haiti for our dining room (something similar to this) and am trying to figure out where to go in PAP for the best selection). We pulled up in front of the Embassy at 7.
We (as in D and me) assumed that with our 7:30 appointment we would be in and out. We knew there’d be a lot of security (bag searches, electronics confiscations, etc..), so we decided to leave everything but our paperwork and passports in the van and told the girls to leave their backpacks (full of books, sketch pads, snacks, schoolwork, and other of carefully-thought-out activities and things to make long waits go smoothly) in the van as well. Well, you know what they say about assuming. . . this turned out to be a huge mistake!
We made our way through the various security checkpoints and arrived at the designated room right on time. The Embassy staff were stationed behind bank-teller-style windows. There were about 10-12 other people there when we walked in. We were told that if we had an appointment we were just to take a seat and wait for our name to be called. Sure enough, around 7:45, we were called to a window. We handed over our I-600 paperwork and documentation. The woman behind the glass looked it over and told us we'd be called back later for our interview. So we had a seat.
People continued to trickle in, including another couple that was called to the window a half hour or so after us and who we overheard were also filing their I-600. They sat across the room and waited for their interview. I wondered if any of the people in there were birth families there for their interviews—I tried to imagine what that experience must be like.
People continued to trickle in, including another couple that was called to the window a half hour or so after us and who we overheard were also filing their I-600. They sat across the room and waited for their interview. I wondered if any of the people in there were birth families there for their interviews—I tried to imagine what that experience must be like.
Over the next hour or so, the room filled up. All the chairs got taken and people began standing along the walls. A group of women came in and set up little DNA test stations in front of the teller windows. They put on rubber gloves and started calling people up for cheek swabs—I think mostly to confirm parent-child relationships in connection with issuing US visas. That was somewhat entertaining and educational to watch.
Based on the passports they held in their hands, it appeared most everyone in there was Haitian or Haitian-American. Our family was definitely conspicuous. I could tell the wheels in people's heads were turning as they studied us, particularly when they realized K was with us. Knowing we stood out made me even more self-conscious about maintaining a pleasant demeanor and our daughters having good behavior.
Another hour passed. The other couple had their interview and left. We continued to wait. I’d printed some extra copies of the I-600 and Beverly had a pen, so we let them take turns drawing pictures. The girls whispered that they were hungry—they hadn't eaten since dinner the night before (and their breakfast bars were in their backpacks in the van!). They were trying so hard to sit still and be quiet and use their “Queen of England” manners, but we could tell they were growing restless. The whole experience was a real exercise in self-discipline and control. I prayed they'd hang in there and encouraged them to keep up the good work.
Yet another hour passed. We continued to wait. My head was throbbing because I hadn’t had coffee. Seems my body's grown dependent on a morning jolt of caffeine. And to add to my bodily issues and further complicate the situation, Aunt Flo decided to join us. Lovely. The girls started getting a little delerious--they needed to release all that energy building up in their systems! I may have resorted to threats and bribes at this point (of my children, that is!) (and all made under my breath but with a big smile on my face). Surely we were on the home stretch of this experience!
I said a prayer and gave myself a silent pep talk. I had to be patient and persevere! I had to shift my focus from the frustration of waiting to the hope and reward of what lies ahead. Isn’t that true of every step of the adoption process? We know our sons are worth every wait, every big hurdle and every little inconvenience we encounter on this journey!
The crowd started to shrink back down so I was sure we’d be seen soon. And we sat there as another hour passed! Still waiting. . . .
By 11:30, there were only about 20 other people left in the room. I wondered if we’d been overlooked. Just then, a man walked in and made an announcement to everyone in French. And all the Embassy staff abandoned their windows. I asked Beverly what was going on. Apparently they were all required or expected or wanted to attend a luncheon with an ambassador. Many of the other people who had been waiting with us left. We and a handful of others stayed. Our girls continued to take turns drawing pictures and making up stories to go with them and accompanying me on frequent trips to the ladies’ room. I was so proud of them! I knew all the waiting and being silent and sitting still wasn’t easy on their busy little bodies!
