I couldn't help myself

Matt is going to kill me since he said not to start buying a bunch of stuff but I couldn't help it. There was a killer sale on Robeez shoes and I just had to buy some. It was a buy one get a holiday pair half off but it turns out there was a glitch in their online system and as long as you bought one pair you could get any number of the holiday pairs for half off. So I bought five pairs. Shhhh. At least I didn't buy all the same size so she'll have really cool shoes over the next two years. And they have a high resale value so I can probably sell them for the same amount I paid.

Nappy Hair

So everyone has a huge concern about how white folks' hair is different from African hair and how hard it will be on the white moms to keep their Ethiopian princess' hair in check. There are websites devoted to it and it is a hot topic on the Yahoo group. When I told my (Jamaican) friend Tamara that we were referred a girl, the first thing she said was that she'd have to show me how to do her hair. Even funnier, when I was in Ethiopia prior to receiving a referral, I mentioned to a Dutch woman that we were undecided about a boy or girl and she brought up the point that I would have to learn to do hair if we adopted a girl. Now the reason I find this so funny is that she had three Ethiopian kids and the first thing I thought when I saw them was that someone needs to teach that woman how to do hair. In fact, I came across several Norwegian and Dutch folks with girls and each had hair that any Ethiopian or African American would have been mortified over. I'm not trying to generalize but someone needs to fly to Scandinavia and teach those women how to do hair. But I digress...

For those of you who don't know, I've grown up in a very multi-ethnic environment. I was partially raised when I was young by my best friend's mom as my mom worked nights and slept during the day. She (and her mom) are black as were many of the folks I hung around with growing up. I remember I wanted to do everything my best friend did including getting braids with beads (before Bo Derek!), getting my hair hot combed (bad idea on my fine hair - the smell of burnt hair remains with me forever) and joining her dance group so I could have my own gold lame costume ala Solid Gold (also a bad idea as I hadn't quite developed much rhythm at the age of 5).

But since I've always had racially diverse friends and continue to do so to this day, I have this attitude that I have an advantage over other white moms and hair will be easy since I've been around black hair all my life. But then I think about it. And I realize I've never DONE any black hair and if someone asked me what products to use, I'd have no clue. So I realize I'm really lucky I have my friends to guide me through or people might start thinking I'm Dutch.

On Orphanages

During my three days in Addis Ababa, I spent time visiting eight or so orphanages, bringing donations, speaking with people and just generally trying to get a feel for adoptions in Ethiopia. My time was limited so by no means did I get the full range of experiences or talk with enough people but my days there were pretty full so I feel I have developed at least a bit of insight.

There are many, many orphanages in Addis that range from relatively well-funded to dirt poor. They have varying degrees of standards and sanitation. City water and sewer is available in some locations but often the water doesn't work and people have to bring in water in cans. Other places have open sewage trenches outside the gates and no running water.

Apparently many orphanages do not have a sign out front because people are known to drop kids at the front gate even though the orphanage is at capacity. And before you get all judgemental about it, you have to understand that people there are typically very, very poor. They love their children and it is only desperation, death or illness that leads them to give up their kids. I happened to witness a relinquishment at one orphanage and I can't believe how many tears were shed. The nun had dry eyes and I could tell this was a regular occurrence and that she must have had to steel her heart many years ago. Yet I could also tell she really cared and in fact took in a child who was very sick with AIDS even though it was against policy.

I also visited AHOPE, an orphanage for HIV+ kids. I came lugging a fifty pound box of donations and hoping to spend some time with the kids. Unfortunately, I showed up on a weekend when none of the management was there so I basically just dropped off the box and didn't get a chance to meet the kids. When I go next, I'll make a point to arrive during the week since I have heard it is a wonderful place.

I visited one place that had lovely murals painted on the walls of the infant rooms and seemed very cheery. I heard it was funded by the Dutch and is now run by a local Ethiopian who works with eleven or so different adoption agencies. There were scads and scads of kids running around what looked to be a five room house. Since I can't legally show pictures of the children, these are the shoes of apx. fifty kids that are inside gathered around an old TV set watching a school lesson on the VCR.


I went to another orphanage that was out in the country. It happened to be near a region that was called Clean Air (in Amharic of course). I found this quite funny since it is also the location of the public dump. Luckily the orphanage was nowhere near the dump but happened to be on large grounds with views of rolling hills. They had their own dairy that produced milk and cheese for their consumption as well as to sell.



The luckier children at the orphanages that are well funded are neat and clean with matching outfits and neatly braided or trimmed hair. The unlucky ones probably haven't had baths in days, wear a hodgepodge of dirty and ripped clothes and have crazy hair. But there is one common theme that I noticed; the children all seemed to be happy despite their circumstances and to meet a sullen or cranky kid was the strong exception. At every orphanage, I met some really, really great kids. And if it weren't for Matt keeping me in check, I probably would have signed on to adopt several more right then and there.

I'll save that for the next trip. :-)

Photos

I have some additional photos of Fiori but I cannot post on the blog as we are not legally allowed to post pictures until we have made it through court and she is officially ours. So if any friends or family would like photos, please let me know.

Stuff

Yes, I realize I've been conspicuously absent from this blog. But it was Nikko's idea and I figured I'd let her see how hard it is to write interesting copy day in and day out. But since we're mere months away from a tiny living being showing up to call me Dad, I figured it was time to chime in. So here's what I'm going to rant about: stuff.

We made our first joint trip to Babies 'r Expensive this weekend to test drive some strollers. How a product can be both so completely over-engineered and almost totally inoperable at the same time blows me away. But what really shocked me wasn't the fact that it took an advanced degree in mechanical engineering to fold a stroller, it was the sheer amount of crap that people think is necessary to raise a kid these days.

There were swings, and bouncy things, and play pens - which apparently aren't really for playing because you also are expected to buy "play centers" the kids lay on with dangling things overhead, and gigantic plastic monstrosities featuring every imaginable stimuli. There were so many colors, sounds and cartoon animals it made me feel like I was taking magic mushrooms while in the Alice in Wonderland section of Disney World. There were high chairs and short chairs you put on a table, and walkers and some contraption that looked like it belonged in a Teletubby S&M chamber.

It's no wonder this generation of kids grows up with no attention spans. We expose them to so much, so quickly, their little brains become the equivalent of a meerkat on crack.

My question is, do we really NEED all this stuff? My parents (and Nikko's parents) certainly didn't have a standard stoller and a jogging stroller and an umbrella stroller for when they travelled and had to pack light. My brother and sister didn't grow up deficient because they didn't have a 47-piece crib entertainment center complete with iPod dock and Bob the Builder figures. Does my kid need $65 Nikes that they'll grow out of in 2 weeks? Does she need a $1000 crib that she'll use for 6 months? Hell, my last bed costs less than that and I had it for 10 years.

So all I ask is this. Don't go crazy on our kid. I know it's exciting and all, but before you go run out and buy her the Fisher Price Rain Forest Jumparoo or the Starlight Papasan Cradle Swing, ask yourself if we'd do better not paying good money for a planet-killing hunk of plastic junk and instead donating $50 to her college fund.

Now if you'll excuse me, I had 84 dog toys in the living room to go pick up...