This day would be Luna’s formal adoption ceremony, so back to the civil affairs building we would go. To be followed by a trip to Jinhua, as Yiwu, Luna’s hometown, fell under its jurisdiction. There, we’d be going to the local police station for passport pictures (see policeman in above paragraph) We were waiting downstairs on John to arrive to pick us up when, suddenly, it was as if Luna finally realized that Q-Boo was alive and on the planet. They began to chase one another around a column in the hotel lobby and to laugh at one another. Rarely are you knowingly present at the beginning of a life-long relationship to watch as it unfolds.
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| It's a big world, out there. |
We arrived at the civil affairs building where, group by group, we and other adoptive parents filled out the final adoption paperwork and waited to have our official family photos taken. One of the other adoptive mothers approached me to say how relieved that they all were to see Luna so much happier that morning. In the middle of the events of the day before I had forgotten the other parents and I was impressed that, in the midst of their own chaos, Luna’s distress had made such an impression. “She’s much happier, today,” I assured her. And, she was.
Then, it was into the van and on to the police station in Jinhua for passport pictures. John kept saying that for lunch he wanted noodles, would it be okay if he found us a noodle shop to eat at? Sure. We arrived at the police station and he and Luna’s dad and Luna went into the interior of the station to get the photo. Q-Boo and I waited in the lobby.
When we were through at the police office and back in the van, a soft little voice asked me, “Is she ours, now?” Q-Boo’s little brown eyes looked up at me, “Is she ours, now?” “Yes, Q-Boo! Luna is now ours.” Ultimately, this is what the day was all about, Luna is ours.
In the meantime, our driver had pulled over and out we popped to find lunch. We followed John across the street and into a noodle shop. The term "shop" would be loosely applied, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I was busy trying to find a table and deal with the girls in an unknown environment. We relied on John to order for us and watched as he went to the back and spoke to a couple of ladies who were sitting and filling noodles with stuffing.
Our food arrived at our table, huge steaming bowls of noodles, and John turned to me, “Do you know how to tell if your bowl of noodles is really authentic? When the noodles are not the same size.” He lifted his spoon out of his soup and sure enough, the noodles were all different sizes. I think it was at this moment when I finally understood all that he had been trying to say to us. Homemade, hand cut noodles. Oh.
I looked at the front of the store and sure enough, there he was, a man making and cutting long strings of noodles. I had completely missed him in the chaos of entering the store. My eyes widened as I looked at my bowl and took a bite. They were DELICIOUS. I had no idea that noodles could taste like that, in my whole life when someone asks me about wonderful food that I’ve eaten, there are a few things I will mention and one of my sentences will always start with, “One time, in China, we had these noodles….”
Once we were back in the van and on our way back to Hangzhou, the girls went nuts. It was like all of the stress of the last twenty-four hours was over and they could finally decompress. John nicknamed them “The Yin-Yang Sisters,” concluding, “They bring balance.” Eventually, they fell asleep next to one another, in positions that mirrored the other. Yes, they may bring balance, but they also bring chaos.
We stopped at a square to see the lights and to find some dinner and then, finally, with our very tired girls, caught a taxi back to the hotel.
It was a very full day. I’d become an expert at telling Luna, “bàba láile” or “Daddy is coming.” She still preferred him and needed to know where he was at all times. We used “děng děng” or “wait a minute,” as she and Q-Boo seemed to be rushing everywhere that we went. And we saw the inside of a lot of Chinese bathrooms, I’d already figured out that this was Luna’s “I feel out of control, I’m nervous” move, but we would indulge it as much as possible.
Mainly, we got by on hand
signals, Luna was smart and very attune to what was going on around her. She
remembered everything. She was
funny-while I was changing her the day before she’d mentioned that she didn’t
want to put on two pairs of pants because it made it hard to walk, “wǒ māmā said that
she didn’t have to wear two pairs of pants.”
That night, at the square, she said that she was cold, and John laughed
and said, “You may end up in double pants, tomorrow.” Later, she asked to be carried and when John
asked why she said, “I’m cold, I only have on one pair of pants.”
John reported that by the end of the day, she’d totally stopped even referencing “my mom.” When we were back inside the taxi going home to the hotel after the long day, she asked John, “Where are we going?” He answered, “We’re going home.” “Which home?” She wanted to know. “The hotel home,” was the answer. John said that he thought that she’d begun to worry that we were going to take her back to the orphanage. No baby, it’s a done deal. You’re ours now. Ask your sister, she knows.
John reported that by the end of the day, she’d totally stopped even referencing “my mom.” When we were back inside the taxi going home to the hotel after the long day, she asked John, “Where are we going?” He answered, “We’re going home.” “Which home?” She wanted to know. “The hotel home,” was the answer. John said that he thought that she’d begun to worry that we were going to take her back to the orphanage. No baby, it’s a done deal. You’re ours now. Ask your sister, she knows.
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