adoption..memories of becoming a mother.

  Our van was waiting for us as we concluded the formal adoption.  I was so hot..slightly dizzy as a result of the heat and humidity and well..I had just adopted a baby! I wish that I had  enjoyed the ceremony.  Chanty had been given to me  tightly wrapped in an worn  piece of fabric..not exactly a blanket. I was given the opportunity to change her she didn’t have a diaper on…slightly bemused I changed her into a little pink frilly dress and bonnet I had brought for her.   Freshly diapered and wrapped in the baby blanket I had made for she layed in my arms looking at me.  Maybe disinterested maybe curious.  I felt like I should introduce myself to her.  I stumbled on the word “mother”,  I didn’t feel like a mother.  She promptly fell asleep and slept through the entire afternoon.  After leaving gifts for the foster family and yes..the Government officials. I high tailed it to the van to wait for my sister who had to take her son to the rest room.  I got to the van where the Vietnamese driver was waiting, smoking a funny cigarette.  Smelled noxious, like nothing in my experience.  Soon the cigarette was smoked to a nub and the bathroom adventurers were ready to drive away from the little Vietnamese Provence Chanty would more then likely never see again.  Traveling by car on any road in Vietnam is an amazing experience.  I still hear the noise of the horns and see the wide aray of transportion vehicles.  Motor bikes carrying entire families along with  penned farm animals strapped to the fender. We passed a large truck with sides so high that I couldn’t see what it was carrying, but I could hear the bark and howling of dozens of dogs.  I had a feeling that they were headed the same place as the penned hog on the bike was.  In Vietnam dog is meat…to my horror.  After just a few minutes we pulled into a place to eat.  I am hesitant to call it a restaurant because that indicates some sort of  facility that definitely was not present.  Rather it was a three walled shack.  Completely open to the highway. From the van  I could see a blackened brick barbecue where slabs of meat roasted.  A large fire pit where pots were suspended by posts, and several card tables with an odd assortment of chairs and stools.  The place was hazy with smoke.  Cindy and her son Douglas jumped out of the van and I more slowly followed with the sleeping Chanty.  I was just about to step out when the driver put his hand out to stop me.  Vietnamese babies adopted by non Vietnamese women do not go into such places apparently.  I had to sit in the heat of the van and rock my baby girl.  My sister felt badly for me and offered to bring me dinner..but I was still digesting the fact that I was now a mother and did not have room for food.  Sipping on the ever present bottled water and humming lullaby's and watching  two cultures collide…my nephew Douglas and the Vietnamese diners.  I watched my sister washing him down with the ever present disinfectant as he  struggled, trying to get free.  He had exploring on his mind.   He came to the open van window and told me he intended to eat Buster Douglas… MY DOG. I forbid him,  as well as his mother, who kept asking what the Vietnamese word for chicken was.  When the Cindy and Douglas show became boring I found myself watching an older women holding a child about ten months old in her lap  She had cracked the top of a large soft boiled duck egg and was spoon feeding it to the little one.  I was enchanted  by the sight for some reason.  Soon the driver indicated it was time to get to the hotel.  Cindy dragging a barking Douglas to the van, leaving  the laughing crowd behind we drove to hotel where we apparently had reservation.  We checked in leaving our passports and visa and began the 180 step climb.  The hotel personal ran up and down the stairs with our bags and laughed at me as I stopped every twenty or so steps to catch my breath.  Finally someone offered to take Chanty…I found myself refusing the help.  Reluctant to give her to a stranger I guess.  From my previous trip to Vietnam I knew that most Provence turn off  electricity starting about one in the morning.  The theory is saving energy during sleeping hours.  No air conditioner or fan makes for very uncomfortable sleeping.  It’s a good idea to pack a flashlight for the middle of the night bathroom trips..not so that you can see your way to the bathroom, but rather so that you can shine the light and scatter the cock roaches and other non paying inhabitants.  Never Never take your shoes off in Vietnam in the middle of the nightly power outage.  Its also at this time that Chanty decided to wake up.  I had finally found a comfortable sleep position when from a far distance I heard a kitten mew.  The mewing kept on when my sister hissed at me to take care of my crying baby.  Oh yeah ,  I forgot…I’m a mother!  The  sweet mew turned into a louder mew .  I had forgotten to prepare her formula..so in the dark  I  had to carefully measure out what I needed adding bottled water shaking and mixing the  formula.  I had become acquainted enough with Chanty to know that she had trouble with the bottle, so holding her close in the humid and hot room I found myself dropping drops of formula onto her screaming lips.  She swallow each drop and another drop would follow.  I had also noticed that her tummy was distended and hard.  She had not pooped the entire day I had her.  So through the night Chanty took her bottle drop by drop while I wondered what the heck I was doing in Vietnam holding this baby  who seemingly had no idea how to take a bottle and as time wore on it became apparent that she didn’t intend to sleep.