Everything We Different or Rock On Otis Rachman

In which the authors finally manage to write a joint entry.

First news of the day is that Yanks have prevailed in a 20-11 game over Rays. Somehow the Sox results do not get reported to the Sox fan by the score monitor. Someone should have subscribed to the Red Sox update email list.

We meet Zoya at 10:00 AM to go to Babyhouse #3. Put on good clothes and go down to the lobby at 9:45, where we find Zoya already waiting with news that the meeting has been pushed back to noon. Zoya suggests that we walk to check out the “Ramstore” mall (PAMCTOP in Cyrillic, the Kazakh equivalent of the Mall of America, and about to be the Pampers Store for us). David changes out of suit since it’s already getting steamy. The anchor tenant of the Ramstore is an 80K sq. ft.± carbon copy of a huge store in Cozumel where we always shop, the name of which escapes us (Robert/Roberta?), a combination of K-Mart and a supermarket/liquor store. It’s surrounded by L’Occitane, Pierre Cardin, an ice skating rink, pool hall/nightclub, food court, Baskin Robbins, Lego Store, McBurger (yes, Nancy or Ms. Anonymous), etc. The whole place mysteriously reeks of tar. Browse through the Ramstore until Sagat calls to pick us up, and it’s off to hotel for David to change back into suit and head to Babyhouse #3.

On the way, Zoya confirms that we will first be shown children with “special needs,” then without. Sagat says that in the second group there is a “good boy.” We arrive at #3 and sit in a small waiting room, the principal feature of which is a large bulletin board decorated with pictures of a 70+-year-old, muscular, swami-looking dude. This, it turns out, is “Ivanov,” a gentleman with a health regimen endorsed by the First Lady. The regimen appears to principally consist of lots of ice baths. Pictures of Ivanov are interspersed with pictures of adorable orphans getting doused with water!

After a brief wait, we are escorted into the Orphanage Director’s office. Introductions all around, David hands her permission slip and Jones Day business card, Candace has, as per usual, forgotten hers (no Courtney on this trip! - too bad because it is amazing the currency business cards have outside of US). We sit down. The OD is a big, non-nonsense, fast-talking Kazakh woman. We like her instantly.

She first tells us that we will not be shown any special needs kids, because it is assumed that at our advanced ages, we would not consider them. She also tells us that there are no girls available other than one who is two years old with “wolf mouth,” which we assume to mean cleft palate. We pass.

The OD then tells us she has two boys to show us. They are brought in one at a time in the arms of caregivers. Tagat comes first. He is a year old. We have already been told that he has a problem with his arm. He’s cute, and he appears to be Kazakh. But his eyes take in nothing, and his left arm is shrouded in his sleeve and clearly half the length of his right. We ask to see Rachman.

The OD tells us Rachman is eight months old and has a “mild head pressure problem.” As best as we can ascertain, this appears to be one of those diagnoses that does not exist in the US. It seems to be something that is diagnosed when either (a) you are born at high altitude, in this case in Almaty, or (b) you were born via a long and difficult vaginal birth. Zoya says both her daughters were so-diagnosed and are fine.

Then the caregiver brings in ……. Otis!!!! (OK, Rachman, but we know he’s Otis.) He appears to be of mixed Kazakh and, probably, Russian ethnicity. He’s big. He looks at everyone in the room. He takes in everyone: “Hey, there’re people here!” He grins at each of us. He grabs Sagat’s nose (fine motor skills?!). Sagat says, “Like Mike Tyson! Like me!” (Meaning both Sagat and Rachman have Tyson-like schnozzes). The caregiver hands him to David. Another big smile; he turns and smiles at Candace, and the caregiver whisks him away for naptime. The OD tells us that he spent very little time in the maternity hospital, but rather came to the baby house as a one-month old. This is very good news – not a lot of transition in caregivers + the hospitals have many fewer resources in terms of providing attention.

The OD tells us she also has a three year old boy with “eye problems” and a boy who is microcephalic. We pass, and then she says, “Choose.” We look at each other. “Rachman,” we say. The OD then says that since Rachman was not registered with the authorities until he was three months old, he has only been registered for five months, a month less than is technically permissible for adoption. We may have to stay a week longer in Kazakhstan to formally adopt him, but the OD will try to get the requirement waived.

We agree to return tomorrow at 2:00 PM for two hours, with diapers, but no food. (Do not disrupt the routine of the orphanage!) Goodbyes all around, we exit, we kiss, Sagat and David exchange hugs and kisses, Zoya next with both of us. Sagat suggests lunch at an outdoor Russian cafe favored by students and government workers. On the way over, Sagat tells us that “Rachman” means “thank you” and derives from the Arabic; in a practice of which Sagat disapproves, many Kazakh parents (in this case, a committee of hospital workers) are using Arabic names to signal their interest in Islam.

We get to the café. David bizarrely chooses a pig-in-a-blanket and a cauliflower salad after being denied shwarma; Candace has yogurt and cucumber soup with the Russian equivalent of a samosa. Candace spots a teenage boy wearing a t-shirt with the logo, “Everything We Different.” Indeed.

(Pictures of Otis Charles Rachman Jacobson will appear tomorrow, when we are permitted to play with him.)