Buddha Baby

It's Tuesday afternoon in Guangzhou. This morning after breakfast, I waited by the phone while Connie, our guide, took our paperwork to the U.S. Embassy on our behalf to apply for Dongling's visa to come to the United States. She will remain a Chinese citizen until we finalize her adoption at home. We filled out the paperwork yesterday, very carefully. There was a little concern as I had written an extra little loop on the "R" in "Ruth", her middle name. Any correction is not allowed. Fortunately, everything went just fine. The only question that the Consulate had was weather Dongling's cleft lip and palate had been repaired, which it has not. First surgery is scheduled for Monday, March 29th, the first night of Passover. Grandpa Don will be looking down on us from heaven while we sit in her room at Fletcher Allen Hospital in Burlington, Vermont as I remember a lifetime of Passover seders with my Dad at the head of the table. How he would have loved his little Dalia dumpling/matzo ball!

Photos:
Dalia and Dina walking in the Temple
Tal, Dina and Dalia at the Temple
Close-up - this is her!

Because of her cleft lip and palate, Dalia has had to devise some methods for getting food and formula into her belly. When she takes her bottle, she puts it firmly on the side of her mouth were her teeth are. She clamps down with her teeth and uses her tongue to swish and push the nipple around and then swallow. This makes a beautiful rhythmic sound of breathing and drinking that I will miss when she moves from the bottle to only solid food. If we don't catch her cues about being thirsty, she'll tip her head way back and put her finger in her mouth. Last night, Tal and I found an amazing Vietnamese restaurant. I ordered some Pho (rice noodle soup) and put some broth on the spoon for her. I held her on my lap; she put her head way back so the soup would go down her throat and not up and back through her palate and out her nose. I poured the soup into her mouth. Sometimes she looks right into my eyes as she does this, as if to say, "Ok, Mama, throw it back. I'm ready." She loves to eat tangerines, hard-boiled eggs, red-bean cakes (sweet), rice cereal, and new discoveries -- rice noodles and toast with honey and butter. Yogurt resulted in a skin reaction, which the hotel doctor confirmed. As I watch her eat and drink, I think, there must be a reason this kid was put into foster care rather than staying in the orphanage, a reason why she was available for international adoption - she is a feisty fighter with an easy laugh. There are 50 children in her orphanage in Tian Shui, 30 of whom have a special need. She is tough and lively and smart. Connie told us yesterday that sometimes children end up staying in the "system" longer than necessary because the CCAA (China Central Adoption Authority) translates the description for a lively or active child as "naughty." If that's the case, we are fortunate that our daughter is as naughty as she is.

After dinner, we walked around the beautiful neighborhoods, small streets, little kitties sitting on top of items for sale, past upscale but small shops of clothes with Chinese brands, stopped to buy a red bean cake for a snack for Dalia, shopgirls came out to hold her and run with her, and bought a suitcase for about $10 to take home extra stuff of hers with us. Upon getting into a cab, we saw a woman begging on the street. She had a red birthmark on her face, half arms and half legs with only a few fingers and toes. She was sitting == if you can call it that -- on a makeshift skateboard, tied with a string to one of her half-arms. One of her feet was wearing a child's patent leather pointed shoe. All around her were people shopping, eating, getting their hair cut, zooming by in cabs and buses. Our cab ride back to the hotel was silent.

Yesterday morning and through lunch, we went to a Buddhist Temple, Liu Rong Si, the Six Banyan Temple, which was built 1500 years ago. The poet and calligrapher, Su Tong Po, was a frequent visitor there. The smell of incense and flowers in the warm air, along with the peaceful surroundings and ancient statues of the Buddha and of the fertility goddess, Guan Yin, were transportive. Perhaps it the was the influence of the family we met from Thailand but I felt a bit like I was at a tropical paradise instead of in the middle of one of the world's largest cities. Dalia walked up in front of the Buddhas, next to the people kneeling and praying, put her hands together and did some bows.

After the temple, Connie took us to a Chinese arts, porcelain, handcrafted items, and jade store. I had made the decision that in spite of not wanting to go shopping (i.e. for fake Louis Vuittons and other crap), I did want to buy some jade for Dalia and for me. Since I first went to and lived in Taiwan 23 years ago, I have wanted to buy a jade bracelet, a very traditional piece of jewelry worn by Chinese women. In the past, I hadn't purThese past four years, while waiting for Dalia, I have continued to dream about having a jade bracelet to show my daughter my ties to her place and my connection to and respect for the women of China. It's also traditional for some women to give their bracelets to their daughters when their daughters are 16, which I will do with my bracelet. When I picked out the one that I wanted, the women at the store placed a towel on the counter and told me to put my elbow down (for leverage). They then rubbed lotion all over my hand and wrist, took my hand, pulled the bones under my thumb and pinky as close together as possible, and forcefully pushed the bracelet onto my wrist. "Ouch!" I said. All the ladies laughed at me. "Ah, na bu suan tong." said Connie, "That was nothing [That does not count as pain]." When Connie bought her own jade bracelet, which is tight to her wrist and will never be removed, she was black and blue for days. I also bought a nice jade circle pendant for Dalia and one for myself. I do feel a link to Chinese women, and a link to my daughter. Certainly an expensive venture, but something that will only be done once. [Thank you, Tal, for understanding.]

Dalia is napping, Tal is working out. This afternoon we will go to another temple, then to dinner. Some of the other families in the hotel have not left the area. Tal took Dalia to the "Swan Room", which is a playroom filled with toys and stuffed animals sponsored by the Mattel Corp. One of the maids gave Dalia a "Going Home Barbie," a blond, hugely bosomed typical Barbie with pink slip-on heels. Yeah, right. Going Home Barbie comes with a tiny black-haired Chinese baby. Barbie has been relegated to the back of our drawer while Chinese baby dolly is on the desk. . . . Some of the Daddies were talking about how they've eaten every meal at the hotel. We wondered if dinner was included in our rate, too?! Nah, not likely. Maybe some have stopped by the liquor store next to the hotel called, "Alcohol Ocean." All of the parents are either Caucasian or one parent is Chinese. Some parents do not know where their children are from. This is disturbing. We were elated to see a baby girl with two daddies at the medical examination center. The 2 daddies got in under the deadline for gay and lesbian couples adopting.

Tomorrow we go to the consulate to take our oath. Thursday is free again, and Friday, we fly home. Your emails are so meaningful and usually bring tears and/or laughter. We are absorbing this all. We feel so fortunate, and can't believe that we have only had Dalia for a little over a week. We are getting to know her ways and she is getting to know ours.