Monday in Jinan

Nihao!  It’s morning here in Jinan. The gray is up (I forgot what the sun looks like).  This is what the view from our hotel window looks like.  

to the right....

...and to the left.

Yesterday looked exactly the same.  And the day before that, too.  The buildings disappear into the fog.  I’m not sure if it’s fog or smog really.  The city is very, very dirty.  It’s probably the dirtiest city I’ve ever been in.  I’ve seen poop on the sidewalk twice, and I’m not talking about dog poop.  The buildings practically drip with scum, and the air feels thick enough to grab.  I have sore throat, and when I blow my nose, the tissue gets black stuff on it.  When I mentioned it to our guide, Cindy Lee, she just shrugged and said, “We are used to it.”

Yesterday was a whirlwind of a day.  We had a lot to get done for Tate’s adoption.  First, it was the Registration office for us.  This is where we had to go to say, yes, we like this kid, we definitely want to keep him.   We had to take a taxi there, which, like the last experience, was heart pounding.  We nearly killed or maimed at least 50 people on the way.  A few times, Tate put his little hand over his mouth, his signature move to show he’s upset, but didn’t cry.

The registration office was a typical depressing Chinese government building.  There were very few lights turned on, no air conditioning, bars on the windows, sparsely furnished or empty rooms.  Tate had a dirty diaper when we arrived.  They directed us to the bathroom, which was an extremely unpleasant space with a urinal at one end and a squatty potty at the other.  Men kept coming in and using the urinals while we were there.  There was nowhere to change a baby.  We ended up propping him up on the sinks for it, which, of course, made him cry.  It would have made me cry too.

There was one light on in this room, directly over the clerk.  I lost my SD card for my camera this day, so I had to take pictures with mom's little camera.

His adoption, from China's standpoint, is now official.  We can't give him back.  Ha!  Like we would, anyway.  There were four other families there adopting from China.  All boys, too!  One family was from Germany, another family from Italy, one from South Carolina, and one from Miami.  The little five-year-old boy who had come to our room with the orphanage rep was there with his new family--the ones from South Carolina.

The official red hand print.

Next, we had to take another taxi (yikes!) to the Police Station to apply for Tate's passport.  This station, Cindy Lee explained, was only for passports and nothing else.  

The officials didn't like the photos we had taken yesterday and made us pay to take another photo there in the building.

Then, we learned that the photo printer had broken. We were instructed to come back at 1:00 to apply and receive the photos (it was 11:30).  Cindy Lee decided we should go to our next stop, the Notary's Office, and then come back.  We walked out and down the street to find a taxi.  The police station was in a very residential type of area, with smaller streets, so a taxi was not an easy thing to find.  Plus, every one was taking the noon break--all the taxis we saw were full.  Troops of school children passed us on their way home for lunch, all wearing their neon-yellow-green hats to identify them.  They noticed us and began smiling and waving, yelling, "Megoran!  Megoran!"  Which means, Americans!  About that time, two elderly people came up and began asking us questions in chinese about the baby mom was carrying.  We were able to get by with some hand signals and a little help from Cindy, who was busy trying to hail a cab.  They wanted to know where the father was, how old the baby was, etc, etc.  When we looked confused about their jabbered questions, they just said it louder, as if that would help!


Thirty minutes later, we finally got a taxi.  The Notary's office was another drab building.  The notary herself was very put out with us because we were late for our appointment and she had to miss lunch.  We gave her one of the gifts we brought.  

The gift thing is so strange to me.  It's required during this process.  We are told how many gifts to bring, what types of gifts to bring, and which officials to give them to.  "It's not bribery!" they tell us, "It's just the way we do things!"  Um, sure.


After the Notary, we head back to the Police Station.  The taxi driver drives as though we jumped quickly into the cab amidst gunfire and said, "Step on it!!"  Tate sat quietly in my mother's arms through it all without a peep.  He hasn't said a word yet.  Nor complained or whined.  He barely moves, actually.


At the police station, we applied for the passport. We wait.  We chat with the other four families who have been back and forth to the same places we have been at all day.  Finally, Cindy says, "We going upstairs to give Official a gift and see if they will make passport happen faster."  

It's not bribery, though. It's just the way we do things.