By 11:30, there were only about 20 other people left in the room. I wondered if we’d been overlooked. Just then, a man walked in and made an announcement to everyone in French. And all the Embassy staff abandoned their windows. I asked Beverly what was going on. Apparently they were all required or expected or wanted to attend a luncheon with an ambassador. Many of the other people who had been waiting with us left. We and a handful of others stayed. Our girls continued to take turns drawing pictures and making up stories to go with them and accompanying me on frequent trips to the ladies’ room. I was so proud of them! I knew all the waiting and being silent and sitting still wasn’t easy on their busy little bodies!
Finally, at about 12:40, a man appeared at one of the windows and called our name! I could have sworn I heard angels singing the Hallelujah chorus. The officer who interviewed us was very thorough and seemed genuinely concerned with adoption ethics and USCIS’s role in investigating cases prior to visa issuance. We were advised of additional requirements and documentation that needs to be provided to obtain visas and of how to extend the deadline (set three months out) for providing such things in the likely event our court case is not wrapped up before the deadline passes (which, unfortunately, tends to be the norm).
We left the Embassy a little frazzled and totally drained, buit SO relieved to have another step of the adoption process checked off as done! As we walked out to the curb to look for our driver, I asked Beverly if we’d be grabbing lunch. No time for lunch, as it was now after 1:00 and we were supposed to be at Parquet by 2:00!!!! So off we went, racing, honking, swerving and bouncing our way across town. The girls ate their breakfast bars en route to the attorneys’ office, where we stopped only long enough for him to hop in the van.
After we dropped the attorney back at his office, we asked Beverly and our driver if they would let us take them out for something to eat. We weren’t sure whether they were taking us up on the offer or not, but a few minutes later we pulled up in front of Muncheez.
There was a big soccer match on TV and Muncheez was packed with men watching the game. We sat on the patio and the men cheered and we swatted flies and ate cheeseburgers and pizza. Beverly introduced us to Cola Couronne, a pineapple-flavored soda made in Port-au-Prince. It was so good! Apparently a few places in Florida carry it—I will be discussing this with my Publix store manager! This is something I'd love to keep stocked in our fridge!
Over dinner, Beverly told us a little bit about the boys. HM’s nickname in the village is “the Chief”. He's very smart and likes to be in charge. When it’s bedtime, he goes from room to room in his cottage making sure the other children are staying on task with their bedtime routine. He shouts “I’m the Chief of Police! Everyone get to bed!” J is referred to as “the pride of the village.” All the special mothers love to dote on him and pamper him and spoil him. We told her it was important to us to meet their mother and that they have pictures taken with her before they leave Haiti. She promised to do her best to make that happen (and she did).
After dinner, we hit the road home. They took us back to the resort because the children at the village would already be getting ready for bed. The thought of my little Chief at work brought a smile to my face. D and I were drained but the girls were ready to release all the energy they’d so wonderfully kept bottled up all day, so we let them take a dip in the pool before dinner to celebrate while we relaxed and enjoyed the sunset.
We were truly, truly impressed with how well they behaved all day. I’m pretty sure it was the longest day of their lives. We decided “Embassy Day” will be a good point of reference for any waiting-type activity they might face for the rest of their lives. Long line to ride Space Mountain? Hey, it's only a fraction of Embassy Day! Appointment at Watson Clinic? That's nothing compared to Embassy Day! Gotta go to the DMV? Don’t worry—it’ll be a breeze. Remember Embassy Day? A meeting with Financial Aid during college class registration? Go for it! It surely won’t seem as long as Embassy Day! Waiting for the adoption process to finalize so you can bring your children home? Well, think many, many Embassy Days (in addition to the real one). Adoption waiting has gotta be some of the hardest waiting there is. Of course, there will be highlights and memories and laughs along the way, but the waiting part pretty much stinks. Just know that it’ll all be worth it. So worth it! And it will.
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| Tonight's sunset! There are many things I love about Haiti. This is in the top 20. |
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