The next day ...............

9/17/07 Bureaucracy is a French word for Hell.
After a refreshing three hours of sleep I awake at 1am. Hah, this time I know where the Ambien is hiding. While I wait for it to work, I read Lian’s medical dossier sitting in the closet since the blankety-blank bathroom is artily designed with a frosted glass wall and sliding door on the bedroom side, so the light can’t be turned on at night. As I garnered from my first quick scan, there is almost no information about her palate surgery. It does say that she will take a favorite toy and go off to play with it by herself so she doesn’t have to share. Hum, sounds like she and Lela are going to be the mountain and the immovable object. Start to feel woozy at 2, hit the sack again and wake at 7am. No one else is up and we have to be out of here in an hour.
We give them both a quick bath, which Lian is a little unsure about. I don’t push washing her hair even though it smells like a pit BBQ smoker. We manage to get down to breakfast by 8:45. It is not child friendly, but we do get a high chair for Lian. I remember to bring her bib, good thing, since she turns out to be a vigorous if messy trencher woman. I shuttle back and forth to the buffet, bringing yogurt, breads, juice and fruit. The line for eggs is too long and Lela throws the first of many fits when informed she will not be getting an omelet. We go back upstairs to collect our stuff – at 8:15. Back down in the lobby, we need to cash more traveler’s checks or we won’t have enough for today’s fees. The hotel can manage $200, but the cashier has not yet arrived with fresh supplies – it is 8:30 on a Monday and they aren’t a bank. Sherry decides we will have to make do with US $ when the cashier shows up. Success, we have enough.
We get to the registrar’s office around the corner at 9, late again. There are more papers to sign, fees for the registrar and notary, questions from both about our qualifications and willingness to adopt. Lian cries when we take off her shoe to press her footprint on the paperwork, the first sound we’ve heard. The other woman from HanZhong, not the house mama, is there to receive our “donation.” We have never been introduced so I have no idea if she is part of the Caring For China or the official SWI. I do get to ask her what degree Lian’s palate is classified under the Chinese system and she says Second Degree – whish is good, meaning medium severity. But when I ask her to confirm that the marks all over her backside are Mongolian Spots, she doesn’t know, so I wonder how much real contact she has had with Lian. I remember at the very last minute to present the gifts we have hauled along, little gift bags with candies, nail polish, and body lotion. We decided to donate the children's clothing we brought to the Xi'an CWI, since we know it will get to the Caring For China volunteers, as the other families will be taking it personally.
Sherry decrees that it is now too late to go to the police station to do the passport paperwork and we will have lunch first, which means dropping us off in an area that has restaurants. We collectively mutiny and insist that we must go grocery shopping NOW. We take one of her “not to far” cross country treks to a large grocery. We insist that the bus must come and meet us at the grocery, at the front door. No more hikes. No one is impressed with the guiding or driving in Xi’an so far.
We stock up on bottled water, peanut butter, bread, jam, soda pop, juice boxes, milk boxes, apples and grapes. I head upstairs to locate diapers, and get baby lotion and bubble bath too. We check out for 284RMI, less than $40. Sherry meets us outside and summons the bus, which pulls right up. Now we only have 40 minutes for lunch – but hey, we all have peanut butter and jelly, so life is good. Lian chows down on her PB&J sandwich and doesn’t go into anaphylactic shock, so no peanut allergies, more good news.
We all assemble smartly on time – but the director, whom we have “tipped” 200 RMB apiece to grease the wheels, is late. We arrive at the police station after a half hour ride. It is relatively small and low key. We quickly have a picture taken and are on our way. Sherry announces a change of plans – we will see the terra-cotta warriors tomorrow as there is some paperwork we have to do Wednesday morning.
Back at our room, I realize that Lian should have had a nap two hours ago. Jamie and Lela go off to the pool and I put her in her crib. She starts to sniffle and reaches up to me when I hold out my arms, then she starts to wail. I cuddle her on the bed while she cries. She is grieving the loss of everything familiar and loved in her life, which is good, it means she was loved and was attached to her caregivers – and is capable of new attachment. She cries herself to sleep and naps for about 20 minutes, but resumes crying when she wakes up, sees me, and realizes it was not just a bad dream. Unlike Lela, who fought us, she allows me to hold her, another good sign. She continues to cry until Jamie and Lela come back, which shocks her out of it, especially the sight of Lela bouncing off the walls. An hour and a half in the pool with Papa has failed to burn of her excess energy or calm her nerves.
After debating a solution to dinner we order room service. Like room service everywhere it is absurdly overpriced. For about $30 US, or 5 days average salary in China, we get a panini, bowl of noodles, and some fried rice. But it is there, and we don’t have to go out or try and interpret a Chinese menu. Lian eats as much as we put in front of her – I finally cut her off on her third helping, worried she will make herself sick. She also seems to have taken much more to Jamie than me, which is fine for now, since he has more attention to give her. I’m trying to be tour guide, photographer and keep Lela from losing it. He gets some giggles out of her playing tickle me and she happily climbs in his lap. Still no talking though. We give the girls a bubble bath and I remember the stacking cups, which are a big hit. I manage to wash her hair with no fussing. A story and we are all in bed by 9:30. Good night.